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The Caliente sisters, ready for dominating Ciudad Enamorada
#I finally figured out tumblr picture formats#can u tell??#townie makeover#dina caliente#nina caliente#sims 4 townies#ts4 cas#sims 4#show us your sims#towniemakeover#the sims 4#simblr#sims 4 lovestruck
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what do you think the ancients looked like under their masks?
ANON THANK YOU FOR ASKING I COULD CRY TEARS OF JOY
The short answer: Human-like, but dubiously. Very colorful, ornate, and diverse. Heavy on body modification: piercings, implants, tubes of all sorts, and dramatic face/eye changes are everywhere. It's hard to describe one thing they all are, because they're each so different.
The long answer: (my ocs are here!)
Okay, so, important bare minimums: They can have pretty much any skin tone, and come in all of the patterns and markings you can think of (whether they were born with them or had them added.) The default Ancient eye is exactly like a humans, but people can and often do get changes to their pupils and sclera/eye color. They have "hair" that sort of looks like worm grass. I figure some kinda splatoon inkling type logic applies when taking into mind haircuts and buzzes and all that. They generally have elven, goat-like, or other non-human type ears. Most if not all of them have openings in their bodies for tubes a la cyberpunk, because Ancient fashion gonna Ancient fashion.
Now for the fun/personalized part. Their faces!
Ancients come in a range from the most humanoid to the least. Note that "animaloid" is an EXTREMELY nebulous term and not exclusive to the one shown in the picture. I'm not yet sure how something like this would come about. I like to think this is a result of generations upon generations of extreme genome modification, or "animaloid" Ancients are a subspecies/branch off of whatever the humanoid Ancients are, OR they're the same species, but just have an insane amount of genetic variation. This is an issue for me to figure out another time. Regardless, there is no strict line between what constitutes an animaloid and what constitutes a humanoid. Both are bipedal and have a variable amount of pectorals/arms,* with the primary differences being in the face. There are some Ancients that you can look at and immediately classify as one of the two, but most of them fall somewhere in between, like "humanoid" Ancients with exaggerated facial proportions or "animaloid" Ancients that are just close enough to human looking that it becomes difficult to put a label on it. Trying to classify individual Ancients is often a fruitless endeavor, but having the general spectrum in mind is important.
*Can have 1-2 pairs of each: note that an Ancient with one pair of arms may have 2 pairs of pectorals but an Ancient with 2 pairs of arms cannot have only 1 pectoral set. Ancients with 2 pairs of arms are rare.
As mentioned a million times prior, Ancients are super gung ho about body modification, and things we deem extreme in human society are probably only uncommon or even unremarkable in Ancient society. Obviously, not every Ancient is making themselves into the next Rolf Buchholz. Some are more conservative about changing their body, some are more extreme. But the general idea is that not having ANY sort of change made, be it as minute as an ear piercing or as dramatic as horn implants, is bizarre.
I know there's other possible takes on the Ancients that are much more separated from human aesthetics, and I love those! But I wasn't really concerned about the spec bio-y aspect this time around. I have enough alien aliens in my roster already, so my Ancients are entirely a product of me having fun without much concern for making them super believable. Hopefully they look cool enough for that to be a valid excuse.
And finally, some pictures of my Ancients, because it's hard to get the full scope without examples. Some of these are from wips I hope to post someday, so you might see them again later. Also I'm trying to format them all nice and next to each other so they don't take up so much space, but tumblr is losing its mind right now so if it doesn't format right then whoops.
#i love getting asked for my opinions its great#my art#rw#rainworld#rain world#rw ancients#rain world ancients#ancients#ask#am i going to have to oc tag these guys#oc: ela#oc: swc#oc: osj#oc: as#oc: ttc#oc: bbbp#<- holy fucking shit that is The dumbest acronym ever#oc: tsg#oc: 36attv#oc: rsbf#lorepost
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sunshine
a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(
context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...
content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot
word count: 3.9k
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.
And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.
But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.
You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?
Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?
You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.
Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.
You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.
Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?
You: Don’t make fun of me 😑
Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.
You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.
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You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.
He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.
When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.
“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”
“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”
“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”
Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.
The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.
But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.
When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.
“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.
“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”
You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.
Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.
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After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”
It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.
So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)
A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.
After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.
There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.
As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”
You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.
The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.
“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.
“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”
“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”
“Oh, you know.”
“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”
“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”
You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.
“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”
You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.
Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.
“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”
And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.
“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”
“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.
His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.
“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”
“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”
Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.
“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.
“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”
“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”
The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.
“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.
“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”
“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.
“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”
Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.
“Doin’ so good babydoll.”
“Look at you takin’ me so well.
Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.
You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.
He gripped and slapped your ass hard.
“Gotta do better than that baby.”
Smack
“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”
Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”
“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.
“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.
“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”
“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”
“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.
“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.
Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.
“Fuck daddy right there!”
“Here sweetheart? You like this?”
“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.
“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”
When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.
“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”
Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”
“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”
“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”
“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.
“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”
“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”
Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.
How were you supposed to leave after this?
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hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!
tags: @aiyaaayei
#📕 my books#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x black reader#x black fem reader#jjk men#ryomen sukuna#jjk smut#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen#had so much fun with this#need more#but it took me a solid 24 hours#off and on#😭😭
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Tumblr is pretty much my only social media at this point (and I'm really not on it very much, compared to when I was younger lol) so I am asking my one and only platform:
Would you be interested in a podcast (one episode FOR SURE bc it's going to be one of my senior projects, and then more if there is enough interest) about going back to some old high school level required reading books, and examining them through the lens of queer theory? Because I pitched the idea of examining either The Picture of Dorian Gray or Slaughterhouse-Five to my prof as my final project for this class and he seemed pretty excited about it, so I'm going to do at least one pass at this.
Right now I think the format would be kind of like the podcast "If Books Could Kill" (which is great, you should check it out if you like dunking on conservative literature and useless self-help books) where one host (me) has read the book, and is going to explain the basic plot and main themes to the other host (one of my friends probably, whoever I can talk into this), so that we can then have a conversation about how to apply the framework of queer theory to the novel
I'm pretty excited about this idea, so I figured I would at least see if it would be worth at least making the one episode available to the public to listen to, if not possibly making this a real podcast!
#podcast#books#queer theory#picture of dorian gray#oscar wilde#slaughterhouse five#kurt vonnegut#my stuff#tumblr polls
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AITA for deleting my classmate's online output in retaliation for previous grievances, & WIBTA if I kept this up?
📚🧪🗑️
(↑ so I know Tumblr didn't toss it into the void)
Take your time reading this before the poll. Trust me, everything matters.
I (16NB) am a student that migrated from the regular 10th grade sections into the top section of my school's STEM program via passing the admission test. I'm part of the very few that made it from the regular sections into such a prestigious senior high strand (which had only 3 sections and ±30 students per section), and the rest of my classmates and batchmates come from specialized programs that they were in since 7th grade. Naturally, they don't know me, and wouldn't think much of me due to my previously "mediocre" background. But really, I was only able to join the STEM strand this year because of financial difficulties during the lockdowns, so my parents could only afford to put me through the regular sections from grades 8 to 10.
Amongst my specialized program classmates was this girl, who I will call V for anonymity. V (16F) struck me as aloof and reserved at first. Our class seating arrangement dictated that I sit near the window farthest from the door, and V near the room exit, so we were 3 columns and one aisle apart, and had no one-on-one interactions so far due to this.
The entire school year in my school is split into two semesters, two quarters each semester, so four quarters. In Q1, I tried signing up for the strand-exclusive club that was practically a boost for report card grades, the STEM club, and we used printed forms. I filled in my form, and V collected the forms from everyone who signed up to give to the STEM club leader. We waited a week for confirmation of our acceptance (which was our forms being given back with a red stamp and the leader's signature) and everyone except me got them back. I asked V if she received my form. "No, you didn't give me any," she had said. I was denied another form by the leader, who accused me of lying about me having already given the form.
I didn't ask for a rivalry, but I had no choice but to be wary.
In Q2, our Earth Science professor gave us a lab activity and grouped us by random. I ended up in a group with V in it. I actively participated in the activity by helping prepare the materials and answering the guide questions on the activity sheet given by our professor, but I was stumped when it came to a question that required some research. Our professor allowed us to assign someone by group to take the activity sheet home and submit a picture instead when we ran out of time, so I went to my group's chat and asked them to wait for me as I finished the answer for that particular question. It took me an hour or so before I finally got the answer. I gave the answer to my groupmates, but V said that they had already turned it in, confirmed by my other groupmates. I asked them "Why did you hurry the submission? We had plenty of time left to refine and finalize the answers." They didn't reply, and they didn't answer me when I brought it up the next day in person. I went to my professor and explained the situation, even providing screenshots of my group messages as proof, but he didn't believe me. However, he did let me write down my answer to the question I was doing research for.
By then, I suspected V had convinced them to submit the activity sheet without me, and going back to Q1, also got rid of my membership form when she had the opportunity. I think she also might have lied to the professor that I wasn't even participating in the lab activity, and damn if he was gullible enough to fall for it.
Come Q3, this current quarter. Our professor in Literature gave us homework to be submitted in Google Drive. I did mine, converted it into the required file format, and had uploaded it to the Drive folder when I came across V's output. I figured it was time she got what was coming when she ruined my reputation to the teaching staff, so I deleted it. I secured my own folder so nobody but I can edit/delete it, just in case. The next day after that, V had nothing for submission and let's just say took some hits when the professor scolded her, and I have plans to get rid of more of her future outputs since we're relying on online tools for turning in homework.
On one hand, I feel a bit bad for doing that, and in addition I'm also scared I may be caught/traced. But on the other, I felt that it was only fair that she experienced even a fraction of humiliation that I faced during Q1 and Q2.
I dunno, Tumblr, AITA for that, and WIBTA for continuing with my plans?
What are these acronyms?
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well @voidsteeth has given me the power to ramble a bit more. PLEASE ignore the cat in that picture, for some goddamn reason it's the only way tumblr let me post this goddamn picture. it's a nice kitty, mind you
Up above, some really loose logo/main pic ideas for it! Excuse my terrible handwriting. Let me do it bullet-point format since it helps my adhd pin down stuff
So, it's gonna be a RPG. I wanna figure some fun gimmick and I surprisingly have a bunch of that well fleshed out! (Part of it revolving the elemental system, concerning Flesh/Memory/Mind/Matter/Soul). I'm not a huge fan of the repetitive encounter "smash everything in front of you" format. I'm going to be using RPG Maker MZ. My partner has a lot of experience with that, which should help a lot!
Inspired by a bit of a mix of classic JRPGs and more recent indie RPGs, specially Rpg Maker stuff. I've been raised watching my dad play the old Final Fantasy games (which I love dearly, specially IX, X and VII), but I've ended up loving the more recent indie scene myself (OFF, Oneshot, Undertale/Deltarune, Everhood)
(I'm gonna be playing more RPG Maker games to help with inspiration and knowing how much I can bend the system- Please feel free to recommend me some!)
Set in a sort of high fantasy setting, and it takes a bunch of stuff from the one I run my current DnD campaign in. I think it will feel familiar to DnD/PF players, but I'm going all in with my own worldbuilding! I wanna set myself apart from these.
I want to have a sort of in-game illustrated encyclopedia because I really dig that. I liked the way OFF used images here and there to add to the lore. I just love the idea of being able to collect pages and learn more on the way. I've sketched the ones for the elements already!
Themes will spin around friendship and human connection, eldritch horror flavoured stuff, and some temporal shenanigans too. It will also tackle on the importance of understanding the past- The story will put some focus on how people are too busy pillaging a ruined city to understand what actually destroyed it in the first place. Which, well, it's the kinda thing to have consequences.
I'm planning to work on this on my free time, and once it has a nice shape (and perhaps a playable demo), I may consider having a Kickstarter to complete it. I'm fairly confident I can handle (with enough time) most of the parts of it. I just need to get a bit familiar with pixel art (for the maps). I used to do that ages ago! I'm also familiar enough with programming and have done small web-games in the past.
The one thing I am absolutely not qualified enough for is music. I wanna try honing my skills but- Oh boy. (on that note, if you know of small musicians that are open for commissions, do let me know! Just as a very preliminary view)
also you can bet this is gonna be really LGBTQ+ themed. I wanna also take the chance to maybe sprinkle in some of my heritage's stuff, I've wanted to do that for ages!
I'm of course always open for specific questions about this. I'm really excited to work on it and help my mental health on the way. I'll do my best to share some concept art, mock ups and such as I get it more fleshed out! I have some enemies pinned down and I think people will really enjoy these designs : )
#gamethingy#long post#it's not the first time tumblr acts up about black and white doodles so i may start adding cat pictures on them
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Do the ends justify the means?: A Zero Escape analysis
I'm not here to answer a nuanced philosophical question, sorry. At least not in any way beyond "it depends on the ends, and it depends on the means". If you'd like to leave your own opinion, as of the time this post was made, I have a poll open for that. A while ago, somewhere on Tumblr, I read a post criticizing the moral framework of Virtue's Last Reward, saying that the game (and especially the formatting of the AB Game), right down to its title, says "morals are for suckers" in comparison to 999 being driven by compassion. I don't agree with this premise (and if you're OP of that post, I apologize for making an example of you), but nonetheless I wish to take a closer look at the moral framework driving all three Zero Escape games, and ask: what exactly does Zero Escape as a franchise believe about the ends and the means?
DELTA: Don't be mistaken. If we do nothing now and let time pass, an even worse future awaits. A religious fanatic will trigger a nuclear war with a terrorist attack. Eight billion... All of mankind will perish. Unfortunately, the fanatic's identity is unknown. Therefore I decided to kill six billion people.
AKANE: Why...
DELTA: By doing so, I will have a 75% chance that they are among the virus's casualties. To tell the truth, history has proven me right.
JUNPEI: So...to kill one person, you'll sacrifice six billion...?!
DELTA: It is to save two billion people.
AKANE: And that's how you used Radical-6...
DELTA: You don't believe that's the ethical choice?
AKANE: What?! Of course I don't!
JUNPEI: Is that all you think human lives are worth?! Do you feel nothing as you kill off a whole bunch of innocent people?!
I'm opening with this because Zero II, aka Delta, is the most extreme of the Zeroes in terms of how far their means go to justify their desired end. Delta's desired end, as textually expressed (or at least one of them), is to assemble a group of SHIFTers capable of creating a timeline where Radical-6 is unnecessary and the world doesn't end.
Zero is, generally, painted as this somewhat mysterious shadowy villain, an intimidating presence that looms over the game Zero runs, even as the characters figure out that someone among them must be Zero themself. At first the player's not sure why Zero set up the Game -- for entertainment? For some kind of fucked up experiment?
But with the reveal of Zero's identity also comes the reveal of Zero's motives.
I get everything now... At last, I finally understand what all of this means. I know why the Nonary Game was held today. I know why we were kidnapped and brought here. It was all for this moment. All of this was planned out to lead to this one moment. Oh my God... This is...this is insane! I...I can't believe it, but there's only one possible answer... June is--Zero is--Akane Kurashiki. She recreated the history of the future that she had a glimpse of, 9 years ago. She tried to save herself that way 9 years ago-- No! She's trying to save herself right now! That means that there's only one thing for me to do. Even if this is all some sort of insane plan... I will save her... I will save...Akane Kurashiki. I must save her, no matter what!
(minor edits made to game's script here for readability)
Nothing about Zero's motivations is ever simple, regardless of the game -- Delta is not alone with his complex motives. In 999, it's left uncertain what exactly Zero's motivations are for a while. It's only once you start to learn about the first Nonary Game and the experiments conducted there that you start to get a picture of what's really going on, and even then, it's not truly an accurate picture. You start to see the outlines of a possible revenge plot, of the men at its center, of the targets placed on the backs of Cradle Pharmaceutical's executives. But ultimately, it's not really about revenge, though that's kind of a component. It's about saving a girl trapped in a paradox. The Cradle Pharmaceutical executives could have gotten out alive -- and for that matter, the game was designed so that the door was left open. Revenge wasn't the true goal, though perhaps it was optimistic to believe in a timeline where Ace wouldn't kill the others, all things considered. Is Akane's life worth the lives of the Cradle Pharmaceutical executives? Is Akane's life worth the trauma she inflicted on the others and re-inflicted on Clover and Light? The game hardly leaves any time for an answer from anyone besides Junpei. And Junpei won't let Akane die.
We never see Akane, so we don't get too much more rumination on this. Do the ends justify the means? Someone needed to save Akane's life, and danger is required for the morphogenetic field to work. And I don't think there's anyone who would want to let 12-year-old Akane burn in the incinerator (besides the person who put her there), regardless of what she has to do in order to avoid being burned.
Virtue's Last Reward and Zero Time Dilemma both massively up the stakes from 999. What hangs in the balance isn't the fate of a single girl, but the fate of the whole world.
Virtue's Last Reward places an emphasis on predestination -- not that 999 didn't have those aspects, but that the future was much less certain in 999 in comparison. Akane is both dead and alive, but in Virtue's Last Reward, the apocalypse has already happened, and the world has already died. What matters, then, is not the timeline that we are present in, but the timelines that could be. In End or Beginning, you're left with that hope for a better timeline -- hope that the Sigma that jumped to December 2028 can create a better timeline. But in the meantime, this Sigma is stuck in this timeline, and that won't change for another forty-five years.
Would I...would we really be able to change the course of history? No...that was the wrong way to look at it. It couldn't be a question. I had to change history. We could save the world. I'm going to change history. I stared at the darkening skies above us, and steeled myself. I would succeed.
Sigma comes to the same conclusion as Junpei in 999: someone needs saving, and so the past must be changed. Becoming Zero is necessary because he already has before. "What you are, I was; what I am, you will become." Sigma is the one caught in the paradox this time, because if he runs from the fate in front of him, then there isn't even a semblance of hope that things could change.
But that's not where the game ends, thanks to natural disasters in Japan.
TENMYOUJI: But what would rewriting their history mean? The nine [bikers] who survived lived full lives. How can it be right to just erase all that? The survivors overcame their own misery and loss, and made the best they could of the hand they'd been dealt. Isn't that worth something? Isn't that the best thing that humans can aspire to? Is there really any point to a world where everything is happy? Are people who struggle for a better world just idiots? Being human is about fighting even when it seems hopeless, and finding happiness even in a world that hates it. Are you saying that's worthless?
Another Time may not have ultimately been taken into account for Zero Time Dilemma, but it is one of the few times when Zero's mindset -- and the player's mindset, due to experience with 999 and other multi-route visual novels -- is directly addressed and challenged. Life goes on in those abandoned timelines, despite it all.
Zero is always going to be dubiously moral. Putting people in a death game is never going to be something good, no matter how just a cause it is. But Another Time is one of the few times the first two games question directly whether it really is right -- whether all those cross-timeline casualties are really worth it for the ideal nice happy ending.
...of course, Zero Time Dilemma, as with the title, only adds to the moral balance.
Going back to the lines of dialogue we started with here: Akane and Junpei are a group of people who, generally, believe that the ends justify the means. Akane couldn't have been Zero in 999 without that belief, and she undoubtedly has come to fully accept it by the ending of Virtue's Last Reward:
SIGMA: Do you really think I can keep the virus from getting out?
AKANE: You have to. If you don't, billions of people will die. Only you and Phi can save them.
The AB Project, for Akane, is a necessity. She'll do whatever is necessary for a world without Radical-6.
...and this brings us back once more to Delta. How far do the ends have to go to justify the means? ZTD bends over backwards to explain how Delta can still have a somewhat sympathetic motivation by stating that he's fighting fire with fire -- asking the player if they'd rather kill six billion or eight billion people. And the answer, according to the writers, is "fuck that, we're finding a third option"...which is also what Delta wanted, in the end. Delta also gets his motivations challenged a fair bit -- not just wanting to secure his own existence in the form he is currently in, but also everything apocalypse-related.
Zero Time Dilemma never quite settles the question of whether the ends justify Delta's means of getting there. In my opinion, what you make of Carlos's final decision and resolving the ambiguity says a lot about your thoughts on how Delta's means work towards the ends he sought.
But in the end...the characters still accept Delta's premise. The characters are still working to find the person who Delta claims doomed the human race to either nukes or Radical-6 and the annihilation reactors. Zero Escape as a series has firmly lodged itself into believing the ends justify the means, even if that means it has to justify brutal deaths and an apocalypse-causing virus. That isn't to say that it's incapable of questioning the premise altogether, but Zero as a figure is one that cannot exist without the philosophy of a good outcome mattering more than any bad outcomes along the way.
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Call Me Crazy...
Rating: T
Word Count:11.8k
Warning(s): anxiety/anxious thoughts, near panic attacks, injury, but also beware the fluff for it is potent
Summary: When Y/N gets her hands on the newest Samsung phone, she thinks at most she’ll get a little clout with her friends and fewer dropped calls. A direct portal to BTS? Not so much.
Genre(s): Strangers to Friends to Lovers| Crack Treated Seriously| Fluff| Comedy| Romance| Magical Realism
Tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | poly| FM!POC!reader
Ch.3: Don’t Hold Your Breath for a Break
A/N: Hiiii, sorry I’ve been away for so long. 🥺 Life has been pretty stressful. But, I’m back now, new chapter, whoo! I have had this on my mind for a while now, and finally got the chance to incorporate it into this chapter~ I really do hope you enjoy the arrival of the next BTS member to show up, whose dynamics with Y/N are already among my favorites. Also, always feel free to chat with me about this fic if you’d like, I don’t bite and thrive on the engagement! 🤗 I wanna know if anyone wants to guess what is going on or has figured it out yet. This chapter is especially dedicated to the blog who had a super easy tutorial on how to keep your formatting from google docs to tumblr!! Saved me a lot of time. Hehe *PLEASE do not ask about the taglist in this story’s comments*
In the days that followed, Y/N completely fell down a rabbit hole. It felt prudent to look more into BTS, or more specifically, Park Jimin. From a strictly legal perspective and nothing more.
After all, she was sure his attorneys would be sending a court summons any day now just as soon as they managed to find out her identity and track her down. It was something she lived in fear of.
Binna was none-the-wiser that the reason she suddenly seemed so attentive about the band’s recent lives was because she wanted to know if they’d mentioned anything. Any clues that would tell Y/N when her days as a free person were coming to an end.
Honestly, she hadn’t found much. Nothing that would be helpful in allowing her to participate in her own legal defense. Speaking of that, could she even afford an attorney that would be able to stand up against Park Jimin’s? She was sure a global superstar would have the best in the country.
Y/N listlessly scrolled through yet more photos of Jimin—looking for hidden meanings in the recent videos the group had posted was starting to make her feel like she was overreacting at best and paranoid at worst.
There were pictures of him with a variety of hair colors and outfits, taken over time, and he was flawless in all of them. Even ones she came across where he wasn’t glammed out in full makeup made it obvious he was just one of the lucky ones, naturally born attractive.
“How many wardrobe malfunctions can one person have throughout their career?” Y/N found herself muttering, spying yet another photo where Jimin’s fancy jacket was sliding down his arm. “Is he allergic to keeping his shirt on his shoulders?”
Though, given how many fan compilations existed that compiled every single moment where Jimin’s shirt or jacket hadn’t quite managed to stay all the way on, it didn’t seem like there were many complaints. Army was swooning and swooning hard if anything.
But really, being sued within an inch of her life wasn’t even the worst part about it all. If someone saw the “notes” section of her phone, they’d have her committed first, and ask questions later. She’d have her committed, under normal circumstances.
Because what she had experienced not once, but twice? It went against everything she stood for. Logical, grounded, a firm believer in science and fact. Facts didn’t support phenomena like getting sucked through a mirror and ending up in an idol’s dance studio.
Facts didn’t support seeing the face of another idol—because she now knew the reason the man in the mirror looked vaguely familiar was because he was another BTS member, Seokjin—instead of her own reflection when she went to brush her teeth. It just…didn’t make sense.
Science couldn’t support it. It was nuts. Yet it happened to her. And that was the only reason she believed it. Too bad no one else would. Or worse, if and when Jimin announced he’d be pressing charges for assault, and she had confessed beforehand to someone…it would probably be taken as evidence the attack was premeditated.
Sure, they’d have to prove how she got in. But…but still! She couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t. Which meant her phone was her only safe secret-keeper. They were co-conspirators in it all.
Speaking of the damned cursed thing… trying to outright return it hadn’t worked, even though she had the receipt and everything! She still remembered the bizarre events that day.
Y/N was almost out of breath by the time she entered the phone store, embarrassingly worked up in front of the few strangers milling around inside. She got a few curious, side-long glances, and then they went back to perusing the inventory.
“Welcome!” Called an employee already speaking to other customers. “Someone will assist you shortly.”
Y/N gave a short, affirmative nod, trying not to come off anxious as she glanced around. Everything looked…the same as the night she had bought the phone. Shiny new models on display, the monitor above their heads playing a loop of advertisements for different Samsung products, and everything neatly put away and organized. Absently, she began to think over the store’s layout, and the fact that it could have a strong subconscious effect on the consumer. Organization of inventory could actually play a role in whether or not someone wanted to buy something.
But, putting that aside, the store didn’t look like the kind of place that would sell someone a phone that would ruin their life. Looks could be deceiving, though. Who knew what was actually afoot?
“Oh, can I help you, miss?” A middle-aged woman wearing the store’s polo top came over with a tag that said her name was Hayoung asked in an attentive tone.
Y/N was quick to nod. “I’m here to make a return, actually. I bought a phone from your store not long ago.”
“Was the item not to your liking?” Hayoung asked, guiding her over to an available station.
The university student glanced down at the phone in question, which she’d placed back in the original purchase box. “You could…say that.” She mumbled. “I’ve thought about it, and I really don’t need anything even half this fancy.” Telling the woman she thought the phone might have it in for her was out of the question. “So I’d like to exchange it for something simpler.”
Hayoung dutifully accepted the box, scanning the barcode and then lifting up the lid. Y/N had anticipated a smooth return in which she’d flash her receipt, maybe some ID, and have the exchange completed in no time. But when Hayoung’s brow furrowed, she knew she wouldn’t like whatever the saleswoman was going to say.
“Is…is something wrong?”
“Well,” she paused, “Are you sure you purchased your phone here? From this store? I know we’ve had models similar to this in stock before, but this one’s just not ringing up.”
“Really?” Y/N shook her head, rummaging around in her purse. “I don’t see how that could be. I have the receipt if that helps…”
She then proceeded to go through her small purse, searching the exact spot she knew she had folded and placed the receipt. “Um, hold on a minute please,” Hayoung waited expectantly as Y/N kept looking, growing increasingly more frustrated as she turned the contents of her purse inside out hunting for the receipt.
No, no way was she ever that careless. She had made sure she put it into her purse before leaving the apartment, and she didn’t exactly care that much in it to begin with! It was all zipped up tight, so how could it have fallen out?!
It took several more long, awkward moments of searching futilely in vein for her to realize it was true. The receipt was no where to be found. Trying to fight down the flush of defeat crossing her cheeks, Y/N cleared her throat, speaking diplomatically, “I’m sorry, I don’t seem to have my receipt on hand after all. I guess I’ll just…try to search it out and return when I do.”
“Oh, there’s no need. Our system can search for and find the purchase if you happen to have the card on hand.”
Y/N wanted to slump over in defeat, “Actually my friend bought it…”
“Oh,” Hayoung tilted her head, “Do you happen to know the account number used?”
Y/N mentally wondered if Binna was free. She shouldn’t be in class right now, right? So it would be okay to quickly give her a call and get this sorted out. She had to leave the store without this phone. That was a must!
“H-Hold on please!” It was a little embarrassing, snatching the phone she had been trying to return from its box and powering it on. In anticipation of making the return, Y/N had thought to wipe it and remove the SIM card chip, but then recalled hearing it was best to do that at the store when the transaction was complete, in case there was something forgotten on the phone that still needed to be retrieved.
Hastily scrolling down the admittedly short contacts’ list, Y/N located Binna’s number and pressed the button to dial. The phone rang three times, and she anxiously tapped her foot as she waited to see if her friend would pick up. ‘Please, Bin. Come on. Please.’
Of course, as it always was when she needed something to work out, it didn’t quite go smoothly. Binna hadn’t picked up, and she had ended up ending the call right before it switched to voice mail. Typing out a text message asking for the information she needed, Y/N had glared spitefully down at the phone.
“Do you recall the name of the clerk who sold you the phone?” Hayoung asked gently.
Y/N thought it over, the sales associate’s face floating to mind. “Yes, his name was Suk-kyu.”
“Hmm, that name doesn’t sound familiar.” Hayoung shook her head. “I’ve been employed here three years and never heard anyone go by that name,”
It was unlike her, but Y/N felt she was entitled to a bit of out of character behavior when her jaw actually dropped. “You’re kidding…”
But, Hayoung assured her, she was not. She didn’t think they had ever carried the exclusive Army Edition of the phone. She didn’t know who Suk-kyu was, and Y/N couldn’t find her receipt, the only bit of evidence that might have been able to successfully lift the burden of the phone from her person. She had left the store, apologizing for wasting the patient woman’s time, and feeling like she was at least partially going crazy.
Needless to say, Y/N had been…anxious about the phone since then. A bit scared, even. A fear she had no choice but to shoulder in silence for the time being. There wasn’t much she could do but continue searching high and low for the receipt and hope it turned up soon.
In the meantime, she didn’t let on that anything was wrong, using the phone like before, though limiting that to when it was really necessary. No more playing around with it or downloading apps. Nope, she didn’t want to risk getting too attached to the thing.
The only thing she did besides make calls was research. Things she never would have thought about looking up before. Like, unexplained phenomena with electronics, most of which led to completely wild conspiracy theories or dead ends.
Y/N had been so engrossed in breaking her brain over what to do, she jumped when the apartment door swung open, turning around on the coach to see Binna march in, a few grocery bags in her hands. Keys in her mouth, she gently kicked the door closed, humming to herself until she happened to look up and spot Y/N.
“Oh!” Binna hustled into the small kitchen to set her bags down, then her keys. “Y/N, didn’t expect to see you here right now. You’ve got class today, right?”
“It was canceled…” she sighed, sliding down the couch cushions and placing her phone on the coffee table. “The professor’s out sick with the flu.”
Binna winced in sympathy. “Yikes, poor guy…”
“Yeah,” Y/N took great care not to get sick, so she hadn’t so much as had a cold in years, but she still remembered times when she was a child in bed with chills, body aches and a fever. Once she had even had pneumonia, her mother forced to call out from work and nurse her back to health. “He just wanted us to go over the assignment we’ve been working on since the start of the semester. You know, take this as independent study time basically. But…”
“Buuut, knowing you,” Binna smiled, “You’ve already taken the initiative and gotten a head start a long time ago, so you’re ahead of everyone else.”
“Done, actually,” Y/N confirmed, not afraid to admit to her efficiency.
Her roommate made a noise of encouragement as she began to put the groceries away. It didn’t look like much. A loaf of bread, some bottles of sauce they’d been running low on, some eggs and a carton of milk.
“That’s great, since it actually kind of works out. Chin-Mae and Min Su invited me to check out this new steak house that just opened up. I heard reservations are booked out for weeks already, but thanks to Min Su’s connections, we can go this evening. What do you say?” Binna wiggled her eyebrows, trying to entice Y/N.
“Alright, I’m in,” she agreed.
“Because I’m sure they won’t mind adding just one more to our party, especially if that person is you…” Binna continued to ramble.
“Bin, did you hear me?” Y/N clucked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I said I’m in.”
Eyes round as the eggs she had put away, Binna blinked, nodded, and finally broke out into an ear to ear grin. “Oh, wow, that’s new. I m-mean not that it isn’t great you wanna join us, but…”
“What?” Y/N felt a little defensiveness creeping up on her, and she probably didn’t do the best job completely hiding it from her tone. “You made the invite, and you said Min Su and Chin-Mae would be fine with it. Did you not…really want me to come along?”
They thought she would kill the mood, the nasty little whisper entered her head unbidden. They thought she was so stuffy and boring.
“What, Y/N, no!” Binna immediately denied, “I’m really glad you can make it,” she shot over to the couch, wrapping her arms around her friend’s neck from behind as she bent over for the hug. “It’s true you normally put up a little more resistance when we ask you to come somewhere. You stay so busy, so I was a little surprised is all. But I’m glad you’re agreeing.”
Y/N’s tense shoulders relaxed, and she mentally sighed to herself, feeling silly. Of course, of course her friends wanted her there. And this was Binna, who struggled to have a bad thought about anybody. Secretly resentful definitely wasn’t her style.
But with the stress she had been under, and the dread she’d done her best not to give into, Y/N could admit her nerves had been on edge. “Yeah, sorry about that…” she laughed weakly, reaching up and patting one of the arms looped around her neck. “I don’t know where that came from, but I’m happy to eat a little steak if Min Su’s recommending it.” The man had the best luck finding good places to eat, or stores that sold exactly what you were looking for but probably overlooked.
“Good girl,” Binna uncoiled her arms and leaned back against the couch itself. “That’s the spirit. And hey, I heard from some of the girls in the campus’ BTS fan club that one of the guys on campus might be related to one of the waiters who might have catered the food on the set of a music video for Taehyung!”
She said it in a breathy squeal, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile indulgently. She was almost sure she knew which one Taehyung was, but she still wouldn’t put money on it. It might just as soon be someone else. Maybe Namjoon?
She’d gotten more familiar with their names but as most of her time perusing videos and photos had been spent investigating Jimin, she wasn’t entirely sure on the others’ faces. Well, besides Jin and J-Hope.
“Nice,” she said, letting Binna get all her gushing out as she texted Chin-Mae just to make sure it really was okay if she tagged along. Stupid to be anxious about feeling unsure if everyone really wanted her to come, but better to be safe than sorry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was impressed the minute they walked through the door. Min Su stopped trying to sneak an arm around Chin-Mae’s waist and immediately went over to talk to the maître d. The two men spoke cordially, the head waiter confirmed their reservation, and then they were led to their table with a flourish.
Binna was practically bouncing on her heels, squealing under her breath. “Can you believe this place?” she whispered excitedly, “I feel like a movie star, coming here.”
The restaurant was definitely lavish, so she understood where her friend was coming from. The tables were polished stained oak, and lit by a candle to provide ambiance, and the floors were a gorgeous brown tile that Y/N suspected to be marble.
The restaurant was done in a mixture of black, gold with high beam wood ceilings and low atmospheric lighting. They walked past a bar, long and oval, with shimmering glasses the team of bartender would pull down as they did impressive tricks to wow the gathered guests.
“It’s one of the hottest spots in Gangnam right now,” Chin-Mae commented as they sat down. The table comfortably fit the four of them, and everyone got settled as a young woman hurried over, handing them menus and introducing herself.
“This is so cool,” Binna exclaimed, still wiggling in place. She shook Y/N’s arm. She was all done up with some icy blue eye shadow that matched her aqua dress, and a more subtle plum shade of lipstick.
Her hair was secured in a complicated twist by a pin she recognized from the last time they had gone shopping together. Y/N adjusted the shawl draped over her shoulders, pulling down her own strapless dress. Binna had helped her pick accessories, which were mostly shades of amber or gold, and apply some light makeup.
Y/N chuckled, nodding as she scanned the menu, trying her best to ignore the listed prices. She had come fully prepared to pay her own way, but Min Su insisted the meal was going to be on him. It must have been nice.
The perks of being from an affluent family, she supposed. The guy was already well on his way to being a successful lawyer, following the family tradition. He had moved all the way from his hometown in China to come and work on his master’s degree at one of the top universities in Korea, just for a change of pace. “Thanks again for letting us crash your date night, guys.” Binna beamed.
“Please,” Chin-Mae scoffed lightly, not looking up from his menu. “What was I supposed to do all evening? Talk to him?”
Min Su pouted, but it didn’t diminish the fond glow in his eyes as he leaned over his boyfriend’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear that gave Chin-Mae pause.
Their friend cut a sharp look at his partner, smacking his thigh and then proceeding to ignore the man who was happily leaning into him and commenting on the menu. Yeah, nothing new there. Min Su was totally gone on Chin-Mae, as always.
There was nothing about Chin-Mae’s bluntness or dismissive attitude in public that ever put him off. If anything, the mean behavior only served to make Min Su try harder. Though, she and Binna both knew Chin-Mae wouldn’t be with someone this long if he wasn’t just as serious about them.
He was just a straight shooter, raised in a family that wasn’t completely accepting of who he was, and unfortunately awkward and out of his depth about how to handle someone as affectionate and doting as the man he happened to fall in love with.
They were well suited in that regard. Min Su was patient and persistent enough to shower Chin-Mae in all the attention he needed to overcome the lingering doubts about being worthy of such deep love and devotion.
Y/N was perfectly fine, pursuing the path she was. Career goals first, everything else second. But sometimes, watching them, a little envy did ignite.
It must have been nice to find something like that, and she was truly happy for them. It didn’t seem likely she’d have time in the near future to go out and chase it for herself, of course. And she wasn’t really worried about it.
“So, what’ll it be for you guys?” Y/N cleared her throat, interrupting the warm and cozy silence they’d all been existing in.
“Ohh, I think I’m gonna have the smoked chicken and spinach salad, and a side of the fried mushrooms,” Binna announced, tongue poking out in concentration as her finger followed where the items she wanted were on the menu.
“You’re going so easy on him.” Chin-Mae remarked. “I’m getting the iron skillet trout,” he squinted, leaning further into the menu. Min Su only smiled, plucking the reading glasses from Chin Mae’s breast pocket that he had forgotten to put on and placing them on his face for him.
The absent-minded pat he got on the hand for it made the law student’s whole face light up. “And the chicken fried steak. That okay, babe?” He might not have looked it, exactly, but Chin-Mae had a healthy appetite. And if they were coming to such an exclusive restaurant for the first time, it wasn’t surprising he wouldn’t be keen to hold back.
Min Su was nodding encouragingly before Chin-Mae had even fully gotten the question out of his mouth. “And what about you, Y/N?”
She clammed up slightly, having been looking at the menu, mentally ruling out what seemed too expensive, or wasn’t quite her taste. “Uh, the pot roast sounds like a filling entree.”
“And?” Chin-Mae prodded, interlocking his hands together and leaning on them.
“And nothing,” Y/N shook her head. “It comes with two sides, that’s more than enough.”
“Boo,” Her friend hissed dramatically. “Fine. If neither one of you is going to take advantage of this, then I guess it’s up to me.”
Their waitress returned with a tray of drinks at precisely that moment, and as she set them down in front of the correct person, everyone began telling her their orders, which she jotted down without missing a beat.
Only Min Su had actually ordered any steak, but, given the price of a 24 oz there was just no way she felt comfortable doing that to the poor guy, even if he was a good sport about it and more than capable of handling a large bill.
As they sat, sipping their champagne and waiting on the food, something Y/N had been putting off thinking about started floating through her mind. Ever since the whole Jimin fiasco, despite her deep diving and frantic searching, nothing had turned up that indicated anyone was coming after her.
But she just wasn’t willing to believe she’d gotten away that easily. She almost killed a celebrity. And, due to that, she’d really wanted to seek legal advice from Min Su, under the guise of some far-fetched hypothetical, of course. Her friends weren’t onto her, and she couldn’t give them a reason to be.
She just had to find a way to casually broach the topic…
“Oh,” Binna gasped from her side, drawing the whole table’s attention to herself. She was carefully scrolling her phone with a freshly manicured nail, scowling slightly. It was so rare that Binna displayed any actual disdain, it had Y/N a bit curious.
“What’s wrong, Bin?”
“It’s nothing,” she replied immediately, then paused. “Well it’s not nothing but, it’s just…I really wished we lived in a world that respected idols as people, you know? Some people call themselves fans and act like famous people aren’t allowed to have any boundaries.” She then went on to describe how there’d been another sasaeng incident reported on a news site she followed to keep up with celebrity gossip.
Apparently, it was a pretty serious one, and crazed ‘fans’ had attacked an actress a well-known idol was reported to be dating. Her bodyguard had fended them off, but the actress still went to the hospital with some injuries.
Y/N perked up slightly, but Min Su and Chin-Mae were thankfully too engrossed in listening to Binna rant to notice. It would be much easier to bring up her question using the information Binna had just provided them as a pretext.
It was about time she had a stroke of good luck. Stopping to think it over, Y/N cringed. Not that she wasn’t sympathetic to the poor woman who had been harmed because of someone’s delusions. But it just…presented an opportunity she had to take, and….
‘Oh, why am I trying to rationalize it to myself?! I should just ask the question before the subject changes.’
That decided, she opened her mouth and spoke, doing her best to make it seem as casual as possible. “So Min Su, you’re practically a lawyer. What kind of charges could that person face? Attacking a celebrity and inflicting bodily harm isn’t the same as harassing them for a photo.”
Y/N silently patted herself on the back, sitting from her glass with an expression carefully schooled to look only mildly interested. Inside was another matter. She was rocking back in forth, heart hammering and eyes wide, waiting for an answer with baited breath.
“Hmm, well, I’ve mostly studied corporate law.” He admitted, playing with a ring on his index finger, “But I do know that given the severity, it’s likely both the actress and the company she’s represented under will press charges. Things are also moving faster these days, prosecuting people who do things like that.”
Y/N swallowed, eyes fixated on Min Su’s thoughtful expression. “There were also witnesses, so it’s very likely to result in a conviction.” Yes, there had been a witness in her case too. Well, J-Hope had only seen her fleetingly. Maybe. Hopefully not. But if she was on any camera then…it was most definitely over for her.
“The court could go light on them if it was a first offense…they might be sentenced to a large fine and community service…” Okay, Y/N thought. It would probably drain her savings, but it was still possible to bounce back and have a future, right? She could still put it in the past and become a CEO one day, right?! “Then again, it was a premeditated attack. Jail time is also a strong possibility.”
Her heart sank back down to her feet. Jail. What successful CEO in Korea had been to jail before graduating, and for assaulting an idol no less.
‘I. Am. Done.’
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Binna giggled, “You look like you smelled a rotten egg. But I guess hearing about how far some crazy people will go is pretty disgusting, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ll have much sympathy for them, whatever happens.”
“…Yeah…” Y/N said once her words came unstuck. That was another thing. Her sweet friend was going to think she was a criminal. She had known Binna since high school, having shared a homeroom class with her. They were vague acquaintances then, friendly enough to speak from time to time but by no means close enough to hang out between classes or after school.
In fact, admittedly, Y/N used to wonder if Binna’s perky personality was just an act. It had to be, in her cynical rationalizing, because who was really that upbeat, in high school?
Later on, she would realize she was just projecting, and once she stopped doing that was when she truly came to appreciate Binna for all that she was, steadfast and supportive. Although they didn’t become close, didn’t become friends, until meeting at orientation when arriving at Korea University.
“They knew the consequences before they did it.” Chin-Mae joined in, swishing the last of his champagne around before drinking it down. “It’s stupid to think your life won’t be impacted when you run wild like that.”
Except, Y/N wanted to wail. She hadn’t known. She wasn’t a sasaeng, and she knew she had assaulted someone but at the same time she hadn’t really done anything wrong. Except maybe buy a cursed magical phone, that somehow was behind all this.
…Yeah, she’d just keep that thought to herself.
“Well,” Y/N smiled, “Thanks for giving your input.” She told Min Su, who nodded, humming with a cheerful ‘no problem’.
A cartoony chime went off, and Binna groaned as she stared down at her phone, “Nooo,” she sighed, sounding truly remorseful. “Right now?”
“What’s happening?” Chin-Mae raised a brow.
“Jimin is going live!” She whined, “And normally I’d watch but I’m having such a great time with all of you, and I don’t want to be rude…”
“It’s fine, go ahead.” Y/N said, forcing a smile. “We know how addicted to that stuff you are.” Really, she wanted the floor to swallow her into the abyss. She knew the minute she heard that sound what was going on. If her phone had been turned on, they would have heard the same noise coming from her purse too.
She had made an account on several apps BTS often broadcasted their lives to, and set an alert for just that occasion. There were a couple of false alarms she hadn’t tuned into once she saw they weren’t from the person she was basically stalking at this point. But this was it. The big moment.
He hadn’t done a solo live since the accident…but Binna said his members had mentioned that he had a small accident while practicing and was recovering well.
All of Army was behind him, sending him tons of well wishes from all over the world. It was sweet, but she wondered how fast they would turn if they knew she was behind their beloved idol’s injuries.
“Yeah, what Y/N said,” Chin-Mae rolled his eyes. “Check on your man,” he joked.
Binna giggled, flashing them a cute heart. “He’s not my man,” she replied playfully, “I’d have to get in line for that. Plus, I’m really more of an OT7, you know? It’s really hard to stick with one bias.”
Nonetheless, when she began to watch, since Y/N couldn’t exactly whip out her phone and do the same without raising suspicion, she subtly leaned closer to at least listen.
Of course, Binna was always more astute than she let on. “Oh, did you wanna see too?” She angled the screen so they could both see before Y/N even had the chance to protest.
And the live was just starting, the exact same idol she had seen what felt like a lifetime ago was sitting in a room by himself. It looked like he was on a couch, legs crossed, looking small in his soft oversized sweater and giving the camera a cute wave. “Hi, everyone,” his sweet voice said. “Thank you for waiting on me!”
Gushing comments poured in, cheering him and welcoming him back, asking him what he’d been up to, and telling him he looked good. Jimin tilted his head, a coy, secretive smile appearing on his shiny lips. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was wearing gloss or if they always looked like that.
She had been a bit too preoccupied the one and only time she had the opportunity to see them in person. He had dyed his hair a different color, though. It was now a shade of strawberry blonde that complimented his angelic features well.
“Well, I haven’t been up to much. Just resting, really.” he explained. “Even on days when I felt better and tried to join practices, the members just shooed me away.” He laughed. “Oh, but look at this!” He reached down, his head dipping out of screen for a minute, popping up seconds later holding a little pot. “Taehyung got me this ‘get well’ plant!” He showed them a cute little sapling.
Binna cooed, Y/N glancing at her then refocusing on his words. Who knew when a hidden meaning would pop up.
“I don’t know how well I’ll be able to take care of it; I’m not sure if I have a green thumb. But I’ll try my best!”
Comments came pouring in again, people saying he was going to enter his plant dad era, because collecting succulents could be addicting.
Other people gushed at the sweetness of the VMin friendship, whatever that was, and yet more people reminded Jimin that he looked really good. Yet one comment in particular seemed to catch his eye, and he squinted, seemingly intrigued.
“Hmm? You wish you were a plant so I could take care of you?” He repeated. “You don’t have to be a plant for me to want to take care of you.” The statement was very matter-of-fact, “You’re Army. I’ll always watch over Army.”
Binna sounded like she released a tiny sniffle. “Is he not just the sweetest?” She asked, nudging Y/N a bit. “Since you’re new to BTS, have you chosen a bias yet?”
Y/N wished she could tell her the real reason behind her sudden interest, but that was kind of out of the question. “No, not yet…”
“Y/N’s a BTS fan now?” Chin-Mae asked, “Since when?”
“Pretty recent.” Binna replied.
Y/N was only half listening to her friends, mostly focusing on Jimin’s chatter. Someone was still insisting they wanted to be his plant, and he looked nothing short of amused.
“Okay, if you insist. Should I start a garden then?” He asked his fans. Y/N watched, stunned, as his bright eyes narrowed into a practiced and very effective smolder. She had seen it in pictures before, but in real time it was really something else, “It’ll be full of so many pretty flowers, and you’ll all bloom just for me, right?” The heady purr of his words sent a shocked shiver right down her spine.
Binna swooned, while Y/N felt her breath hitch. ‘What… the…hell…was that?!’ A flirty throwaway line like that had never had that effect on her before.
But then, thinking back, he had flirted with her in the dance studio too. She’d just been too worried to pay attention. Clearly, the man was an old hand at the art of duality, going from wholesome to heathen in five seconds flat. That was…dangerous.
Binna seemed to already know how she felt, leaning into her with a sigh. “That, Y/N, is what happens when Jimin turns from angel to demon.” Her friend explained. “I’d say you’ll get used to it, but odds are you probably won’t.”
Jimin then went back to amicably speaking to everyone, as if he hadn’t just teased fans within an inch of their lives. The conversation moved on, and he was speaking about upcoming projects he was excited about or a funny habit that he had noticed in his band member. All normal, non-threatening stuff. Y/N was almost thinking she could relax. Almost.
“What? You want to tell me a secret?” Jimin was reading another comment. “Okay, I’m listening…”
Y/N quirked a brow at the comment. “Sometimes I dream about you.” it read.
The idol grinned, replying casually. “Sometimes I miss Army so much I end up thinking about all of you in the middle of the day.” Y/N’s blood ran cold as he looked intensely at the screen. “It’s almost like you’re there…”
That was it. The sign she was waiting for! He was talking to her.
“I…” Y/N stumbled to her feet, startling Binna. “Need the bathroom, I’ll be back.”
“Oh, okay.” Her friend said slowly, setting down her phone. “Is anything wrong? You don’t…look so good suddenly.”
‘You wouldn’t either in my shoes,’ she thought miserably. ‘Park Jimin is going to sue me within an inch of my life.’
“It’s alright,” she held a hand to her stomach, selling the illusion of sudden nausea. “Just…lady problems.” She said lamely.
Poor Binna didn’t even question it; she nodded, eyes full of sympathy. “Well text if you need anything.” She squeezed Y/N’s hand. “I’ve got a few extra tampons in my purse.” she whispered discreetly. Really, Binna was too good of a friend for her.
Y/N rounded the corner in a hurry, blindly guessing where the bathrooms might be located. She passed their waitress, rolling out a cart that she was pretty sure contained their meals. Everything looked delicious, and of course she couldn’t even enjoy the great evening Min Su had generously provided. All because she was screwed.
She hustled into a bathroom as fancy as the rest of the steak house, and so spacious there would probably be an echo. She hustled over to the sink, activating the handless system by shoving her trembling fingers under it. As she splashed her face with warm water, the dread twisting up her stomach gave way to deja vu.
‘This is just like…the event at the internship.’ The wild day that would be the beginning of the end of her life. Removing her hands from the water, she gently pressed the pad of her thumb up to her eye, tapping it a few times.
Her makeup was well done, but it still felt like she could see bags. ‘At least it can’t get worse.’ She assumed. After all, what was worse than this? The dumb phone was put away in her clutch, turned off, and back at the table.
The very least she could do was fake a smile so she didn’t ruin everyone’s meal, and enjoy what might be her last chance to experience this. They probably didn’t serve many steakhouse dinners where she was going.
That thought firmly in mind, Y/N squared her shoulders and prepared to march back out, tightly gripping her clutch at her side. Wait, her clutch?!
Binna must have handed it over to her, assuming she might need it. She had said to text if she needed anything, and Y/N couldn’t exactly do that without a phone. Well, at least it was off. Y/N wasn’t totally sure what kind of phenomenon had disrupted her life, but it all started with that phone.
No sooner had she backed away from the mirror than a wave of dizziness overtook her, sending her keeling forward. Instinctively, she clutched the sink to maintain her balance, almost screaming out when she looked up as the dizzy feeling passed.
The mirror in front of her was the same as always, a reflection of her wide, mortified eyes. But the long glossy mirror that made up the entire wall of the bathroom at the entrance of the restroom?
A reflection of another room, just like before. “No…” she whispered, not ready to admit that it was happening again. What was worse? All of it being real, or her losing her mind? “Not again…!”
She clenched her eyes shut, then attempted to get her feet moving. She would keep her head down and hurry right on past, to the exit. That was the plan at least. And she was making good progress to move without falling over in her modest heels, but the minute she actually got closer to the mirrors, a strange feeling overwhelmed her.
Almost like a compulsion to stop. Y/N felt like she was watching a scene in a movie, watching a victim wander down the hall of a haunted house, towards the homicidal attacker lying in wait.
Her feet were making her move on her own! Her fingertips reached out, and yet she had no control. She had to touch the mirror, see if that room on the other side was real. But deep down, she knew the answer before her fingers made contact.
It was a strange emotion somewhere between surprise resignation when she wobbled onto a floor that was not marble and found her eyes darting around a room that was not the steak house.
Pressing against the mirror desperately, she confirmed what a large part of her had assumed. There was no give to the mirror, apparently no way back from the time being. Was she even still in Gangnam?
Her senses were feeding her all kinds of information, and frankly, it was starting to overwhelm her. The raw scents of sweat, male musk, and ammonia could only mean one thing, and it was further proven when she peered around the blind corner of a painted brick wall, only to see two people exercising.
Well, one was doing stretches, and with the way he hopped up, he had just finished. An older man in a tank top and sweats had pads strapped to his hands, and Y/N watched closely, not even daring to breathe, as the younger man sat down and laced boxing gloves onto his taped hands.
He stood up, and who she assumed was his trainer got into a defensive stance while the younger man hopped around nimbly. Y/N watched, wide-eyed as they began to train, the guy in the black hoodie practicing blocking, jabbing and dodging.
It was clear he had put a lot of dedication into this. Y/N was never much of a sports person, but she knew the result of hard-work when she saw it. His moves were fluid, and instead of slowing down, they got quicker the more he went at it.
Somehow, it never felt like a good time to draw their attention to herself, go wobbling over in her dinner attire, and ask for directions back to the High Tower SteakHouse. She had a few other options, of course, like calling Binna. Or maybe Chin-Mae…but how did she explain it?
She had gone to the restroom for a few minutes and wound up in a completely different location without leaving the restaurant?! Then again, it meant they would really have no choice but to believe her.
It was impossible for her to have gone anywhere far when they all saw her leave for the bathroom. Maybe she could sneak out while they were distracted and then call when she was outside the gym, not standing around all conspicuous.
Y/N was weighing the merits of her plan when she heard an excited yell, whipping her head around and watching the trainer give his client a few congratulatory pats on the back, apparently satisfied with the work he’d put in for the day.
They began speaking lowly to themselves, and Y/N paled when she noticed the only door out of the room she could spot was behind them…. The corner she was standing behind seemed to be where the water fountains and locker rooms were located.
Hiding out in there was another option, but it didn’t exactly appeal when she would have to keep checking to see when the gym was empty. Right now it was just the two of them, but what if more people came in?
They’d have questions about someone being dressed like she was, right? Then again she could also be found out just staying put where she was. Ugh…it was beyond frustrating.
Her luck was completely shot, huh?
A little hope returned when the trainer waved at the young man and then began heading for the exit. She assumed they were done for the day, and the second guy would be done soon too. But not so, because then she’d actually be lucky.
As soon as his trainer had cleared the room, he gave a loud sigh, beginning to shimmy out of his hoodie. Y/N didn’t think she was close enough to make the door in the small moment he had his vision obstructed, but she was close enough to get an eyeful.
If his training earlier hadn’t tipped her off that he was dedicated, his physique would have. He was all hard lines, though the minuscule glimpse of a thin waist when his shirt rode up with his hoodie was impressive too.
She could see a full sleeve of tattoos decorating one arm, and coupled with his longish two-toned hair, a deep brown that gave way to a raging red, he was kind of…hard to look at. Distracting in a way she didn’t anticipate. She didn’t get distracted, not usually.
He, on the other hand, got straight to business. Oblivious of her presence, he walked right over to the large, hanging punching bag and began to hit it. But he wasn’t just hitting it. Again, Y/N was no boxing aficionado, but she knew he knew what he was doing.
His strikes were always controlled, his breathing never ragged the way she could guess hers would be. He pivoted on his back foot, and she knew that the small movement put more power into his strikes.
He was hitting the bag like it owed him money, grunting occasionally, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing in his t-shirt. At some point, Y/N figured he would stop. He would either head out the door, or into the locker room, and that was when she would flee.
Hopefully, wherever the cruel cosmic entity that thought her life was a joke had dumped her, it wasn’t very far from the restaurant. Then again, shouldn’t she have gotten a worried text by now?
She’d been gone for a while. Or, maybe Binna had actually come to check on her and seen that she had disappeared entirely. Y/N could imagine the freak out as Binna flailed her way back to the table and informed Min Su and Chin-Mae that somehow, someway, she’d been kidnapped.
What was her life lately, she thought miserably. With nothing to really do but scroll her phone or continue to watch the mystery man go at it, she turned to checking what news was trending for the day. Normally, she at least kept up with news involving the business world, if nothing else.
The celebrity gossip blogs she left to Binna, BTS investment notwithstanding. Stocks were up at several companies she had an interest in working at after graduation—assuming she made it with her life in chaos lately—so that was good.
A CEO had resigned from his post at a company she had almost interned at but decided not to at the last minute off a strange feeling. Some scandal involving embezzlement. So she dodged a bullet there.
And, lastly, BTS’ Jungkook had endorsed some new sports brand, and now merchandise was selling out faster than it could be restocked. The article included a picture of Jungkook, posing in shorts and a t-shirt next to a mountain of different athletic gear for various sports.
Wait. Y/N could have swallowed her tongue. Wait. That man, the man in the picture and the one boxing…were the same person?!
Feeling like she may just be sick, Y/N did a quick check, and really took in the boxer. That was undoubtedly the idol pictured in the article.
Not only was she going to jail for assaulting one BTS member (albeit on accident) a fact that she had managed to forget up until that moment, she got pulled back into the same thing that got her in trouble before, and ended up crossing paths with another one?!
Once it came out what happened between her and Park Jimin, there was no possible way people would believe she wasn’t a sasaeng. The circumstantial evidence just kept getting more and more damning.
Jungkook. Jungkook. What did she know about Jungkook? Admittedly not much, considering all her focus had really been on Jimin for obvious reasons. She knew…that Binna said he was the youngest in the boy group. He was multitalented, and here her friend swore she wasn’t exaggerating or anything.
According to her, he was like some kind of Barbie of idols, he could do it all. Those weren’t her exact words, but it was the gist. Jungkook also had a habit of being a little shy around members of the opposite sex, or so it was claimed.
Y/N personally had always thought all idols had to be manufacturing some parts of their personalities for public consumption. Who knew which parts? None of the scraps of information she had been fed told her anything about whether he was liable to press charges for stalking him or not.
Then again, he was an idol, and knowing that, Y/N had to assume he had gone out of his way to book private gym time, hence why the spacious work out room was empty save for him. Which meant him catching her was going to lead to a world of trouble.
How good were her odds if she just booked it for the exit the minute he went back to the locker room? Or if he left, she’d wait a little bit to be sure he had cleared the building, then she’d leave too. Waiting…yep…that’s all she could do. If she wasn’t in a dress, and didn’t find the idea so dirty, she would slump over on the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook caught the punching bag as it swung back from his last strike, finally feeling satisfied with his boxing for the time being. His limbs had that good burn that he liked, and his heart rate was up, despite his controlled breathing. But he wasn’t ready to leave just yet, so he decided to switch from boxing to something new. After a break.
Unlacing his boxing gloves, he found his gym bag and rummaged inside for his water bottle. Sitting down on a mat, he took a few sips, trying not to gulp it down too fast. His bottle was empty in no time, despite his attempts at moderation, and refilling before he resumed working out didn’t seem like a bad idea.
His footsteps echoing in the big empty gym was probably his imagination, but the weird sight when he rounded the corner? That he was pretty sure was real. Leaning against the wall, a woman…no, a girl, dressed up like she had somewhere important to be was nodding off. He froze, staring, all kinds of thoughts flying through his head.
Who was she? How’d she get in? When did she get in? Was she dangerous? Did he need to call for back up? Jungkook had purposely began training at this gym because it was exclusive. As his fame had grown, unfortunately he had to stop using more easy to find public gyms.
The one at HYBE was an option, but sometimes he wanted something…quieter. Trainees who came in meant well, and they tried to be respectful besides giving him friendly greetings, but they couldn’t help but gawk, and that made it awkward when he was trying to get in the zone. Here, he had thought, was perfect.
But maybe he was rushing to conclusions. He didn’t know anything about the situation besides a girl in a nice dress was falling asleep by the water fountains while standing up. Her head slumped forward, then snapped up quickly as she jolted awake, eyes wide and alert.
That was when they locked gazes, and his loose, sore muscles tensed right up. She, on the other hand, curled away like she was facing a thug in an alley. It was bemusing; yeah he’d bulked up a lot in the last several years after he got serious about training. Jungkook never considered himself all that intimidating, though.
“Are you… staff?” he asked, since it didn’t seem like she was going to speak up first. Not with the way she kept looking like the guillotine was coming down on her head any moment.
It took a reasonably long time for her to compose herself and answer, which was another pretty big tip off that something was not right. He was ready to whip out his phone and call security. Or at least he would be, if he hadn’t put it on do not disturb and left it in his bag.
“This is all a misunderstanding, really,” she warbled, her hands slapped the wall behind her like she was trying to steady herself. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to be here.”
“What?” Jungkook was definitely growing suspicious. No one who wasn’t up to something just answered like that.
“I was just going to wait until you left and I guess I started to nod off…” she ran a shaky hand through her hair, disturbing it a little. “But really, please, if you’ll pretend you never saw me, I promise, I’ll be on my way.”
He backed away quickly as she lurched forward, but before he could tell her not to do anything funny, she bowed very formally, and the idol watched, perplexed. When he didn’t respond in any way, she resumed her upright position, then tried to brush by him with her head down.
Though, when he noticed the phone clenched tight in her fist, he acted without thinking. Something his hyungs had told him to be careful of doing in the past. At least they weren’t around to scold him.
“Hey,” he seized her wrist, and she stopped in her tracks, though he wasn’t expecting her reaction at all. Her eyes took in the hand on her like she could just flay it off with the intensity of her stare alone, and then she met his eyes head-on, hers surprisingly stony. “Your phone…”
“What about it?” she tried tugging her hand away, but he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Not until he got some answers. He liked this gym. He wanted to keep using this gym, and at the thought that his privacy was being invaded yet again, and he would have to find somewhere else, yet again, he was getting a little worked up.
“That’s an Army phone, a Galaxy Z Flip 4: Army Edition.”
Her eyes widened, and then she scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess you would know. But to tell you the truth, though I can admire your band’s marketability, this phone itself has been nothing but problems. This is just the latest one. Now, please, let go.” There was some bite in her tone now, her voice surprisingly stern.
When she tugged again, he acquiesced, something she probably didn’t expect, since she stumbled before catching herself. And when she felt her cellphone tugged right out of her hand? She rounded on him, scowling. “That belongs to me.” She held her hand out, clearly expecting it back.
“Why are you here? This is a private gym, and you don’t sound like you’re staff.”
She snatched for the phone, but he held it away, using his speed to his advantage. “Are you Army?”
“What? No,” she sounded offended by the notion, which in turn offended him. Then again, a true Army wouldn’t do this to him. Wouldn’t invade his space. “And what does that matter?”
“You’re not Army but you’ve got a phone that’s a rare exclusive. Only Army would want to own something like this. And if you’d go this far, you might be a sasaeng.”
Here, she did pause in trying to retrieve her phone, a bit red in the face under her makeup. “Please, between my class schedule and internship, who would even have the time? The people who think stalking and harassing idols is worth jeopardizing their future for really need…” Surprisingly, the girl tried to jump for the phone like she wasn’t in heels, but he held it above his head, which meant it was way above hers, “…a hobby!”
“So I won’t find pictures you secretly took on this?” Jungkook squinted, not convinced.
“No!” She hissed, jumping again, “Now who’s invading whose privacy, you…you muscle-headed, bunny-eyed brute!”
He was so taken aback, he faltered, and with one last pounce, the mystery girl had snatched the phone, though not without a cost.
Before she could even yell out in triumph, her heel wobbled and her foot rolled. Jungkook watched in slow motion, wincing in automatic sympathy as she went down.
Time sped up as she cried out, on the ground and clutching her ankle in a dress too nice to be touching the bare gym floor. He stood over her, carefully watching her face at first. He could tell she was in pain, but attempting not to show the extent.
Something about that alone…took him back to his early days. A wave of nostalgia he didn’t want to feel washed over him. He would hide his exhaustion, sometimes even hide injuries sustained while on stage until the end of a performance, until he couldn’t hide it anymore, just to avoid worrying his hyungs.
And when they caught him, like they inevitably always did, he’d cry, apologize, worry they would resent him. It didn’t make sense to everyone, probably only to those who had experience firsthand with the feeling. Not wanting to let others down, wanting to live up to everyone’s expectations, struggling with the fact that they were still human.
The girl gingerly tried to shift her injured ankle, and that alone seemed to send a fresh wave of pain throbbing through it. With the way she bit her lip and clenched her eyes to stifle the cry he could just tell.
And even though Jungkook had been concerned about a million things regarding her appearance, including that she might be another delusional ‘fan’, no one could fake pain that expertly. Plus, she’d have to be some actress to make her ankle swell on command.
It was probably stupid of him to drop his guard, even for a second, but he found himself dropping to his knees, almost reaching out, and then hesitating. She stared up at him through her lashes, her own eyes as guarded as his had been, but wavering as she focused on ignoring her obvious injury. “I need…I need to call my friend.”
Making up his mind, Jungkook loosely grasped her foot by the heel, ignoring her half-hearted attempts to swat his hand away. He extended her leg, careful not to hurt her as he manipulated her foot to get a better idea of how bad it was. “You rolled it pretty hard.” He finally concluded.
“Yeah, no kidding.” Jungkook briefly met eyes with her again, but she stubbornly looked away. “I wonder how that happened.”
Guilt hit him pretty fast. Yeah. Even if he thought she was an intruder, he should have just called security and let them handle it. They were never far, and there was no way she could have stopped him. Not by physically overpowering at least.
“Hang on,” he told her, setting her foot down and getting back on his feet. “I can help.”
“That’s a nice gesture,” she ground out, failing to hide a wince, “But really, I have my phone, so I can just call my fri—” she grabbed it and opened it, only for her face to fall. “Really? Now?” He heard her grumble irritably.
Noticing his quizzical face, turned a blank screen to him. “It’s dead.” She deadpanned.
“Okay, then let me help.”
Jungkook didn’t know this stranger by any stretch of the imagination, but he had anticipated what her response would be. It probably sounded something like “no”, since she seemed disinclined to take his help.
Was she always like this, so stubborn? Was it some kind of pride thing? He had been there, too; his hyungs really had their hands full with him over the years, didn’t they?
Retrieving the first aid kit Jimin had gifted him some time back, he made a brisk return to find the girl in much the same position he had left her, staring sulkily at her injured ankle. She looked up when he approached, but didn’t say a word.
“You might have to take off your shoe.” he informed her.
He waited to get a response, the big plastic kit held by his side. Jungkook wondered if she just planned to ignore him, and if he should take her silence as consent and proceed, but that didn’t feel right. Finally, she mumbled, “…This is really happening…isn’t it?”
Nodding slowly, he popped the kit open and examined its contents, locating the roll of compression wrap. While he did that, he noticed her leaning forward, trying to unstrap her heel without moving in a way that would hurt her foot even more.
Jungkook had never worn heels, but he always thought anyone who did without falling over must have some hidden talent. Hers weren’t as tall as some, but she was still plucking at the strap with building frustration.
Guessing she wanted it over and done with just as bad as he did, the idol seized the heel of her foot again, bringing her leg out and reaching for the buckle himself.
If he expected a beaming smile and a grateful attitude, he’d be sorely mistaken. She gave him the stink eye. “I can do at least this much.”
“Maybe, but I can do it faster.” He shrugged, already loosening the heel and sliding it off while holding her foot steady. From so close, and without the shoe in the way, he could really see just how fast the ankle had discolored and swollen. Again, he wrestled with the guilt, absently reaching for the wrap. “So,” he began by holding her ankle at a ninety-degree angle, “Who are you? Because this doesn’t mean I forgot…”
“Believe me, I’m someone who doesn’t want to be here anymore than you want me to be here. I didn’t have a choice, not that you’d ever believe me…” she huffed. “But, because legal repercussions are probably unavoidable, I’ll start by being cooperative. Maybe when they review all this, that’ll work in my favor.” It sounded like she was talking to herself, not him, but then she cleared her throat and extended her hand. “My name is L/N Y/N.”
Jungkook didn’t expect such a strange introduction, and the attempt at a handshake reminded him of Namjoon-hyung. He grasped her palm very briefly, barely holding on to it long enough for their hands to go up and down, but she didn’t seem inclined to want to hold onto him either.
“Y/N…” he repeated.
“As for what I’m doing here…well, again, it’s not something any sane person would believe.” She switched her focus to watching him meticulously wrap her ankle. It was pretty careful care for someone that could have been stalking him, but he had already started, and if he was going to do it, his sense of perfectionism said he had to do it right.
“Are you…insane?”
“Excuse me?” She didn’t look very amused, but he guessed it wasn’t exactly a polite question.
“You said a sane person wouldn’t believe you…” he explained.
“I am not insane,” Y/N rubbed a hand to her forehead. “I just feel like I am lately,” she whispered. “I was dining out with some friends, in the restaurant bathroom and then…”
Jungkook waited while he secured the wrap with some bandage clips and closed his first aid kit. “And then?”
“It’s going to sound insane,” she finished matter-of-factly, “You’re going to call me a liar and accuse me of stalking you, then we’ll be right back where we started.”
Jungkook was torn between still wanting to contact security, but also experiencing some curiosity he couldn’t quite tamp down. “Do you have proof?” It didn’t sound like she did.
“Proof?” Y/N repeated, arching a brow as if he had just said something strange.
“You’re not even going to try to make me believe you?” he goaded.
“Sure, help me up and I’ll hobble right over to the mirror. You’ll see exactly how I got here and this whole think’ll be cleared up just like that.” Her tone was so sugary the sarcasm was evident.
Jungkook figured he had indulged this for this long…why not go all the way. Offering her a hand, he warned her to brace herself, and then pulled her up with ease. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She said warily, trying not to show him how much she was utilizing the wall for support.
“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, “Show me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Idols were weird. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was just the fact that they lived in a completely ‘different world’ from normal people or what, but she hadn’t expected her first extended run-in with some world-famous celebrity to go like this.
Park Jimin was one thing; he’d been concussed, so that was enough to make him loopy. She hadn’t expected anything out of his mouth to make sense. But this guy, Jean Jungkook?
Totally different. He wasn’t suffering a head injury, for one. And he had seemed angry at first, but still handled her appearance in much the same way a mean boy on the playground would in elementary school. Playing keep away with her phone, really?
He’d even treated her with decency when she tripped and sprained her ankle. God, that was yet another thing she was going to have to deal with. Sprained her ankle! Sprained! How was she supposed to get around campus quickly? It was huge. Though she supposed that wasn’t a concern at present.
The idol’s strange demand was at the forefront of her mind, seeing as he was right behind her while she hobbled slowly to the mirror, her heel in one hand and her phone in the other.
She must have looked like a suffering pigeon, doing a funny little hop. But she refused to let him touch her after she got her bearings. It was humiliating enough to have someone see her make a fool of herself and get injured to boot, idol or no idol. Well actually, his status made it even worse.
And he was watching her oh so closely as she made it to the mirror, taking a deep breath and turned around to look at him with some difficulty. “Here it is.” She said flatly. “How I got in, and how I probably would be able to get out, if life felt like cutting me a break.”
He stepped around her, staring at her incredulously like she knew he would. She would look at herself that way in his position. Jungkook pressed against the mirror with the flat of his hand, one good time, as if to confirm it was solid. “You used the mirror? What, like magic? Like a drama?”
“You’re the one who said you wanted proof; I never said it would satisfy you.” she retorted. “I barely understand it myself, but what I’m saying is the only truth I have to cling to.” Her chin dipped, “No matter how implausible it is…”
She knew she would get the same result he had when she pushed on the mirror, but as if to confirm her fate was truly sealed, Y/N tried anyway. When her hand went right through, the cool glass giving way to cool nothingness, she yelled, pitching forward.
Jungkook made a noise, something startled, and she glanced at him to confirm he was seeing what was happening. His bulging eyes made it evident that he was. Yes! Y/N jerked her arm away too fast, and in doing so almost fell back on her ass, if not for the lightning reflexes of the idol who moved to extend an arm around her waist.
Y/N got her bearings, smoothed a hand over her shirt and her racing heart, and tried to hold back her tears. He could see. He could really see. The weeks of going crazy in silence, holding it all in, and someone else…could see.
“Your arm went through the glass,” he breathed.
“More than my arm’s gone through.” Y/N spoke with more confidence, now that there was no way he could deny it. “That’s…how I got here.”
The idol once again moved forward, pressing both hands against the mirror. Nothing. “How?” He wondered.
“I don’t know.” Y/N replied, “It’s been happening since…since I got this phone. So that’s my only theory, that the events are connected.” She held up the dead device and wiggled it around. “Not that that’s a story anyone would believe if I got caught breaking and entering.”
The idol appeared to be thinking, worrying his lip piercing with his tongue, “Unless they saw it.”
Y/N squared her shoulders, eyeing him up and down. He fidgeted, looking small somehow, despite being fairly tall with a healthy amount of muscle. From close up it was even easier to see than watching him from behind the wall.
“It might come as a surprise for you to know, not everyone would be as cavalier as you about all this. In fact, I’d go as far as saying your reaction was a bit…strange. Has anyone told you that you’re odd?”
‘Nice going, Y/N.’ She thought bitterly, ‘That was over the top blunt. You’re not trying to make an enemy out of the very first person to be witnessing the crazy with you.’
Luckily, the idol didn’t look overly offended. Jungkook pursed his lips, big eyes sheepish as he rubbed his head. “Uh-huh, my hyung.” he said thoughtfully.
“Well…” Y/N gestured vaguely. “Now that you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you know about as much as I do. Would it be too much trouble to ask if I could…go?” Pointing a thumb toward the mirror like she was about to miss her cab would seem dumb if he didn’t know.
“Oh, right,” Jungkook’s tapped the mirror again. “You’re going back to where you came from.”
“Ideally,” Y/N frowned, “I’ve been gone a long time. There’s no way my friends aren’t concerned about that. And when they can’t find me who knows what they’ll think.”
Somewhat afraid the give they had both witnessed was a one-off, Y/N pressed her hand to the mirror once again, happy when it rippled and went right through. It might have been too late to salvage the evening with her friends, but at least she could salvage her reputation.
#call me crazy#ot7xreader#btsxreader#jungkook x reader#jiminxreader#taehyungxreader#yoongixreader#jin x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader
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Happy 2 Years, To Be Alone 🎉🎉
Thanks to the lovely Flor @raincoffeeandfandoms and her decision to include my OC Celia Farraday in her OC asks that she has been sending out, I realized that I posted the first chapter of To Be Alone two years ago today.
This story was my first endeavor into the world of fic writing for Peaky Blinders, and it was the first story I’d written in a few years. On top of that, it was the first time I’d ever posted a piece of my writing on Tumblr — I remember being so nervous about getting it right but at the same time so very excited to be writing again. My goodness what a journey I’ve been on since I posted that first chapter.
I’d like to quickly shoutout some of the people who have been supporting me since the beginning, because if it weren’t for you showing interest in my story, I’d probably not still be posting on here. @mootiemoose (you were my first follower after I posted my story, the first username I added to a taglist and the first person to comment on it — I’ll remember that forever), @theshelbyclan (you were the first big Peaky blog to share my story — thanks for giving me the recognition) and @look-at-the-soul (you were the first mutual that I really talked to and built a friendship with) — I know there were others who have been along for the ride with me from early on and this post would get super long if I listed everyone…my heart goes out to ALL OF YOU. Thank you for joining me in this fic writing journey!!
So I figured I’d do something special for Celia on the 2nd anniversary of her story beginning … after so much scrolling on Pinterest and many different Google searches, I think I’ve finally found a faceclaim for her ………..
Everyone, meet Celia Rose Farraday!!!!
This is Rose Williams as Charlotte Heywood from the series Sandition. The time periods aren’t the same, but I felt that she could mesh well into canon. — the only thing I believe may be different is that Celia has hazel eyes.
The second I saw a picture of her smiling, I just knew that she had to be Celia’s faceclaim — her smile instantly made me feel happy and that’s exactly what Celia did while I was writing her story, and as I’ve gone back and re-read her story.
I hope you’ll also find that she fits the part!!
I’ve also been in the process of giving the story a facelift and fixing minor things that I’ve been able to find. I’m only on Chapter 7 with that because I’ve actually started reading the story (because I haven’t read it since I posted it on here). So if you see some formatting changes, this is why!
One last time, thank you for joining me on this journey!! 💕
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Good Cop, Bad Cop
This is actually going to be 4 parts! Also, Tumblr was being really weird when I copied and pasted this. So, I'm really sorry if the formatting looks a little off, I tried to redo it like four times!
TW: Bondage, False Imprisonment, some of these falls under the sexual assault bracket, crying, depression, bratty behavior, Cash being a shit head, and not communicating
Part 3 of @karatekels request
Chapter 3: Bad Cop
You wake up to the sound of waves crashing on the shore and the faint smell of vanilla. You let out a groan, your head is pounding, and your body aches, but you force yourself to open your eyes. You find that the smell is coming from the candle burning on the nightstand, the candle is placed next to a fresh glass of water, some Tylenol, and a fresh plate of Mrs. Ewing’s chocolate chip cookies. You can’t help the way you roll your eyes; Cash knew vanilla was your favorite scent and that you adore his mom’s cookies, he really was laying it on thick considering he just abducted you in broad daylight. Your head is still pounding, so you begrudgingly reach for the painkillers on the nightstand, only to find out your left wrist is cuffed to the headboard.
“You little shit head” you hissed before bringing yourself to a sitting position and reaching for them with your free hand. Cash had very clearly planned this all out and you hate yourself for going against your gut instinct. You should’ve just stayed in bed though something tells you Cash would’ve just crawled through your window, he used to do it all the time when you were kids. You even stupidly left it unlocked for him, of course that was when you used to trust him. You let out a frustrated sigh as you pop the pills into your mouth before chugging the glass of water. After you set the glass down you finally let your eyes trail around the room trying to figure out where you are.
You glace out the window and notice it’s bright outside, probably early morning, you can tell by the sounds of the waves you’re right on the edge of the coast. If it really was early morning, you had to have been out at least fifteen hours; you’re thankful your mom isn’t here to diagnose you right now. Although you’re well aware it’s a symptom of depression, you start to think maybe therapy might be beneficial for you now. All you can see outside is a bit of grass and the ocean, you realize you’re on the Wings Neck peninsula which probably means you’re in the lighthouse property. You scoff, if he didn’t have you shackled to the damn bed right now, you’d find this all incredibly romantic. You were obsessed with lighthouses growing up, you read To the Lighthouse and The Lighthouse Stevensons religiously and you had every lighthouse picture book imaginable. Your childhood bedroom was still covered in nautical décor to this day.
You finally pull your eyes from the window, letting your eyes take in the rest of the room. It’s rather spacious with a large dresser, a TV, and a blue armchair in one of the corners. On top of the armchair, you spot a duffle bag presumably filled with all the missing clothes from your suitcase, you can’t help but wonder how long Cash has been planning this out. You decide to grab a cookie from the plate not really caring how long they’d been sitting there, you were at least sure Cash wouldn’t try to poison you. Although you were sure he’d never try to kidnap you less than a day ago. You take a small bite of the cookie, it’s delicious as usual, then you make a move to stand and stretch as best as you could being anchored to the bed.
“Oh, thank God, you’ve been out for hours I was getting worried” Cash croons from behind you, you jump slightly in surprise before turning your head to give him the nastiest glare you could muster. Cash let’s out a frustrated sigh as he walks further into the room carrying a breakfast tray in his hands. You don’t say a word as you plop back onto the bed maintaining your glare as you watch him set the tray on your lap. Cash gives you a sheepish sort of smile before climbing into bed and taking a seat unnecessarily close to you. You’d been so focused on his face you hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt, a pair of checkered pajama pants loosely hung around his waist. You blush furiously and try to lean away from him, but Cash wraps his arm around your waist firmly and places an almost tender kiss on your shoulder.
“Is your stomach still bothering you Butterfly? I’ve got some Pepto chewable tablets if you need some” he murmured huskily, letting the fingers on his free hand draw circles on your exposed stomach. You shake your head vigorously trying to ignore the fact you were very much getting aroused right now. You do your best not to let your eyes roam over his very sculpted chest.
“Well, why aren’t you eating, you love cinnamon rolls and bacon. I got them at Yellow Deli just for you.” He whispered letting his head settle on your shoulder as he stared at you with puppy dog eyes. You scowl back at him.
“Get off me Cashton” you sneered; Cash narrows his eyes at you but makes no attempt to move off of you. You only ever used his real name when you were mad at him.
“That’s not very nice, Butterfly, I went through all this trouble. The least you could do is let me hold you” he said teasingly, resuming the circles he was drawing on your stomach.
“Cinnamon rolls and bacon aren’t enough to make me forget you kidnapped me yesterday. Now get off.” you said through gritted teeth. Cash lets out another frustrated sigh.
“Don’t be so dramatic, all I did was put you in the car like I did before. Your mom knew I was taking you on a trip” he shrugged seemingly unbothered. You scowl at him again in disbelief.
“It doesn’t matter if you told my mom. I’m an adult and have free will, I didn’t want to get in the car, you forced me to, then you cuffed me to a fucking bed. That is the literal definition of kidnapping, and you hurt me to do it” you whimpered feeling hot tears pour from your eyes. Cash shushed you reaching up to gingerly wipe the tears streaming down your face and tightens the grip on your waist when he feels you attempt to pull away from him again.
“I am really sorry about the compliance pressure point Y/N; I don’t like hurting you. I just wanted you to come with me. The cuff was just a precaution in case you woke up and tried to run away in the dark without knowing where you were. I’ve pulled too many bodies out of Lake Erie, Butterfly. I couldn’t stand it if I found you in the bay” Cash said in a soothing tone, his explanation seems logical enough, but you’re not dumb enough to believe it. You still aren’t sure what he’s hoping will come from this; if he wanted a quick hookup, he had his choice of women. You had liked to think he saw you as more than that but everything about the timing of this suggests otherwise. Twelve years ago, you would’ve done anything to be with him, to have him touching you like this, to have him hold you like this. Now it made you feel like you were his last choice that if any of his other relationships worked out, he’d never even consider you. He had so many chances to choose you before, but he never did. You talked on the phone everyday your first semester at NYU then after Christmas they dwindled until the stopped all together. He just stopped answering your calls, stopped coming home for the holidays, stopped wishing you a happy birthday. He disappeared and now he seemed to want to act like it never happened.
“Bullshit, I’m not hungry so you can leave me alone now.” You spat, moving to push the tray on to the floor, hoping he might get caught with an absurdly expensive cleaning fee at the end of his stay. Cash let go of your waist and quickly gripped the tray before you could send it toppling to the ground. He gave you a menacing glare, you glared back at him, daring him to do something about it.
“Fine, I’m going to put this in fridge in case you change your mind. Then I’m going to take a shower and maybe go for a walk around the bay. You’ll get that cuff off whenever you decide to stop acting like a brat and start acting like the good girl, I know you can be” he said tauntingly, you scoffed rolling your eyes. Cash stood up from the bed holding the tray lazily in one arm and leered down at you for a moment. You gave him another look of disbelief.
“What is wrong with you, I thought cops had to have good communication skills. If you had just said the word “Lighthouse” I would’ve gotten in the car you idiot. Don’t you think this is a little excessive. Now take the cuff off or I’ll tell your mom.” you said through gritted teeth as you glared up at him. Cash rolled his eyes at you as he proceeded to head towards the door.
“You can tell her that if you want, she already knows I’m into bondage. You sure you don’t want this cinnamon roll, Butterfly. It might be a while before you can eat again. I think I need an extra-long shower this morning and I’m afraid it’s entirely your fault” he said teasingly, you feel your face flush again as you stare at him with your mouth agape.
“Bondage is supposed to be consensual, and I don’t consent” you snapped, as you tried to yank your hand out of the cuff. Cash let out a mock disgruntled sigh as he stood in the doorway staring at you with amusement in his eyes and smirk tugging on his lips. It was probably a good thing he was over there; you were contemplating gouging his pretty little eyes out right now.
“So still a no on the cinnamon roll, got it. See you in about an hour give or take.” Cash said in the same teasing tone, he threw you one last smirk as he exited the bedroom. You let out a loud growl still desperately trying to free your wrist.
“CASHTON MICHEAL EWING, YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!” you bellowed, all you hear is him whistling as he makes it further down the hallway.
-----
You spend about two hours ranting bitterly to yourself as you watched a showing of When Harry Met Sally. You remembered going to see a reshowing of it in theaters on Valentine’s Day with Cash when you were both sixteen. You never saw it all the way through because Cash disappeared ten minutes into the movie, when you finally decided to look for him you found him making out with Cindy Ryan in the lobby. You doubted he even remembered doing that to you, he didn’t even notice you run out of the theater in tears and he didn’t he didn’t show up at your window until way after the movie ended.
Cash finally strides back into the room and gives you a dazzling smile as he comes to sit next to you on the bed. You can’t help the way you glare at him with this bitter memory still fresh in your mind. He only ever brought up the good memories you shared and up until fifteen hours ago you never felt like bringing them up.
“Hey Butterfly” he said with an amused glint in his icy eyes, you just stare back at him blankly before turning your focus back to the TV. Cash let out an exaggerated sigh as he laid his head in your lap, gazing up at you. You glance down at him for a moment before turning your attention back to the TV. Having him look at you like that still had butterflies stirring in your stomach, and you couldn’t help but hate him for it now.
“Aw, are you giving me the silent treatment now, sweetheart?” he asked in a teasing tone, you roll your eyes to yourself silently keeping your eyes glued to the screen. Cash let out another exaggerated sigh, you feel him run a teasing finger over your arm. You know he’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, he used to do it all the time when you were kids, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. You weren’t going to let him pull you in again, you couldn’t. You miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as he moves the teasing finger to your exposed stomach. He still hasn’t let you up to change out of your clothes from yesterday or to use the bathroom, you considered screaming bloody murder until he came rushing back in but ultimately decided the silent treatment was more fun. Cash moves his hand further up your crop top just under your bra. You feel a blush sweep across your cheeks now feeling a bit anxious as you feel Cash sit up next you, never removing his hand from under your shirt. Cash chuckles softly to himself.
“You’re being ridiculous Butterfly, but I really want to see how far you’re willing to take this. So how about we play a little game?” Cash said huskily, he leans in close enough for you to feel his hot breath in your ear. Your breathing picks up at the action, but you never let your eyes stray from the TV. Cash chuckles again pushing you forward a bit so he could sit behind you, his long legs placed on either side of you. Cash pulls you back into him, so your head is placed lazily on his chest. You let out a surprised, soft gasp when you feel how hard he is against your lower back, and find yourself biting back a moan, you always thought he’d be big, but you didn’t think he’d be that big. You’re not sure how you manage to keep your eyes trained on the screen as a tenfold of emotions wash over you at once, an odd mix of arousal, fear, desire, and anger. You feel Cash place a few tender kisses on your neck and shoulders and the action makes you want to cry. Being in him in this way was all you ever dreamed of but now it felt like a slap in the face.
“I want to see how long you can stay quiet, Butterfly. If you make a sound, you have to end this little act of defiance and spend some romantic time with me today, let me take care of you. If you somehow manage not to let a single whimper out of that pretty little mouth I’ll take you back home, how’s that sound” he cooed in your ear, you nod your head in acknowledgement considering his proposition but still feeling incredibly conflicted. You were still mad at him of course but you still wanted to be close to him despite what your better judgement was telling you. You were still very much afraid, you wanted to keep that wall up, you wanted to protect yourself from him hurting again, but you for the first time felt compelled to actually tell someone what you were afraid of. You’re not sure why you’re having this revelation now that he’s got his hand up your shirt and willing to deliver something you only dreamed about in those years filled with raging hormones.
You were so wrapped up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Cash roll up your shirt. You could feel him placing a multitude of hot opened mouth kisses down your neck and shoulders. You note that he seems to enjoy taking his time simply running his large hands over your exposed skin. He trails one hand down one of your legs aimlessly while the other glides up to grip one of your breasts firmly over your bra. You bite down on your lip to prevent a whine from escaping, and you hurriedly move to pry his hand off your breast. Cash lets out another soft chuckle before tilting your chin up to look at him.
“You can’t move my hands away, Butterfly. That’s cheating, you have to use your words and uttering a word means I win” he scolded teasingly you narrow your eyes at him, Cash simply looks down at you with a smug smirk plastered across his face, before he finally moves both of his hands under your bra, his fingers very abruptly roughly pinch your nipples. You feel your hips buck up involuntarily as you bite down harder on your lower lip.
“Did that feel good, baby?” he crooned, you don’t respond clenching your eyes shut when he gives your nipples another long pinch. You wanted to smack the shit out of him so bad right now, to scream at him some more because it felt good to yell at him for once. Twelve years of unresolved baggage had been bubbling inside of you and you really didn’t want to be him when it finally came out.
“You’re really quite good at this, I’m surprised.” He said teasingly, you feel one of his hands trail down to unbutton your shorts and your eyes fly open. Forcing yourself to gaze up at him in warning, Cash smirks down at you in amusement.
“If you don’t want me to do it all you have to do is say so, Butterfly. That would mean I win; you can say you don’t want that, but I think we both know you do.” He said teasingly before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, you absent mindedly kiss him back for a moment because it never felt like this any of the times you kissed Jack. You remind yourself Cash left you just like Jack did and he’d do it all over again if you gave him the chance. You sharply turn your head away from him breaking the kiss but not uttering a sound. You catch a glimpse of dejection in Cash’s icy eyes, but he says nothing as he holds intense eye contact with you. You stare back at him, your eyes flashing the same warning when you feel him unzip your shorts. You shake your head ‘No’ at him, but Cash ignores you seeming to want to prove a point.
“What Y/N can’t stand me seeing how wet you are for me right now?” he said tauntingly cocking an eyebrow at you, as he placed his hand right below your navel, you feel your face flush with anger and embarrassment, letting your eyes glare daggers at his hand. You feel him chuckle against your back, it only seems to give you a taunting reminder of how big he is, a reminder of how much you both actually want each other. Cash flashes you one last smirk before letting his hand disappear into your shorts over your panties. He eagerly makes a few rough hurried passes over your panties and swollen bud, and you can’t help it anymore.
“CASHTON” you cried out angrily, you were so close to freeing yourself, so close to finally getting away from him. Something tells you he wasn’t actually going to take you home to begin with he just wanted an excuse to touch you and you gave it to him on a silver platter. Cash chuckled one last time before finally withdrawing his hand, you let out a slight whimper at the loss of contact and you hate yourself for it. You can tell by the quick hopeful glint in his eyes he heard it too. “I need to use the bathroom” you finally manage to get out through shaky breathes. Cash smirks at you.
“I can finish you off Butterfly you’re so wet for me already, really I don’t mind” he said flirtatiously, and you shoot him the nastiest glare you could muster as you sit up and scoot away from his hard member. Feeling it on your back still has your clit throbbing eagerly.
“I need to shower and pee because you’ve had me chained to this bed for seventeen hours now. I’m hungry, thirsty, and pissed off do you really want to test me right now” you seethed glaring daggers at him, this only seems to amuse him as he digs in his pants pocket for the key. He pointedly only unlocks the one attached to the headboard.
“You forgot horny, Butterfly. I don’t like my given name that much but hearing you scream it like that has it growing on me and I’m really enjoying this new fiery side of you. You were also asleep for at least fourteen of those hours it really hasn’t been that bad for you” he said teasingly, you give him a sharp elbow to the stomach, hearing him let out a pained grunt excited you in a strange erotic kind of way. You storm out of the bed, stomping your feet the entire way to the bathroom. Quickly snatching your duffle bag from the armchair as you go, you make it to the bathroom and pointedly slam the door as hard as you can before locking it.
“Don’t break anything in there, princess, or it’ll be coming out of your cushy Wall Street salary” he cooed teasingly through the door. You stick your tongue out at the door and roll your eyes muttering a few profanities under your breath. You decide to take your sweet getting ready, spending about twenty-five minutes in the shower just letting the hot water rain down on your still aching muscles.
“Are you okay in there, Butterfly? Put on one of your cute little mini dresses for me, huh. We can take a walk along the bay after lunch then I’ll take you up to the lighthouse” Cash said in an inviting tone through the bathroom door, you roll your eyes and mutter a bunch of profanities under your breath. Although the promise of getting out of this room for a bit makes you ridiculously happy, maybe you just had temporary break up depression after all. Or maybe you just needed some hot dirty meaningless sex, as much as you wanted to be able to do that with Cash you couldn’t. Because it wouldn’t be meaningless to you, part of you wanted to believe it wouldn’t be meaningless to him either but everything about this whole fucked situation was telling you this was just fulfilling a fantasy for him.
“I guess you calling me a princess went to my head, warden” you replied sharply before turning off the water, wrapping a towel around your body and one around your hair. You could hear Cash chuckling under his breath as you dig through your duffle bag. You don’t miss how your mom packed the skimpiest clothes from your suitcase. You scoff when you find a tiny sheer black nightgown with the tags still on it and matching undergarments. You can’t help but wonder what Cash actually told her yesterday; she was getting too nosey for her own good and you were going to have an earful to give her when Cash decided to let you go. You knew he would inevitably let you go just like he had done before.
“What the hell, mom” you mutter under your breath before shoving it to the bottom of the bag. You pick a simple floral sundress and get dressed quickly before stepping out of the bathroom to find Cash lounging on the bed.
“You were in there forever, Butterfly. If you’re trying to think up an escape plan in that pretty little head of yours it won’t work. You look amazing though” Cash cooed, you hate that you still find yourself blushing when he compliments you especially after all the out-of-pocket things, he’s done to you in the past two days and what he just did to you in bed less than an hour ago. Cash sits up and beckons you towards him with a finger; you roll your eyes and approach him cautiously.
“You’re a shit head, you know that.” you sneered, Cash gives you a menacing glare as reaches his hand out towards you. You eye it suspiciously for a moment but ultimately decide you should accept it. You gently place your smaller hand in his large one, Cash throws you one of his mischievous smiles before attaching the free cuff dangling from your left wrist to his own wrist. You let out a loud groan.
“Wow, this is soooo romantic, Cash. I wonder what I did to deserve this much care and consideration during my prison sentence. Did you bribe someone to take your written exam for you because this trip of yours looks like it was planned by a five year old” you said sarcastically, Cash gave you an intense glare and you swear you see a hint of dejection in his eyes again. You feel the slightest twinge of guilt in your chest, you wonder how he thinks you felt when he cut you out of his life.
“I didn’t know being with me was so miserable for you, Butterfly. I see your time cuffed to the bed didn’t do anything to subside your bratty attitude, maybe we won’t be going on that walk after all. I was really hoping to ease you into being intimate with me but you’re not leaving me with many options” he said in a low threatening tone as he pulled you firmly out of the bedroom and down the hall.
“Why is having sex with me so damn important to you now, you had so many chances, Cash. I gave you so many chances, you didn’t take any of them and now you decide after twelve years of acting like I don’t exist that I’m good enough for you now. I wasn’t good enough for you to return any one of calls, I wasn’t good enough for you to ask to prom, you couldn’t even go to a movie with me without disappearing to make out in the lobby with Cindy Ryan and you complained every time we went shopping. Now you just want me to act like everything is okay and that I’m happy you’re finally choosing me now when you’re leaving next week. So, stop acting like you’re trying to make me happy or that you’re trying to make this special for me when both know it’s never been about me, you don’t care about me. It’s always been about you, Cash. So, if forcing me to sleep with you is what it’s going to take for you to finally stop hurting me then that’s fine. Just get it over with already so I can go home, and you can go back to happy life free of me” you snapped, turning around to storm back into the bedroom.
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HSR: 2.3.1 PF Recap
This is the last solo post I'll be doing for endgame content. After I’ve finished 2.4’s cycle, I'll do one long post about all the EGC recaps for it; the same process will apply to all future cycles (subject to change upon the release of more modes—I can only yap for so long before hitting the dreaded word limit.) Everything should be easier for me to keep track of this way. I hope you'll like the new format when the time comes!
Apologies for the image distortion: Tumblr doesn’t do well with long photos.
A little later than I wanted to be on this recap but it's finally here! PF is still my least favorite form of endgame so I took my sweet time getting around to it. Thankfully, it only took three sessions worth of trying to finish this time around.
I ended up needing to use four different teams to get all 12 stars. While I did try to do both stages with the same two teams, this ultimately was not possible because the elites on stage IV were trickier to deal with and my chosen buffs were not working how I had envisioned they would. I tried using my stage III teams on IV, with every possible combination of the buffs, but I wasn’t putting out enough damage during the first phase of enemies, leading to a lack of cycle actions by the time the boss phase had arrived. It also didn’t help that Jing Yuan kept getting cc’d (i.e. trapping lightning lord), which always ruined my run, forcing me to reset time and time again.
Unsurprisingly, I called upon my resident dragon (good ol’ Mr. Failsafe) to waterboard my enemies to death. DHIL is great in a lot of places, but I don’t think he’s the most optimal unit for PF. I had to swap out so many of my support character’s pieces to make his side work for me. The process went a bit like this: gearing, trying, failing, resetting, failing, resetting, getting cc’d, resetting, failing, leaving, re-gearing, trying, failing, resetting, getting cc’d, resetting, failing, leaving, changing the buff, trying (again, and again, and again until I got tired of it and when back to the Jing Yuan team, just to be brutally reminded that that team was not going to work; thereby going back to the DHIL team), and persevering until I got enough points to move on to the second side.
These are the builds I ended up using on IV-1:
The Seele side was much less tedious; it followed the same process as the DHIL side, with the most notable difference being that I was swapping between secondary dps/support options instead of re-gearing my characters. It wasn’t until midway through the second session of attempts that I decided to just bite the bullet and use my severely underleveled Herta. With Herta in tow, I figured out the best strategy for giving myself as many turns as possible during the first enemy phase. After I got the rhythm going it was smooth sailing; that is unless Herta died or someone got cc’d by the deer’s roots, making me have to reset a nearly perfect run (disgruntled sigh). In the end, I was able to score over 33K points on this side, which was good enough to get me where I needed to be to secure the infamous 12th star.
These builds were used on IV-2:
Some of Herta’s stat information is incorrect because she’s actually lvl 60 on my account; Fribbels only generates maxed out showcases and I wanted the pictures to match. :)
Truly a process of all time. I suppose it was worth it because 800 jades added to the Sparkle fund is better than nothing. If the next PF only has follow-up buffs, I might lose it a little bit. I can't keep living like this. Himeko, please! Come home (on standard), I'm begging.
Alright, that's enough of this. I’ll see y’all in 2.5 for the next one. Thanks for reading!
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr 2.3#pure fiction#out of thin air#hsr endgame recap#hsr imbibitor lunae#hsr tingyun#hsr hanya#hsr aventurine#hsr seele#hsr herta#hsr ruan mei#hsr gallagher#hsr jing yuan#hsr bronya#hsr asta#hsr guinaifen#hsr pela#tjs hsr shenanigans#tjemegames
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Hot Take
Okay so now that I've been on the website instead of the app for a few days I have things to say I think.
The app is better (for me) than the website hands down. Easy. No competition. And no, this is not just because I am used to the app version. I actually thought this out.
Things the website does better than the app (to satisfy you long term tumblees):
I can delete a poll from my post if I accidentally click it thinking it is the listing format option. I do this a lot because listing is different than font type in every document editor ever, and there is no way to remove polls from drafted posts on mobile that I have found. The website puts a big fat red X in the top corner of the poll. This is helpful
Bigger screen = less overwhelm. The information to screen ratio is smaller which is less overwhelming for my skrunkly little brain. Also, since I have the pride theme activated (which was a bitch to try and find) all the extra space is pink!
More customization options. I haven't actually played with this, but it seems to be the thing that most Tumblr users use to say the website is better than the app. I did notice there were more options for themes when I finally figured out how to do that, which was cool. (On mobile, I'm pretty sure there are just 4 themes: light mode, dark mode, tumblr classic, and pride. I could be wrong though)
No push notifications. I have notifs turned on on mobile for all of the polls I follow, so I get like over 30 notifications from Tumblr alone overnight. It's very stressful, but I put up with it because it keeps me from missing voting times and ensures that I can go through and like every post that comes out from accounts that I am invested in. I know liking does nothing algorithm wise. I just like showing support and likes are a nice, quick, easy way to do that. Anyway, without the push notifications, I'm pretty much confined to me my feed, which I've never HAD to scroll before. The way I am now consuming content has become (mostly) more relaxed and less stress inducing.
Text formatting. I like that it's a drop down menu. In the app, It's just a button, and you have to press it repeatedly to get the format you want (this is fonts and listing specific).
Things mobile does better that the website
Navigation. Oh my gosh the app is SO much easier to navigate than the website. It took me less time comparatively to figure out how the app worked than it did for me to figure out how to do most things on the website. The website has been around longer, and therefore has the opportunity to be more complicated. The whole point of mobile apps is to be a simple, accessible way to go about navigating whatever the app is for. It's just easier to use.
Typing in posts. The amount of times my laptop has just randomly stopped typing in the middle of the post is ridiculous. It tends to happen when the "draft saved" bubble pops up, which makes me think it may be a glitch with the website rather than my computer. My computer also does not have this problem literally anywhere else. Also, the "draft saved" bubble, while cute and reassuring, obstructs my vision just a bit. There is so much dead space to either side. Why is this bubble not off to a side instead of right in the middle of where I am typing? It was also difficult for me to find the text formatting option, but this is mostly because I was not used to it.
GIFs. I do lots of propaganda, and to save space on my device I use gifs instead of going on the internet and downloading pictures and finding video links. I'm not always very good with words, and find that images tend to be more convincing anyway. On the mobile app, when I search something in the GIF search bar, it stays there even after I've made a selection. Not having to re-type my search 10 times makes it a lot easier and less monotonous to look for propaganda and fill up a post. This is not the case on the website. As I learned after attempting "Kitbull" propaganda, you have to re-type your search each time you add a new GIF. That got annoying really fast, and I only wound up putting two GIFs when I would normally use all image spaces (10).
Push Notifications. But I thought you said the website not doing this made consuming content less stressful??? I know what I said, and yes, for the most part, it does. However there are a lot more areas where the lack of push notifs on the website make my Tumblr experience a lot more stressful. For one thing, I am missing out on ALL of those polls. I follow SO MANY polls, because I was able to keep up with all of them as long as I had push notifications. I have not been able to vote in many polls this last week because I would have to go through and search every single one of their usernames exactly correct to find their pages and vote in my regular fashion. I simply do not have the time, energy, or memory to be able to do this. I also do not get notified when I am sent a message. I learned recently that most Tumblr users don't use the "share" function on posts, (via) however my girlfriend and I use it all the time. Our feeds consist of different interests that we like sharing with one another, so we share posts and polls back and forth just for funsies. To show that we love each other. Etc. etc. The website does not notify me when I get these messages unless I am actively in the tab, so I don't know when she's sent me something. Same goes for any interaction with my account or on my posts. I cannot see if someone has made a comment or a silly reblog with funny tags unless I am in the app. You know what the website DOES show me? How many new posts have been made. This is CONSTATLY refreshing even while I am actively scrolling and not only shows up in the app but also in the tab information. This is why I have such a problem with this. I understand that computers in general just don't do push notifications, but usually with social media, you can see how many notifications you have by checking the tab above the search bar. There's usually a little number in parenthesis next to the title or name of the social media you are using. This is very helpful for me, since my computer doesn't always give a little sound when I get any kind of notification, so I can just look over and see what I've missed while I was queuing up Spotify or playing Minesweeper or Solitaire. With Tumblr, this number only factors in the number of posts that I haven't seen yet. This number stressed me out, has me constantly refreshing the page even before I am done scrolling, and is not actually helpful in any capacity.
Page Jumping. Both the website and the app are dogwater at not jumping around the page while you scroll. However, the app is slightly less so. Page jumps in the mobile app only happen when an ad loads in where it wasn't before. This is pretty consistent with how any webpage, crappy mobile game, or social media app works on a phone (on my phone at least). When I'm scrolling anything I have to be careful to wait until all ads have loaded before I try pressing a button or I'll accidentally hit something I'm not supposed to. On the website on my computer, Tumblr page jumps every time I reblog. EVERY. TIME. Reblogging is, like, the currency of the realm. It is how things are meant to be done. I don't have the energy for a page jump every time I try to reblog something. That's gross.
Screenshots. This is admittedly more of a device difference than a Tumblr format difference, but it is affecting how I interact with Tumblr, so I thought I should put it on here. If you actually follow me and try to keep up with what I post (which isn't much) you know about my Untitled Bots threads. Essentially when I see a bot follow me, and their name is either blank or "Untitled" I screenshot it, crop it to the word "Untitled" and add it to the thread with a silly quip or lament or goofy photo. However, to make sure I don't miss any, I don't block and report these bots until after I've gotten a screenshot of their profile. Because it is so difficult to take and edit screenshots on my laptop specifically, I have not updated this thread even after being able to access Tumblr via the website.
For these reasons, I have decided the app is better than the website. Thank you. Have a nice day.
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #112
Yesterday's letter was flagged as spam on Facebook, and taken down.
Facebook is a place on the internet where people post up their various thoughts, writings, images, and whatnot so that others can see it. It's another means of screaming into the void and hoping that kindness will return to you. I generally write my letters on a place called Tumblr, and then scooch a slightly modified version of it over to Facebook, since the formatting for these places is slightly different. The goal is to make it so that my words are more likely to reach you and more likely to reach others who need them.
…I'm not really sure how it happened. Supposedly the box of maple-flavored tea that I showed you yesterday was offensive, though I'm not sure how. What's worse is that I'm not sure if it was the algorithm or what. It's complicated to explain. I'm not going to bother you with the details.
Either way, suppose I'll be posting only in this place until that gets all figured out. Suppose what I'll do on Facebook is post up that my next letter is out and give anyone the link who asks me for it.
I did some more work today, listing and describing items. I also did some dishes. I also finally got around to putting the third layer of epoxy on the amethyst tree sphere. Hopefully by the time it's cured, the inconsistencies in its shape will be mostly gone and it'll be ready to be sanded. The set of extremely fine-grit sandpaper arrived today, and I'm eager to put it to good use. I hope it turns out well. Suppose we'll see what happens.
Today it's warm enough outside to leave all the windows of the house open, so we opened all the windows. The breeze flowing in smells like grass and fresh soil; it's a good smell. I wish you were here to enjoy it.
At some point, I took a walk. Some of the plants around where I live are starting to sprout leaves again. I know that you like pictures of nature, so I took a few pictures for you; maybe you'll like them:
I also found a feather on the ground later in the day:
...Maybe I'll imagine that it means you'll be safe somehow.
…I feel kind of lost and empty today for reasons I don't fully understand. I think maybe I just need more water and food. I haven't been eating or hydrating well for the last several days. I drank a rehydration solution today (Pedialyte), but I've only eaten minimally; not much of an appetite. I haven't been sleeping well, either, for various reasons. Suppose if I wanna feel better, I'm gonna hafta do a better job of the whole self-care thing for at least the next week or so. Bleh.
Are you taking care of yourself? Are you safe and warm? Do you have plenty of food to eat and things to drink? Soft plushies to hug? I know you can't answer me, but I'll ask anyway. I'll ask because you deserve to have people check in on you. I'll ask because I wish you could answer. Nobody here knows, of course. And I suppose the uncertainty of it all is very difficult to deal with. But I'll keep doing my best. I'll keep my eyes and ears open for any news.
Br is visiting, and that feels good. Upon realizing that I've not eaten much today, she cut some fruit for us to share. I have a bowl of Asian pear slices and chunks of dragonfruit. I wonder if you've ever had these. I wonder if you'd like them:
We were going to watch Junk Man, but folks were hungry, and so we went to the grocery store to get a pizza. Br can't have gluten, so we got this pizza that was made with tapioca flour. And we also got toppings to add to it, since it was just a cheese pizza. We put on roasted garlic, portobello mushrooms, and pepperoni (we checked the ingredients to make sure there was no gluten, don't worry)! I was delighted to find out that the crust tastes and feels like Brazilian cheese bread! And if you don't know what that is, it's basically this bread thing that is wonderfully chewy and cheesy and amazing. The pizza was absolutely delectable!!
…It probably doesn't surprise you to know that I feel a lot better since eating. Bodies and minds get weird when the blood sugar gets low. I'll have to try to be more mindful of making sure I eat even when I don't have much of an appetite, I guess.
Br had to leave by 9 though, so there wasn't enough time for a movie. But we watched Steven Universe instead! J and I have already seen it through several times, but Br still hasn't seen most of it. Today we got to the part where we meet Lapis Lazuli.
…I think maybe you might relate to her, at least a little. She was enslaved in a mirror and used as a tool for years before Steven set her free. She was understandably very angry at the other gems for knowingly keeping her trapped in the mirror. She responded by attacking them, and then stealing the ocean, but then Steven talked to her and fixed it. It's a long and complicated story, but it's wholesome.
…I wish you could come here and watch Steven Universe with us, because actually, I think there's a lot in it that you would be able to relate to. I wish you could watch it with us and eat the yummy pizza with us. I wish you could see the whole thing. And I wish I could give you all kinds of tasty snacks to enjoy while we watch it. Alas… alas…
Well. I'm maybe rambling a little. So I suppose I'll end today's letter here. Don't forget that there are people out here wishing well on you, okay?
I love you. I'll write again in a little while. Please stay safe.
Your friend, Lumine
#sephiroth#ThankYouFFVIIDevs#ThankYouFF7Devs#ThankYouSephiroth#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy vii crisis core#final fantasy 7 crisis core#final fantasy crisis core#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#crisis core#ff7r#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy 7 remake#ffvii remake#ff7 remake#final fantasy vii rebirth#final fantasy 7 rebirth#ffvii rebirth#ff7 rebirth#final fantasy 7 ever crisis#ffvii ever crisis#ff7 ever crisis#ffvii first soldier#facebook algorithm woes#bad brain days#wholesome
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Introducing...
Me.
I know I've been on here for a while, but I figured I should do a little introduction post. I don't normally show my face, but here ya go! I'm JoJo, and I write Legend of Zelda fan fiction. I'm 35 and I've been married for 16 years to my amazing husband. I'm a stay-at-home mom of two wonderful girls (10 and 7) and we homeschool. I first got into writing fan fiction after i started playing my first Zelda game, Breath of the Wild. (Yes, I know, I'm a latecomer.) I bought the game for my husband for his birthday, but my girls got more into it than he did! At first I wasn't interested in playing it because I wasn't into open-world style games, but then I got to playing Pokemon: Legends Arceus (I've always been a Pokemon fan). I realized I liked the open world style, and after watching my girls play Breath of the Wild some more I decided to try it out for myself. I fell in love with the game over the summer last year, and I couldn't put it down.
My girls like to watch YouTube videos, and someone modded in Zelda as the main hero instead of Link. It gave the the spark for a story - what would happen if Zelda and Link traveled together on his adventure? I couldn't stop thinking about it and just had to write it down. It turned into an 82-chapter longfic, which then spread into 2 prequel stories and became a 3-part series. FanFiction.net was where I first published my story, but I hated the format. I waited patiently in line for an AO3 account, which I joined in September of 2022. Then I found Reddit, Discord, and finally Tumblr...and the rest is history. I also found amazing artists who have been partnering with me with my writing, which has been such an amazing feeling. Seeing my ideas come to life...there's nothing like it. I've met so many wonderful people on these sites and made so many online friends, both in and outside the fandom, and I've been met with such love and support it's overwhelming. Even though it's only online, I feel like I've made friends for life. Sharing common interests with others who feel just as passionate as you do...it's amazing!! If you've read this far, thank you...and I'm so happy you're here! I hope you enjoy my writing, and if not, at least the pictures I post here on my Tumblr account <3
If you have any questions, feel free to ask! I'm an open book (mostly)!
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hello! do you perhaps have any tips/advice for those starting their first writing blog?
my tips r mostly gonna b mindset/writing tips rather than like "hacking the tumblr algorithm" type stuff so if that's what ur into then read on:
first up, let's get the few "notes/numbers" tips i can give u out of the way:
from what i can tell, most readers read from the tags rather than their dashboard, so pay attention to what tags people actually use for fics (throwing your tags in the general tags for groups/idols generally isn't as helpful for getting people to actually READ them than putting them in the actual fic tags bc people go into the general tags more for visual content [pictures/gifs] or updates from my experience. when people want to read fic, they go into those fic tags)
this is just a courtesy thing: please tag your stuff correctly! if your fic is, for example, a reader x taeyong fic, only use taeyong, nct, nct 127, or nct u-derivative tags, do not use any other unit (wayv, dream) or any other member tags, even if those other units or members are mentioned or have substantial roles! (a proper love triangle is different, u can include both legs of the love triangle). i assure you, if you spam tag, and put your stuff in places it doesn't belong (god forbid in completely unrelated fandoms or groups), the people who went in those tags looking for content actually about that thing, are just going to be annoyed at best, and pissed off and block u at worst so they don't have to see ur work in their tags ever again. some ppl use the block button very liberally (as is their right. spam tagging fics is annoying as hell)
also, try to keep up with what tags readers are actually going in to read. i've been reading & writing fic for 10+ years now, and have seen the evolution of language in fandom and around fic writing, primarily on tumblr and i've had to uh, keep up with the times to make sure my fics were following wherever the readers were. this shouldn't be hard if you're an active reader yourself but it was something that caught me off-guard when i realized we stopped using "imagine" at some point (dont even get me started on the change from lemon to smut)
post formatting! figure out how you want to format your actual fics on tumblr and stick with it! (trust me....it's exhausting changing ur formatting across dozens of posts.............. but if u rlly hate it after a while just commit and change it lol);; take inspo (dont just copy and paste bc that's tacky) from some of ur favorite writers, figure out what u like to see in a fic (heading text of the title, picture header, indentation, small text, word count, genre tags, content warnings, pairing info, preview, summary, dividers, etc.), and decide what u want to include in urs!
finally for this part: THERE IS NO TUMBLR ALGORITHM. EVERYONE CURATES THEIR OWN DASHBOARD EXPERIENCE AND ITS BEAUTIFUL AND MORE PEOPLE NEED TO PUT IN THE EFFORT TO DO THAT AND FOLLOW THE WRITERS THAT THEY ENJOY READING IN THE TAGS SO THEY CAN KEEP UP WITH THEM AND CONTINUE TO LIKE AND INTERACT AND ACTUALLY GROW AND DEVELOP A CONNECTION AND COMMUNITY
and now my more "mindset/writing" tips:
this is literally in my pinned: i write for fun and for free. i write things that i like, and because i enjoy doing it, and i post them on the internet for free. it is not my job, and coming online should not be stressing me out. and i've been able to keep that up for a year now since my comeback after an unexpected hiatus, and it's honestly been one of my best years of writing as an author.
i think that figuring out a way to write in a way that's sustainable and fun for you is the most important part. people will stick around if you can find that. i've been able to create a community around my works no matter what fandom i was in, for 10 years, and that includes 10 years ago when i was literally like 12, 13, 14 years old writing things that 12, 13, 14 year olds write. and i do think it's because i was always having fun, and interacting with the people who stuck around. and when i stopped having fun, i was done. nct has officially been the longest fandom i've written in, even discounting my year hiatus, which is crazy to think about btw
when you get someone who follows and interacts and is a recurring reader/reblogger/asker/commenter, i'm sure u will already be like '!!!!!' bc that's what my brain does anyway, but make them feel welcome. don't just focus on the tags and the numbers and the notes. what really makes me feel good at the end of the day is seeing the same few people come back and talking to them and knowing that they like my stuff so much they wanna read more. to me, the tags are a means to an end. the tags are a way to hopefully get a few more people like that to find my blog and follow and stick around for more in the future.
small blog org tip: make your blog easy to navigate for people who are checking it out for the first time from finding a fic in the tag or from someone else rbing it or smth! i always link my masterlist at the end of every fic, it's in my pinned and description, and i just try to make it very easy for people to find more fics of mine if they want to :)
i think that compared to other social medias, you'll find that it's slow but steady growth on tumblr (or at least, that's been my experience), but as long as you're writing what you like, it'll make the rocky start feel a little less rocky (i know it sucks when ur not getting any notes. i know. i promise. it's like bringing a cake to a party and nobody eats it. but sometimes u just have to have a piece of ur own cake and go home and bake another one bc u like baking and hope maybe next time everyone will see it)
and just remember that this is your blog! post stuff you like! don't be afraid to let people see the personality of the person posting all these fics that they're reading. most people like knowing that kind of stuff, even outside of stuff like ur bias or fave unit or wtv. i make all my unhinged posts (which, admittedly, have ended up costing me some followers but if u can't handle me at my unhinged perfume jungwoo posts then u don't deserve me at my buzzer beater sungchan) and post pictures of bread and complain abt work or whatever in addition to all my stuff about my wips and then the final fics. i think treating ur blog like an actual blog does a lot to make it feel like there's a real person behind the acct
#i hope that literally any of this was helpful#as always i just ramble :)#if u wanted specifically writing tips lmk and like be specific as to what kind bc thats very broad#answered#anonymous#talk#text#mine#writing tag
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man if im shifting (semi successfully I might add) back to tumblr as the Main Spot I really need to get my oc rambling back over here where it belongs instead of on my secret priv Twitter Lemme quick catch u all up on what’s happening to me right now—
last week or whatever I finally executive decisioned VERY EXCITINGLY for us that Pasi’s father is none other than !!!Dionysus!!!!!!! there’s a post about that somewhere on here >:)
and since then I have been 1) working out at long last the never before seen official polished Elysiumverse Dionysus design; 2) also scribbling together some loosely sequential comic pages that go along with this reveal for some added juicy characterization and scene setting, mostly just a venue for me to dump some dialogue snippets in a presentable format instead of leaving them in my notes app or floating in my head forever; and 3) just generally COMPLETELY fixated on dionysus in the elysiumverse in a quite frankly ANNOYING AND ALARMING way aaAAHGG
while reading fun facts about ariadne last night and this morning (fixated completely right now I’m telling you!!!!) (also I did not know she became the goddess of LABYRINTHS that’s very cool but also lowkey so MEAN) i then went on a little tangent that I’m straight up reposting from my twt rambling here too - ahem it’s that the crux of the, let’s say, imaginary Elysium show bible yknow —the big thematic whiteboard in my head if you will — is that most importantly, Olympians Are Assholes. full stop almost no exceptions. are they all morally gray and deeply nuanced figures as a whole? yes! is the elysiumverse the place to explore that?? ABSOLUTELY NOT it is (TAPS WHITEBOARD) Veeeeeery specific here about our MO!! as such i keep having to pull myself from the edge of daydreaming and straighten myself out, as in like even when they do nice things I have to reframe within the elysiumverse bc that’s. that’s the point.
Case in absoluteeee point right now as im daydreaming about di & ariadne today- a myth that I actually love and think is really sweet outside of our personal toybox - it’s like NO, NO, FOCUS, STOP IT, THEY’RE *ALL* THE BAD GUYS EVERY TIME. anyway-
In conclusion. Elysium ariadne design when. okay seriously though I’m so psyched to reveal Elysium!Di as I’m working on these comics I’m spending all my time just staring at the reference picture I made. get hyped he’s SO sick.
now we’re all on the same page xoxo
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