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kismetlotts · 4 days

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Kinktober 🎃 day five: Rape!

cw: rape, obsessive König, coffee shop worker reader, mentions of oral sex, cumming untouched, submissive and dominant play? mentions of breast play, mentions of cumming on breasts, mentions of spitting, name calling e.g. 'whore', underwear obsessed König, mentions of killing, threatening a side character, public sex, sex at workplace, sex in the dark?, König is rough with reader e.g carrying and dragging, König’s ego is big, fingering, König finishing quickly, quick sex, pantie stealing, creampie,

König who gained an obsession with you. He would come in every Monday to Thursday at the local coffee shop you worked at, ordering the same medium cup of black coffee and sitting at the table in the corner. Big, dirtied and muddy fingers tracing the white ceramic cup, tracing over where your fingers touched.

Them gorgeous fingers that gripped onto the handle of the coffee machine, making another pumpkin spiced latte for all the boring, tasteless average women who’d come along. Waiting, paying and leaving- not appreciating the fine art of what you just created.

You’d thought he was weird, sat in the corner all day- no phone, no laptop, not doing a singlar thing other than sitting. Your coworkers had even discussed if they should kick him out from the mask he’d wear, a dark brown hood but you’d heard him speak, heard his manners and pleaded them not to.

He was mysterious of course but he wasnt intimidating in any way, he wasn’t causing chaos, simply just minding his buisness and taking sips off coffee from underneath the fabric. Taking subtle glances at him throughout your shift unaware hed be staring at you the whole time, pupils flicking away quickly before you could catch him.

Your first encounter with him, besides over the counter was when hed accidentally spilt his coffee, flooding the wooden table with the hot, steaming liquid, almost as if he wasnt looking at what he was doing or where his cup was. You quickly darted over. The sway in your hips and confidence radiating off of you as you used your rag to wipe the spillage with a cheerful smile, eyes meeting his own dark blue ones.

"Das ist meine schuld- I apologise!" He rushed to spit out, clearly caught off guard by his own actions as well. his large figure standing up and giving you room to wipe without hitting him but all you did was chuckle and pat the table, shaking your head and noting his accent. Russian? German? You werent very good at identifying accents.

His jeans tightend at the way you looked back at him, sexy body arched over the table as you cleared up the mess he made, what a naughty boy he’d been. Chest caving as he yearned to reach out and grab the back of your neck, rudely and selfishly shoving your face down to his crotch but he resisted, he couldn’t- not in such an open place.

"Its fine! Would you like another one? On me?" But all he could do was nod, face burning with embarrasment as the only thing he was focused on in that sentance was 'On me' and all the things that could mean. Oh you wanted him to cum on you instead of inside? You wanted to feel him paint you white, marking and coating you as his territory, watching as beads of his thick semen splurted onto your tits, your soft, kissable tits.

Or maybe you were talking about spitting- hed spit on you. On your face, on your chest, on your cunt because you were a whore for him and thats what whores get. Hed spit on you for sure. He looked down, seeing how the light reflects off of his black cargos, the small shine where his hard cock was confirming to him that he’d came in his boxers.

As more and more days carried on, you’d become more friendly with him. 'What would you like?' becoming 'Your usual?' and 'I’ll shout your order when its done!' turning into a 'I’ll let you know when its ready, König'. Hearing you say his name, so delicate and pristine: as if you were scared to butcher the pronunciation, was torturous and he’d have to ask you out sometime soon because fuck.

Just entering the store made him stiff, the smell of coffee making him thirsty for you- i mean he’d almost followed you home just to take a peak in your underwear draw but he didnt want to ruin the suprise of discovering what panties you wear- he was saving that for when you finally let him make love to you.

Maybe you wore big, comfy pants that covered you up well and allowed you to relax- no need to impress anyone just being cozy and warm. Or maybe they were small and pink, little bit of frill along the edges with a bow right in the middle, so innocent and sweet; like your appearance, like you’d taste. But no, it was something about the way you strut by him, the way your shoulders sit by your side. You were dripping with independence, a confident girl and maybe a bit of a brat too- a thong wearer, for sure.

Weeks of encouraging himself, days of persuading himself your answer would be yes and an hour of rehearsing what he was going to say, led to him fumbling it infront of you and asking you out for- ironically- a coffee. You’d let out a giggle and König felt pretty hopeful, but the second you lost eye contact something twisted in his stomach, your hand reached to collect his empty coffee cup from the table as you tapped your foot nervously on the floor. Stumbling over your words and coming up with some fucking fake- stupid excuse.

"I really would- but I have alot of drinks to make a serve- it’s October now- weather getting colder- drinks getting hotter and all!" A laugh falling your lips but he wasnt laughing, just staring at you. You were lying- why were you lying? Did he scare you? Was he not your type? Was this all just some friendly banter he misinterpreted this whole time? But he knew exactly what his was.

Laughing back at your words before standing up and heading in the direction of the toilets, shouting a quick and awkward 'I see' before quickly walking by the toilets and through the staff only door. Entering the office and heading for the computer because he wasnt heading to the toilet- or heading back home. He was heading to your home or dare he say, your partners? But before that, he’s got to find the address.

What a fat, lazy slob just reclining on the couch, drink in hand as he watched the television, not even realising it wasn’t you home from work but König there with a gun in his hand. Too focused on whatever show he was watching to actually turn his head and check up from you. Not even a simple, ‘How’s work?’

It wasn’t hard getting the man packed, petrified and silenced in under an hour while waving a gun in his face, brown hood on and towering over him pathetically. You were now König’s, he’d found you and claimed you- any man, no. Any boy, who wishes to go against that will have to deal with the consequences.

He wasnt going to kill him unless he had to, all he wanted, well, needed was for him out the picture. Threatening if he doesnt leave and end things with you over message later that day, that he’d track him down and kill him. And that if he even dares to hint that someone forced him into that decision to anyone, that his mother, father, little siblings and cousins would all be following behind.

He went along with it obviously, the fucking pussy. He stayed silent and left you forever, and it ruined you in the moment. You loved him so much and for so long for him just to abandon you like that? Something just didnt seem right. You slept on it or at least tried to, woke up and got ready for work, already wishing it was your day off. Slipping on a bring orange pumpkin hat because as if your day couldnt get any worse it was Halloween. Halloween where kids would run about, stealing sweeties from one another, Halloween where couples would cuddle up together and watch scary films- wearing homemade costumes with fake blood, masks store brought or made out of hoods- but your own train of thought made you freeze. Hoods?

Your stomach dropped but surely you were overthinking it. König wouldn’t know who you were dating, where to even find him- fucking hell what could he have used against him that would be bad enough to make him leave? You were overthinking big time, probably from your lack of sleep, but intuition told you that it was too big of a coincidence. The same day you reject someone your loving boyfriend leaves you without no explanation? It wasn’t adding up.

And what made it scarier was entering the building to find him already there, arms crossed at his seat with eyes staring into yours. Playful yet dark- sweet with a sprinkle of sinister.

You didnt look at him, you didnt collect his empty cup, you ignored the small laugh he let out at your pumpkin hat because he wasn’t your mysterious, polite, scary yet misunderstood customer whom you’d formed a friendship with. He was a fucking psychopath. A dirty, probably perverted psychopath that made your stomach churn and you wanted nothing more than to boot him out. You should’ve listened to your coworkers when they had a creepy feeling about him. You’d thought about asking them to kick him out now but since he’d come and gone for so many days now, he’d know something has changed with the way you saw him and he’d probably target you more.

Time ticked, people had left and all staff were now gone for the week, leaving you the only staff left and the door swinging as the last person to enter exited. The dark evening night seeping through the windows as the lights turned off, leaving the electric menus above the counter, lights from the machines and lamp posts outside illuminating the darkness of the room.

It was you and him, only you and him and if things weren’t confirmed by his eerie aura earlier, him waiting until you were both alone definitely sold you on the fact he was after you. You ripped the apron off of yourself, pretty much bolting for the pitch black staff room.

Muttering a fast, 'Put your cup on the counter before you leave' despite knowing deep down the staff room was only a room. There was no lock, no keypad- you were in a shitty old coffee shop in the middle of a quiet town, alone and at night. And ‘Before you leave’ meant nothing either. He wasn’t leaving anytime soon- and neither were you.

The squack of the wooden chair being drag out was audiable from the other room you were in, breaking the deafening silence and your loud heavy breathing. Your hands shook and trembled as you rummaged for your stuff, too weak to hurry and too focused on getting out of there to hear the door behind you open and shut.

His warm presence behind your back and pinning you- you shut your eyes tears pricking them before spinning around desperately. Pushing him off of you as he generously took a step back, allowing you to run back into the coffee shop. Past the tables, knocking a chair or two as you rushed and pushed against the door. Pushing and pushing using all your weight until you heard the sound of metal rattling behind you, the silver keys and silver loop swinging around his finger as he held them up. He’d locked the door, and now you were cornered.

"Why so scared?" He spoke softly, coming a step closer, his dark eyes mocking you with fake sympathy. He knew why you were fucking scared, he knew you feared him and you figured it turned him on from the lustful glimmer in his blue irises. Seeing the quiver in your lip, the tears threatening to spill as you swallowed your emotions like a pill you had to take. Thinking that putting on a brave face will trick your mind into believing you are brave- that you can stand up to him. He found it amusing so he gave you time, he wanted to hear your pathetic little attempt. It fed to his sick fascination- his fucking pleasure more.

"What is your problem? What the fuck did you do to my boyfriend?" The little crack in your voice: orgasmic, if he wasnt waiting for you to submit to his dominance and break the holding eye contact he was holding with you, his eyes would be so far back in his head.

It boiled him, fueled him, like spreading butter onto a fresh warm pastry and watching it melt and glide so effortlessly. Would your voice crack like that when he’s balls deep inside you?

"Now, now, why are you pointing fingers, hm? Du bist meim kleiner kurbis, why would I ever do that?" His body was so close to you, you could smell the sweat and grime of his skin and despite the situation it made your stomach heat in arousal, his touch and his manerisms, his accent- it was so fucking disgusting yet you felt yourself dampen. You didn’t even know what he said- and your body gave in slightly. His hand cupped your cheek, the cold metal of the keys hitting your soft skin as his eyes locked onto the pumpkin hat with an amused look.

You could grab the keys now, shove them in the door and sprint, shout for help maybe but would you even get time? His build was muscular and he had to crouch slightly to talk to you due to his height anyway. He would grab you and prevent you from doing anything before you could even turn around, and even if you tried it, his punishment could be worse from what he wants now.

You’d found yourself caught in a dead end with nothing to do but submit and get it over with.

His mask rubbed agaisnt your neck and clothed shoulder but you could still feel the heat of his breath, the smell of coffee making bile rise in your throat. His hands found your waist and gripped on tightly, lifting you slightly as he dragged you to the table he usually sits at, throwing you ontop as it wobbled from your weight.

Tears fell and a sob escaped your throat and he unzipped his jeans, leaning over closer and pulling down your panties from beneath the work uniform he’d spent hours dreaming of, slipping a finger agaist your folds and feeling how effortlessly you coat his fingers with slick and cum. Horny?

"Aww, you want this too?" He asked but regardless of your answer he would do what he wanted, it was his time and he was more than ready. You shook your head, fighting against the pleasure your body was feeling from his touch, he was skilled with his fingers for sure, applying just enough pressure to your clit to make your back arch and you wriggle your hips- away from his finger and subconcously back against it. He let out a groan at how wet his fingers were getting before pulling away from your juicy cunt.

Reaching under your arms to tug you closer to the edge of the table, aligning his cock with your hole and wetting himself up thanks to how damp you were, mentally promising himself he’d taste you one day, maybe next time. He looked back to your face, the frown on your lips as your covered your crying eyes with your small trembling hands, so embarrassed and ashamed you were letting yourself get used like this, get forced into sex- get raped.

"You ready?" He asked and all you did was let out another sob, with a sigh he pushed forward placing his dick against your flaps and stopped, looking down and not entering you, staying completely still as he store at your face. Watching as you continued to cry into your hands before slowly lifting the palms from your face slightly.

Looking into his eyes as he looked back down, a devilish smirk forming on his lips. What a little actress, you were enoying this. You could’ve pushed him away- could’ve kicked and fought but no, you lay still even after he paused.

Thick, hard and fast as he thrusted in harshly, no care for how it may feel for you- no remorse or guilt for if he was burning, stretching or hurting you. He’d been patient for this pussy for weeks, been waiting for it- god it was like he was a virgin again. So excited to bury himself inside he hadn’t realised how close he was already.

Taking a few more slow thrusts before leaking and pouring all his cum into you, your pussy squeezing and milking every last drop out of him. Moaning loudly and squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled out, fuck- fuck that was so good. Your body was shaking, breaths barely coming to your lungs as you trembled and lay there- broken, defeated and useless. Cum dribbling out of your hole and even he felt a little bad at the sight- you didnt even get a chance to feel a little bit good, maybe next time he will fuck you like you want it.

He picked your panties up off of the floor, smooth, white, floral and cotton- it wasnt what he was expecting from you. It wasn’t a thong, it wasn’t black and laced, not like your personality at all but everyone has a secret side to them, a side they keep stashed away and only allow a select few to see.

He fumbled with his jeans, buttoning and zipping them up before turning to you, hands fumbling with the panties, his palm hitting the fabric right where your pussy was and feeling a cold, sticky, dampness. You were wet before he began touching?

"Would you like them bac-" Earning a scream from you, telling him to get the fuck out and take whatever he wants. He’d already taken and destroyed your relationship, your work, and your own body so he might as well take everything else. He could take anything else as long as he leaves and never comes back.

He swallowed, slipping them into his pocket and placing the keys next to your body on the table- if you had the energy you’d get up and slap him, punch him, grab some scissors form behind the counter and cut his fucking dick off but from how disturbing and demented he seems he’d probably enjoy that.

"I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice seeming almost shy and hushed, tone the same as when he’d first spoken to you. Anxious: almost like a whisper.

“Next time, I’ll treat you right. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, baby." He waited for you to speak but you just lay there now on your side, tears leaking and pouring from your eyes despite your still movement. With a deep breath he began to leave realising maybe it was best he left you alone for now. He couldn’t see what was wrong, or what he did wrong because in his own mind it was going to happen one day. His cock, his needs, how you expect him to live in a constant state of desperation and want. It’s like giving a child a lollipop and saying, just watch- you’re not allowed. Just watch how sweet and delicious it would taste, just watch at how the sugar shimmers in the light- when you get told you can’t have it you need it more.

He walked back into the staff room and out the back door, his hand pulling the door shut and once his footsteps echoes away, you were alone in the dark. He was gone, leaving you an emotional mess with a dirty mess to clean up, and you couldn’t move for a moment. His words haunting you and circling you like a carousel of derision.

Next time, meaning he wasnt done just yet.

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drchucktingle · 2 years

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favorite author i have never read

hey there buckaroos thank you for all the DEEP DISCUSSIONS we are having a great time here on tumblr. thought today i could make a post that is slightly more difficult its not all sunshine days ahead and requires a little introspection. LOOK AT US we have all arrived here together through trust and love and i think we can keep this going. chuck made this post on other platforms years ago and i think it was said very well then and led to some good discussion, so i am going to repost here. okay lets go deep bud here we go:

i would like to spend moment today talking about common joke i hear online (and even too my face at conventions). this is jokerman way i hear ALL the dang time: 'chuck tingle is my favorite author i have never read' or less jokerman way but of ‘i have never read his books but i love chuck tingle'.

first of all, THANK YOU buds. this is not way of call out post to make you feel bad, i appreciate your way and understand you are trying to support. this is not attack on your message and from bottom of chucks heart THANK YOU.

BUT i have to say something about this. please consider what you are saying when you post this. would you send this as message to STEPHEN KING or NEIL GAIMAN or NK JEMISIN? i doubt this. it would seem VERY RUDE to message other authors. just imagine trotting up to a writer and saying ‘i would NEVER read your books haha’ but it is sent to chuck all the dang time.

obvious reason buds say it to chuck is that i am queer author with a unique way. yes i write in realm of wild fantasy and erotic pairings, but by saying ‘i have never read chuck BUT' you are really saying 'i am posting my support of this but PLEASE DONT THINK I AM REALLY INTERESTED IN THIS PERSONALLY.' there are similar distasteful jokes that i will not repeat involving saying 'no bud on bud pounds' after a sentence that works in similar way.

is sexual art really that bad? is queer art really that embarrassing? is unusual outsider art really that funny?

it is one thing if your preferred pound is not one of chucks tinglers, that is TOTALLY FINE BUD, but if you are an adult i would say 'is it REALLY that scary to read a book about a way of sex that is not yours? is it that difficult to think that something that seems silly to you could actually MOVE YOU in an important way? do you HAVE to disconnect yourself from lgtbqia art with a 'but i don't read this myself?'

keep in mind, there are gay tinglers, there are asexual tinglers, there are trans tinglers, there are select your own timeline tinglers, there are horror tinglers. TINGLERS FOR EVERY TASTE. the thing that buds are often REALLY saying with ‘favorite author i have never read’ is ‘this is WEIRD and dont be confused because im NOT WEIRD IM COOL DONT THINK I ACTUALLY LIKE THIS’. funny enough even the proudly fun and wild and unique buckaroos will STILL say this line, maybe without taking time to think of what it means or how rude it is?

WHY would you never read a chuck book? because my way is queer? because it is neurodivergent? even if that is not there reason or even if YOUR ARE ALSO PERSONALLY QUEER AND NEURODIVERGENT TOO, think about what the joke is IMPLYING.

is sincerely enjoying something thats kind of unusual that difficult? do we really have to slather it in irony and ‘so bad its good?’ before reposting?

in closing as man name of chuck i will say you can still make this joke if you want buckaroos i know you are just having a good time proving love in your own way. i am not upset with you bud and i appreciate your support in any way you give it. there are some buckaroos who just CANT AFFORD tinglers and that is an important way i understand as well. obviously this conversation does not apply to those buds. but for the rest of us trotting along, MAYBE think about what you are really saying with this jokerman way first, and MAYBE try cracking open a tingler because you might be surprised. its not that scary bud. thank you for listening

being sincere is VERY COOL and VERY PUNK ROCK. i encourage all buckaroos out there to give it a try.

LOVE IS REAL

#chuck tingle #tingleverse #art theory #queer #lgbtqia #outsider art #neurodivergent #autism #irony #sincerity #love is real #favorite author i have never read

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miss-saytr · 1 year

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Hyperfixations are something you have to think about. You have to talk about. You have to express yourself creatively about.

I just can’t go an hour without thinking about it. The characters the history the things the science and whatever is apart of this thing you can’t stop thinking about and your head fills like a water balloon with knowledge and you constantly need more and if you see it online or in public you jolt and you feel embarrassed about it but actually not really when someone says it’s ok to talk about it but then again it’s kind of embarrassing to like this thing but yet I have the chance to talk about it.

I wore a shirt with the characters on it do you recognize them? Do you wanna talk about it? Do you like it? Oh ok who’s your favorite? Why? That’s awesome I like them too. My favorite is this character though.

What do you wanna watch tonight? I have a recommendation. You’re fine with that? Awesome. So did you know that when they made this show… did you know the inspiration for that character is… And the creator…

Ok I’ll see you tomorrow. Fuck. Why did I recommend that show? Why did I talk about it so much? They think I’m so annoying now. Don’t they. Ffffuck. Ok ok it’s fine, shake it off. I just randomly brought it up. That scene in that episode is so embarrassing. They’re gonna think I’m weird for liking this. God I hate myself for letting that happen.

I’m drawing these characters in my sketchbook. I’m writing about them in my only hand written journal. I’m making little assumptions and jotting them down. Don’t you dare look through my art of them or my journal. Please don’t. It’s so embarrassing that I even like this.

You know… if it’s so special to me, why do I feel the need to keep it a secret half the time? I think the answer lies in the quote of a boy I shared a history class with when I was still in high school. It went something along the lines of this:

“The annoying kid talks about his special interest. The quiet kid doesn’t.”

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yurucamp · 13 days

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You mentioned having a poor Internet connection and being mostly absent in terms of online presence recently. I feel like I have a lot of days where I spend time on my phone or computer that feels empty or like filler, and I'd like to change that, but I'm not sure what I would do instead. I have hobbies and things I'm interested in outside of being online that I already engage with, but those things take a lot more energy and focus than something like scrolling through twitter or typing on discord. I don't know how I could have the energy to add to what I already do during the day.

So it makes me wonder, how do you spend your time during the day without having a proper internet connection, while also living in a foreign country where you presumably don't know many people? I hope this question isn't too invasive, and sorry for being so long winded lol

it's not invasive at all, i'm a loudmouth who's always happy to talk ^_^

i'm worried my schedule will make me look crazy, but... i wake up at 6:45 ish (i don't set an alarm, so it varies), eat breakfast, then walk along the river for about an hour before classes start. i'm in class usually until 3 ish, then i set myself some kind of 'task' for the day (walking to a store or cafe, for example), eat dinner around 6, do homework, then draw, then go to bed at 9:30ish. i try to hit about 15,000 steps or 12 km each day, so i spend a lot of my time walking... i really love walking aimlessly. i love all of the weird and spontaneous things you see walking, the way life kind of happens around you, like a gazillion little vignettes and peeks into strangers' lives.

i think it's possible to get a lot of positive things out of social media usage: i love twitter for the amount of art i'm exposed to through it, and i don't think you should feel guilty for taking time to just let your brain relax with 'filler time', that's what walking is like to me- the equivalent of white noise. at the same time, it's so seductive to think of what we could accomplish if we seized every moment and cut out that in-between!

i don't know if i can say anything helpful or intelligent but thank you for taking the time to write to me and i wish you the best with whatever direction you decide to take...!!

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midnight-mourning · 15 days

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DCA Promptober Day 4: Bells

Content warning: a little spooky/paranoia based, small mentions of injury

Realized I could make the jack o'lantern emoji my dividers so now I have to standardize it across all the promptobers >_< anywho, enjoy!

Word count: 912

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Quiet. It's near silent in the closet. Save for the sound of your own breathing which you're desperately trying to muffle with your hand.

You need to stay calm, you need to focus. Panic will do you nothing in this situation.

Your arm stings from the slash you'd recieved earlier from Monty. Had you known the animatronics were going to go batshit, you probably wouldn't have come in tonight. Or ever again, really.

There's no way to secure the door, not without making excessive noise and you can't afford that. You just have to hope, to pray to whatever god is listening that your silence and the closed door is enough to save you. With your walkie smashed and seemingly only staff bots around for security, you have no means of getting out of here soon.

You don't even know what time it is, not that it matters at this point. You're nowhere close to morning, and even then you don't know if that'd make any difference.

Well, it would for one animatronic.

You can't even remember how it happened. You'd come in to spend the evening with Sun to plan out arts and crafts for the next day. He'd been acting weird these past few weeks, very insistent on no naptime, and because of how upset the topic made him, you relented despite the tired kids you were dealing with.

So, you thought it would be a good idea to try and spend some one on one time together, maybe see if you couldn't get it out of him what was bothering him so bad. When you arrived, he was incredibly, off. Happy to see you yes, but wanted you out of there immediately. You had foolishly refused, wanting to get to the bottom of things like the curious cat that you are.

You'd taken his skittish, almost aggravated, tone for him not wanting to talk about the problem. You now realize it had been fear, instead.

"Sunny, this is ridiculous!" You say, arms crossed at the sign on the big doors in front of you. Which had been put up after he pushed you out of the Daycare moments before.

You can hear him loud and clear over the wall, "Sorry, Sunbeam! Rules are rules!"

"You made the rules! You're actively making them right now!"

No response. Just the quiet sound of bells as-you're assuming-he fidgets on the other side. You sigh.

You put your head to the wood, voice a little softer, "I just wish you would tell me what's going on."

"There's nothing going on, friend! Everything's fine, fine, fine! Really you should just go home, and not worry about aaanything at all!" His laugh is awkward, "Really. I mean it."

Deflecting. He's always deflecting. It, hurts. To say the least.

"You know you can trust me, yeah?" You ask.

More jingling. But that's not really an answer.

"I'm serious, Sun. I just want to help."

You're about to give up and call it a night when you feel the door opening, you step back in time for it to open just a tad.

Sun's rays peek through slightly, along with one of his optics "You want to help? Help me?"

"Of course I do," You smile, "I'd do anything for you, bud."

The door opens a little further, he's still hesistant, however, "I-I, Sunshine I don't know if this is, is something you can help with-"

"I can try," You interject, putting your hand over his which still remains on the door, "I can promise you that much."

Sun's rays spin and then he nods, "Okay, I, I suppose you can come in for a few minutes-"

It's then that the power suddenly cuts inside and out of the daycare, the emergency lights very rapidly becoming your only way to see.

"What's going on-Sun?"

He jumps back from you, looking around wildly before gripping his faceplate, "No, no, no! Not good, not good!"

You reach a hand out, wanting to comfort the poor bot, "Sun-"

He stops his moments long enough to look you in the eyes, and while his face is stuck in that giant grin, you can sense the sterness, the fear, in the singular word he utters.

"Run."

A few reckless and terror-driven decisions later, you wound up hear. You're best guess is that your stuck here for awhile, but semi-safe for time being-

A soft sound down the hall sends your heart to your throat. In any other context, you'd associate it with joy, laughter, days of fun, and even hummed bedtime melodies.

Bells.

With each twinkling noise they get ever closer to your position, and you shrink more and more into yourself.

Clink. Clink.

For some reason, some of your happiest memories start playing before your eyes.

Clink.

You think of Sun, with his goofy demeanor and sweet words that always make you laugh, make you smile. Make you feel so warm.

Clink.

You think of Moon and his bedtime stories, his calming presence, his cheeky laughter that would make your thoughts just a little fuzzy.

Clink.

Right outside the door now. One loud bell jingling as the animatronic surely debates on whether to open the door.

Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink. One way.

Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink. The other.

You're suddenly gripped by the realization that you still have that flashlight you found earlier on you. Your shaking fingers grip for it.

The door starts to open.

You turn on the light.

And brace for the worst.

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Man everybody's got such fun and cute stuff for promptober and I'm out here making this (by choice mind you) shoutout to everyone browsing the tag and getting whiplash from my posts, ur a real one for that

You can find my other promptober posts here if you so choose

Thanks for reading!

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gamerwoo · 1 year

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Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Eighteen)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, fluff, humor, mentions of porn and sex work, hyunjin is stupid in love and also has a thing for tall girls (it doesn't necessarily say reader is taller than him but he does beg her to wear heels so interpret that how you want), hyunjin is very much not straight, lots and lots of flirting and teasing, mentions of kinks and stuff but no smut happens sorry <;3 (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 6,074

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

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He knew you’d have questions. Hyunjin expected nothing less, but you made sure to tell him you were curious but would only ask questions if he was comfortable with it. Considering you found out everything about him when he’d ended things, you never really got a chance to ask him anything. But he was 100% okay with answering any question you had, and he planned on being fully open and honest.

That first night that Hyunjin apologized, he was fully prepared to go home alone, but you told him he could stay. Even if you were mad still, you missed him. And that was where your questioning started.

“So then how did you get into porn?” was your first question, and it was the one he expected to be first.

He had gone to his apartment to change into clothes to sleep in, and the two of you were laying in your bed, inhumanly close. You missed each other and he didn’t know how to tell you that he still didn’t feel close enough even with your entire body on top of his without sounding weird.

“Changbin,” he stated simply.

“So you both got into porn when he said he was gonna do it?” you assumed.

He nodded, “I also really needed money, aaaaand I was basically going nowhere. I really liked art and I wanted to be an artist, but getting into that industry is fucking hard, so I just…went for porn. It was pretty easy for anyone to get into, anyway – at least in that area of Vegas. There were so many sleazeballs looking for amateurs.”

“So how’d it go in the beginning?”

“Honestly, shockingly well,” he scoffed. “I don’t mean to, like, sound like I’m bragging, but I kind of took off almost instantly. Directors and producers and shit were saying I just had the perfect face and a good body, and everyone wanted to have me in their videos. It was actually really overwhelming, but I needed all the money I could get so I just ran with it.”

“That actually sounds kind of terrifying,” you nodded.

“Oh, I think you would’ve gone into shock and died,” he nodded along with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and he just grinned.

“Anyway,” you stated.

“Anyway,” he laughed.

“What about Changbin?”

“He was only a little salty that I was getting more jobs than him, but he worked his way up there. Plus, I paid most of our rent so he couldn’t complain that much.”

You suddenly realized something, letting out a gasp, “Wait, were you the mutual friend that got him and Kit together?”

“Yup.”

“What happened?!” you squealed.

“‘Kay, so as I said, I got popular fast. I caught the attention of bigger producers and directors who worked with bigger names. Big names like…”

“Kat Valentyne,” you finished, saying her name with pizazz and doing spirit fingers to really sell her porn name.

He laughed and rolled his eyes, his laugh making you shake as you laid face-down on top of him, “She’s been a big name almost since she started. Word got out to the people she went to school with that she got hot and was in porn, so it got spread around along with old photos of her, so it kinda made headlines online.

“But anyway, I got cast in a scene opposite her, and I knew–”

“Hang on a minute,” you interrupted him, and that was when he realized what he’d just given away. “So you mean to tell me that you fucked Kit?”

He was quick to point a finger at you and look you dead in the eyes, “I never had feelings for her and I still don’t. Never will.”

“No, Hyunjin–” you sighed and shook your head. “You’re telling me that you were mad that she only flirted with me and looked at me a certain way, but you already had sex with her?! That’s not even fair!”

All he did in response was roll his eyes before continuing, “Anyway, so I knew Changbin had a fat fucking crush on her since forever, so I figured I’d throw his name out there. I showed her a couple photos of him and she thought he was cute aaaaand yeah. Rest is history.”

“I still can’t believe you got mad when you had sex with Kit…” you mumbled.

“Are you even upset that I had sex with her or just that I got jealous over her?”

“I know it was your job,” you scoffed, waving away his concern. “I trust you. I mean, she’s also dating your best friend.”

“I also just don’t want to date her,” he added.

“But how come you get to fuck her, but god forbid she look at me the wrong way?” you huffed.

“I think it’s suddenly bedtime,” he told you before he pulled the covers up over your head, and then rolled over on top of you.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” you squealed between laughs.

“Can’t hear you, goodnight!”

Hyunjin wanted to do the proper thing: take you on a fancy date. And what better way to do that than using your ex-boss’ certificate to go to that fancy restaurant? It seemed like a very fitting way to celebrate the two of you making up.

Unfortunately, the only fancy thing you owned was your old prom dresses, so that meant shopping.

As far as you could tell, Hyunjin would be an expert at fancy. While you mostly ever saw him in t-shirts and sweatshirts – you had still seen him in other clothes like jeans, button-ups, and such – they were always expensive. So he must’ve owned fancy clothing, right? He must’ve known what rich people considered acceptable since clearly the dude was loaded.

You were pretty sure you’d never seen someone look so goddamn good in just some black jeans and a baggy button-up shirt with one half tucked in, but Hyunjin was just another level. You were wondering if he was even human, actually. Maybe he was actually an android or something.

“You’re staring,” he noted as you watched him brush through his dark hair before leaving the apartment.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

He just laughed, eyes turning into crescent moons.

You missed his smile.

While you were browsing through clothes at a store you felt far too out of place in, Hyunjin mentioned, “Pick out whatever you like. I’ll cover it.”

“Um, no?” you turned around to tell him. “You’re already paying for my apartment – which, by the way, still stop.”

“I can afford it, don’t worry about it,” he promised, waving the worry away.

Which then sparked more questions about him.

“Did you just make a ton of money back then?” you wondered.

He shrugged, “More than most. I did save most of it, but– …Actually, we’ll talk more in the car. I gotta take you somewhere for you to get it.”

“Get what?”

“It.”

You made a face at him and rolled your eyes before going back to looking at dresses, “So, uh…what’s considered…fancy?”

“Do you want form fitting or more flowy?” he asked as he started perusing the racks as well.

“Do you also want to pay for my shapewear?” you asked sarcastically.

He shrugged, “If you think you need it, I’ll buy whatever you want.”

You frowned, obviously not happy with his answer. But again, he grinned back at you.

Dress and shoes acquired, you were back in Hyunjin’s car, driving to an unknown location. All he’d said was, “I’m gonna show you something.”

You didn’t plan on getting shoes, but Hyunjin was quick to ask after picking out a dress if you had any shoes for the occasion. You’d said something about wanting to find just a cute pair of flats, but Hyunjin turned to face you with wide eyes.

“Please wear heels,” he begged, clinging onto your arms for dear life.

“I never wear heels,” you told him. “I’ll be too tall.”

“No you won’t,” he stated very seriously. “Wear. Heels.”

You did end up getting a pair of heels that you were totally not persuaded to get due to the fact you were very positive that Hyunjin found it hot when you were taller. As if he wouldn’t have bought them for you anyway because he liked how you looked in them. If the way he eyed you up and down and almost drooled on the marbled floor was any indication.

“Soooo,” Hyunjin began, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, “have you ever noticed anything in my apartment?”

“Are we talking about the mirrors?” you asked.

“You need to get past the mirrors, baby.”

“So that’s a no. What was I supposed to notice?”

He chuckled, “Maybe something on the walls…?”

“Art!” you gasped, recalling the times you’d been over and noticed that large canvases were always evenly spaced across the walls of the hallway, and a few were put in his living room and his kitchen.

He nodded, “Very good. What about the art?”

“It’s…there!” you pointed out, much less enthusiastically. “It’s on the walls!”

Thank god he was stopped at a stop sign because he looked at you with an unamused look for a painfully long time.

“Hyunjin, when have I ever had time to sit in your apartment and look at the art?” you asked him, trying to prove a point. “We were usually in your bedroom, and even when we were on the couch, we were cuddling and watching something or laying down and watching something, or we weren’t even watching anything because we were doing other things!”

He scoffed with a wide smile and asked, “You can’t even say making out? You have to say ‘other things’?”

“What about the art, Hyunjin?” you asked sharply, wanting him to move on from the route he was about to take.

After a bit of laughing, Hyunjin replied, “Most of the art has the same signature.”

“That’s so interesting,” you deadpanned, still not getting it.

You also weren’t paying attention to where he was driving, but he finally pulled into a lot outside of what looked like another apartment building. He put the car in park and pulled out the key before he looked at you again. Again, he was unamused.

He eyed you up and down before noting, “You’ve gotten more sassy, huh?”

“I’m not trying to be, I just don’t understand!”

“Come on, babydoll,” he patted your thigh before he got out of the car. “I’ll show you.”

He took you into the building and into an elevator. You noted that he stuck a silver key from his keyring into a keyhole in the elevator, turned it, and pressed the button for the top floor. You and Hyunjin waited side-by-side at the back of the elevator. He was on his phone while you were watching the numbers on the LED screen above the doors.

“Have you talked to Kit or Changbin?” you asked him.

“They know everything,” he nodded, still not looking up from his phone. He assumed you were asking because you wanted to know if they were caught up. “I told them after you fell asleep last night.”

“After I was suffocated,” you corrected.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he scoffed, finally looking at you to smirk.

“Oh, says you of all people.”

“Touché.”

Finally, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The top floor seemed to be a penthouse, but it was all open space with large windows all on the back wall. The rest of the walls were exposed brick and covered in half-finished and fully-finished paintings. Scattered around the space were easels that either held canvases, white stained drapes, or nothing at all. There were a handful of stools around the area, and lots of art supplies. There were two large desks on either side of the room, with more art supplies and sketchbooks and canvases.

“Since we’re being completely open and honest now,” Hyunjin smiled at you, gesturing with an arm to the space while he guided you in with the other around your waist, “welcome to my studio. This is how I’ve made so much money.”

You looked at him, eyes bugging out of your head, “What, you’re some huge artist?”

He pointed at a painting that seemed to be finished, leaning up against the wall as it stood on the floor.

“There’s the signature. On most of the ones at home.”

You walked over and bent down to get a closer look. It looked mostly like a bunch of scribbles, but you could make out a large S and a large H.

“No offense, but what does it say?” you ask. “There’s no S in your name.”

“Sam Hyun,” he replied. “When I lived in Vegas, I went by Sam Hwang, and my name is Hyunjin. I combined the two.”

You turned around to face him again, head tilting slightly to one side as you studied him, “You actually do look like a Sam…”

He shrugged, “Thanks, I think.”

“It’s a good thing. Sam’s not an ugly name, y’know? You could’ve been something ugly like…Frank. Or you could’ve been a Kyle.”

He gave you a strangle look as he chuckled, “What’s wrong with Kyle? It’s a common name, no?”

“Kyle itself is a red flag,” you stated knowingly.

“Would you still love me if my name was Bartholomew?” he asked suddenly with a giggle.

“Fuck no,” you replied immediately.

“Just take a fucking guess what Changbin almost made his stage name.”

You gasped, “You’re kidding.”

“He’s so fucking lucky we went back to Vegas for our first auditions because he met one of my old buddies names Xavior and thought his name sounded cool, so he used that as his stage name instead. But he was dead set on Batholomew.”

“Why?” you asked with a disgusted face.

“His mind works in mysterious ways,” he shrugged.

“So…Kat Valentyne and Xavior…something?” you asked.

“Xavior Chang,” he scoffed. “He couldn’t come up with a second name but he didn’t want to copy me and use just one – even though I told him I didn’t think he was copying me, but whatever. But honestly, after the movie with him and Kit, she kept slipping up and calling him Binnie so now that’s basically all he’s known as now.”

You nodded slowly as you started to look around the large space. Hyunjin just stood and watched you, hands in his pockets.

“So…how did you come up with Sam Hyun?” you wondered. “Why not just use your name?”

“Because I was in porn and I was afraid of ever being connected back to it,” he explained. “Anyone could google my stage name and find out my real one. With being an artist, I wanted absolutely everything to be separated from what I was doing during the day. Nobody had a face to the art, either. Sam Hyun is untraceable. As far as anyone knows, Sam Hyun is my real name. Separate from Hwang Hyunjin, and therefore, separate from Jin.”

“So…you’re like Banksy.”

“Yeah, like Banksy.”

“So how’d it happen, then? The switch between porn and art?”

“I was doing art at the same time, but more as a hobby. I kind of gave up when it never took off. But one day, out of nowhere, I got really lucky. Something I made got noticed at a show by some big name and they offered a lot more than it should’ve been worth, honestly,” he laughed like he still couldn’t believe it. “That just kinda…put my name on the map, I guess. And once I had that break, I left the industry and focused full-time on this.”

A small smile broke on your face as you looked at him, “That’s kinda sweet. You get to do the thing you actually love.”

He nodded, “I got very lucky. Still am very lucky.” he added the last part with a warm, happy half-smile at you, just looking at you with the most lovesick expression anyone had ever seen.

You started looking around again, wandering between easels and canvases, looking around at everything Hyunjin had made. You never knew he could draw, but fuck, was he talented. It was mostly people and a handful of scenery pieces thrown in there, but everything you saw was so insanely good.

You hadn’t noticed Hyunjin had wandered over behind you as you studied a seemingly random couple he’d drawn, their bodies filled in with a watercolor sunset, until he softly asked, “Do you wanna see something?”

You looked at him to silently say you were paying attention to whatever he wanted to show you, and he guided you over to an easel that was covered by a white drape. It was obvious that there was a large canvas underneath, but you weren’t going to uncover anything that was covered. That would be rude.

Hyunjin reached up to gently pull the sheet off so as to not knock over the painting. Your mouth fell open as your eyes widened in awe, seeing the portrait of you and Hyunjin. It was done in the same exact style as the piece you were just looking at – just the messy-on-purpose black outline from the shoulders up, and being filled in with warm tones that blended together – but this was very clearly supposed to be you and Hyunjin staring deeply at each other. Your lips were only inches apart as one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking at you with his signature smirk, but even in a picture, he was able to capture the way he looked at you like you were the entire universe. And you looked back at him in a way that very much mimicked how you looked at the piece: in pure awe. Your eyes were wide and your lips were parted, your hand holding lightly onto his arm just a couple inches down from his wrist. The colors used to fill in your bodies were similar to the first painting but the reds, yellows, and oranges were put in different spots. It was somehow more pleasing, but maybe you were being biased.

“The one you were just looking at was based off of this,” Hyunjin explained to you softly. “I made this one a while ago, but when things got…really shitty between us, I tried to replicate it to sell it. As you could probably tell, I gave up. Wasn’t as good as the original.”

“Holy shit, Hyunjin,” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off of it.

“If you think this is insane, you should see my most recent sketchbook,” he chuckled. “You’d probably think I’m a psycho.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized what he’d said before, looking back at him, “Were you going to sell this?”

He scoffed, “Absolutely not. I was gonna keep it, but I like the style of it and thought it would sell well. But this is priceless – even if it’s half a self portrait.”

You frowned at him and lightly whacked him in the stomach, making him laugh, “You’re literally a God, you freak.”

“Yeah, well,” he sighed as he draped an arm casually around your shoulder, “you really are your own biggest critic. Drawing myself took the longest fucking time.”

“You definitely look at me like that,” you promised, pointing at him on the portrait. “And I definitely look lost all the time like that.”

“You’re not lost,” he scoffed again, rolling his eyes. “I’m literally right there.”

You started laughing, “That was stupid cheesy.”

“The cheese gets worse, don’t worry,” he promised with a smirk as he started to lead you over to one of the tables. He brought you to a closed sketchbook that looked much less beat-up than the other ones. “This is my newer sketchbook. I got it a little bit before I met you, actually.”

He gently pushed you forward to stand at the table and open it. You flipped it open and started going through it slowly, seeing him use different mediums to make different things. It was mostly people – people you’d never seen before, but a couple that you’d seen at The Brooke. But after about 5 pages, you flipped the next page to see you, holding a moving box. It was a charcoal sketch from your thighs up, and it was only somewhat shaded. But it was very clearly you, laughing as you carried the cardboard box.

The next page was you again, but from the side, and only from your shoulders up. Your expression was neutral and you seemed to be looking at something. The next page was, again, you, smiling with your eyes closed. The next page was you, and the next, and the next, and the next.

“I like to draw people that I see,” he explained. “Clearly, I saw you once and couldn’t get you out of my head. I’ve drawn you a lot since I’ve met you.”

You kept flipping, and every single page was you. But then you got to the last few sketches in the book, and you only looked sad. You looked disheveled or upset. There was even one of you with tears on your cheeks with your eyes casted down.

“I kinda never stopped drawing you,” he admitted quietly. “Even when I was mad at you, I still thought about you all the time.”

There were a couple drawings of you scattered in the sad ones where you looked happy again, and it tugged at your heart. Even when you were both upset, Hyunjin seemed to still think of you when you were happy, like he wanted to see it again.

The last 10 pages or so were still blank, so you closed the sketchbook again and turned to face Hyunjin, cheeks feeling hot from seeing how often he drew you. He could tell you were flustered and grinned widely at you.

“I’m pretty cute, huh?” he asked with a modest shrug.

“How come I never knew you could draw?” you asked him, poking his chest with your finger.

“Changbin and Kit have seen me doodle on stuff here and there, but they don’t know about all this,” he explained. “This is top secret. Nobody knows about it because I don’t want there being any possible ties between Sam Hyun and Jin, y’know? They’re both me, but nobody else knows they are. I want to make sure it stays that way. But since we’re working on honesty, I figured you’d be a good first person to tell.”

You nodded, “I won’t say a word.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” he promised with a mischievous grin before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

You’d never seen Hyunjin dress up before, but boy did he dress up. There was a lot of black, but a lot of chains and silver and mesh. Everything just looked expensive and extravagant, and despite having Hyunjin help you pick out what to wear earlier that day, you somehow felt severely underdressed beside him.

Despite that, the way Hyunjin looked at you made you feel like the best looking person at the restaurant. When you first got dressed and you were doing your makeup in his bathroom, he was sitting on the counter by where your makeup was spread out, going between looking at his phone and glancing up at you with a soft smile.

But when you put on the heels, he was gone. His eyes only left you so he could drive, but he kept stealing glances. He looked at you probably the way you looked at him. Like you were God and had descended down in front of him. You weren’t even sure if you’d make it to the restaurant because you were almost positive there were a couple times he almost passed out.

“You’re oddly quiet now,” Hyunjin mused as he looked over the menu with you – he had to help you with some things because you’d never had a lot of the food they offered. It was all fancy stuff with big words.

You glanced away from the words that didn’t even seem like real words to look at him, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve rambled off so many questions today and now you’re dead silent,” he chuckled. “Feeling okay?”

You felt your cheeks warm a bit as you mumbled, “I’m not gonna ask those questions out in public, Hyunjin.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, “Oh, as if anyone is listening to us. They’re all talking about business and nannies and vacations and shit that’s important to rich people. Dates are meant for talking to get to know each other. You should feel comfortable asking me anything.”

You knew he was right about dates being made for getting to know each other, but you still felt nervous to ask questions about sex and porn where people might hear it. What if some rich person overheard and thought you were weird and got you kicked out?

It took a couple minutes of silent internal encouragement, but you finally asked in almost a whisper, “What…kind did you do…?”

His laugh was louder than your words but nobody seemed to notice, “Both. Gay and straight. Does that bother you?”

You shrugged like he told you it was a little cloudy outside, “Not really. I mean, unless you prefer guys, in which case, that would make me kinda insecure probably.”

“My preference is you, dummy,” he told you with a playful smile.

“I meant…sex-wise,” your voice got quieter on the last word, which made Hyunjin laugh again.

“No preference there.”

“Okay, maybe this is a dumb question–”

“No dumb questions.”

“Sure. How did you, like…not fall in love with every single person? I get it’s mostly acting and stuff but that’s some serious acting. I would be convinced everyone actually loved me and cared about me and would catch feelings everyday.”

“I learned how to separate my feelings from my work,” he explained. “To me, sex was just sex, and my feelings were basically shut off when I was doing it. But that was only when I was working. It’s different with you.”

“We’ve never…done that,” you reminded him.

“I mean with everything else. We’ve done other stuff. Unless you forgot about that when we were mad at each other,” he smirked.

“Trust me, Hyun, I remember,” you promised.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his smirk growing and making you feel things you did not want to feel in the middle of a restaurant full of a bunch of important and rich people. “Because I don’t mind jogging your memory.”

Despite the first conversation at the restaurant, the rest of the date was the most romantic experience you’d ever had. You were starting to learn that despite Hyunjin’s line of work and claiming he could turn off his feelings, he was a true hopeless romantic – not that you didn’t know before, but now it was painfully obvious. He ordered for you, held open doors for you, and asked a lot of questions about you. The two of you had already caught up on new happenings since you last spoke, but now Hyunjin was asking you questions about your future. What field were you going to look for a job in? Have you considered going to school for something? How did you get into nannying in the first place? Did that mean you wanted kids?

You learned more about him, other than just his previous job. You learned more about his friendship with Changbin, his life in Las Vegas, and everything outside and in between. How he got out of the industry and how he found himself living at The Brooke and befriending the two bellhops who worked the night shift. More about his early life pre-porn and even some stories from his life while he was in that industry, but about stuff that was separate from it.

You felt like the whole time, his eyes never left yours. You weren’t even sure if he ever looked down while eating his food to see what he was picking up with his utensils, but his plate was cleared by the end of the date.

To be fair, you weren’t sure of many things because Hyunjin kept refilling your wine glass whenever it was empty. He got some fancy bottle brought to the table in an ice bucket and while it was meant to share, you weren’t sure if he had any of it or if you’d drank the whole thing. You saw him with a glass but then you were too lost in his eyes to notice much else. When his stare got too much and you felt nervous like you had to look away, you looked down at your own food instead of focusing on whatever he was doing.

Back in the car, Hyunjin drove with a hand on your thigh and the other on the wheel. Despite your tipsy state and him teasing you about forgetting the things you’d done together, he was being a complete gentleman. The most he’d done was just then as his warm palm rested on the exposed skin of your leg.

“I have a follow-up question,” you announced suddenly between Hyunjin humming along with the music.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you elaborate on the ‘sex without feelings’ thing?” you asked.

He chuckled and glanced at you, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Just now. Just going over stuff in my head, y’know?”

“How much wine have you had, my love?” he continued to laugh.

“Whatever you didn’t drink, I did,” you stated surely.

After his laughter had died down, though, he replied, “The people I worked with, I never had romantic feelings for. When I was starting out, it happened a couple times until I learned. I had a couple…situationships, I suppose during my time in the industry, and I didn’t try to disassociate from my feelings because obviously they were supposed to be relationships. But with them, it always felt like they were trying so hard to make it like a scene that I just auto-blocked it all out anyway. It kinda sucked.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked over at Hyunjin, “That doesn’t happen now, right?”

“Absolutely not, angel,” he looked back at you with a soft smile before looking back at the road. “With you, everything is so much better than any sex I’ve ever had. Feelings really do make it. I actually get turned on and everything feels more intense. It just feels… I don’t know how to explain it other than everything is better because there’s feelings. I can’t not feel things for you, _____.”

“Awww,” you giggled as your cheeks began to warm. “Shut the fuck up, you’re too cute.”

“Not to say,” he quickly added, “if you did want to do anything a little…raunchier in the future, that I would hate it. I think in that case, it would be okay because the feelings are still there. It was just with those people, they made it seem like they only saw me as Jin and not Hyunjin, if that makes sense.”

You nodded, “No, I get that. That does make me feel better, though."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for another moment until you thought of another question, shyly asking, "So, um…what’re you…into…?”

You could see the smirk growing on his face as the streetlamps flooded through the windshield as he drove, “I’ll do just about anything if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But what are you personally into?” you pressed curiously, though you were sure Hyunjin would be able to tell how flustered you were. “Like, if you didn’t have to worry about your partner.”

“Hair pulling,” was his immediate response. “I love having my hair pulled.”

You eyed his hair as it currently was. He kept it on the long-ish side and it was almost always half-up. Even in the one video of his you saw, his hair was at his shoulders.

“Yeah, that math adds up,” you nodded. “I think you like dirty talking, too.”

He let out a laugh as he glanced between you and the road, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You were smiling, too, because of his laugh as you replied, “You would always talk a lot to me. You’re just really vocal.”

“You react well when I do talk to you,” he pointed out before he leaned over toward you, his lips almost brushing your ear. “You like the dirty talk, _____.”

A shiver went down your spine as he pulled away, and you were pretty sure Hyunjin noticed from the way his smirk widened and his chest quickly rose and fell like he scoffed. But he didn’t say anything about it, and you were too shy to confirm or deny. So he went back to quietly humming along to his music.

Both Felix and Jeongin were behind the counter when you and Hyunjin returned back to The Brooke. When you left that evening, it was only Jeongin who was punching in for work and making a comment about how dolled up the two of you were. When you came strolling into the empty lobby with your hands intertwined, Felix’s jaw was just about on the floor as Jeongin started smirking.

“Nice to see the two of you still look presentable,” the younger boy noted. “I thought for sure Hyunjin was gonna pounce at some point.”

“I don’t blame him,” Felix choked out a laugh as he started to regain his composure. “Either of you. You both look incredible.”

Your face had already been warm from the wine and Hyunjin’s compliments, but Felix made it feel hotter, “Thanks.”

“What’s the occasion?” he wondered.

“Make up date,” Hyunjin stated, stopping at the front desk to chat with them. “We went somewhere nice for free, thanks to _____’s asshole ex-bosses.”

Jeongin nodded, “You love to see it.”

“Now,” Hyunjin released your hand to place his hands on your shoulders, “I need to get this one to bed since she drank almost an entire bottle of wine by herself.”

“You kept pouring!” you insisted.

“But you kept drinking,” he countered with a playful grin.

“You can’t start gaslighting her when you just got back together,” Jeongin told him with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“But it’s official now,” Hyunjin pointed out with a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle.

Felix nodded in understanding, “Oh, then it’s totally okay now.”

“See ya later, guys!” he chirped as he turned you and started leading you toward the elevators.

“Don’t be too loud, please!” Jeongin laughed after the two of you. “I don’t feel like getting a ton of noise complaints tonight!”

That’s where your mind was, actually. Hyunjin had done this big gesture for you. He made an entire day out of it, too. He brought you to his gallery and showed you all of the art he made, and half of it was of you. He brought you shopping and got you expensive clothes and accessories for the fancy date he brought you on. This all must’ve been leading up to him taking your virginity now, right? Hyunjin definitely seemed like the type of person who wanted to make that something big and romantic and special. You half expected to go into his apartment and see rose petals leading to his bed.

Even if it wasn’t that far, he’d probably want to do something, right?

But instead, he stopped with you outside your apartment. You looked up at him in confusion, “Are we staying at my place?”

“You are,” he chuckled.

“What?”

“_____, it’s our first date,” he explained, still laughing softly at your confusion. “I’m doing things traditionally. It seems right. So you sleep here, I sleep over there, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

You pouted but mumbled an, “Okay…”

Did you feel disappointed? Kind of. But did you also feel relieved? A little bit. You were pretty sure you were wearing some ugly cotton thong you’d gotten at the department store, anyway.

Hyunjin kissed your pouting lips, which brought a small smile to your face as he beamed back at you, “Goodnight, _____.”

“Goodnight, Hyunjin,” you replied before turning to unlock your door.

And once you were inside, you had to call your friends to tell them everything.

————✧♡✧————-

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#k-labels #hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids au #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids fic #stray kids series #stray kids x reader #hyunjin au #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin fic #hyunjin x reader

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oldworldghost · 1 year

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How do you think P would react over finding out Reader likes to sing? Is a duet incoming in the walls of Hotel Krat?

P with a lover who's a singer! ☆

↳ Anon this is adorable! I'm tempted to write a fic about something along these lines at a different time, but for now have some hcs :]

➸ Pinocchio finds out you sing on one of his return trips to the hotel. His attention is first grabbed by the sound of the piano, its' notes greeting him upon his entrance, and being the artistically inclined man that P is, he naturally follows it. His attention is secondly grabbed by the faint sound of a voice, half hidden by the keys and only to be properly made out that's yours when he's standing in the doorway of the library. He makes eye contact with Antonia, who sends him a smile before turning back to you, who either hasn't noticed that he's there or simply doesn't care. He supposes it to be the former, too engrossed in what you're doing to pay attention to the outside world.

➸ He, very quickly, ends up the same. Dead glass eyes watch intently as your hands glide over the keys, something akin to life sparking in them as he listens to your voice dance with the music. Pinocchios' initial reaction is that you sound beautiful, look beautiful. Though it would be more accurate, I suppose, to say that he thinks you both look and sound incredibly human. P has never heard anyone sing outside of Vinyls, at least not for long, so being able to not only listen in person but watch as you engage in the act of something as human as music has his gears speeding up. Something in them has changed, he's sure of it.

➸ It should come as no surprise to say that Pinocchio is immensely curious about [and attracted to, in your case] things he perceives as human. This is partially due to the fact that he sees them as a goal, something to work towards and obtain, a barrier to be broken between himself and humanity as a whole. And of course this extends to music and is one of the reasons his vinyl collection is ever growing, why he always finds himself returning to the piano. It is a little hard to tell whether Ps' appreciation of art is something inherent to him or if it merely exists because he thinks it has to. In all honesty it's probably both.

➸ Now, to grow less introspective about it all, Pinocchio also just really loves listening to you sing because it's, well, you. He is undoubtably your number one fan, though he's subtle about it. Gemini is the hype man, much to the embarrassment of P and the amusement of Everyone Else. Honestly it's not even really embarrassment on Ps' part, more of an annoyed "wow I wish you would shut the fuck up!" because Gemini has the talent of being able to bring you into every conversation and you being a singer just adds more fuel to a fire that really does not need it [Pinocchio would one hundred percent do the same though if he was more, you know, talkative].

➸ One of Pinocchios' main love languages is quality time, and honestly you being a singer is perfect for that. Most of his time at the hotel is spent just sitting and listening and watching. Something about your voice makes him feel safe, as weird as that may sound. Maybe it's the affection in it when you sing for him alone, or just how intimate the atmosphere ends up being. He's not even sure if he's capable of feeling comfort, but he wouldn't change whatever's in his chest for the world.

➸ In regards to duets, I think Pinocchio would actually be rather open to the idea. Now, contrary to popular belief he can in fact speak, though he seldom ever does it without prompting. He doesn't really see the point in it if we're being honest, yes speaking is human but his voice is so flat and honestly he just doesn't have a lot to say about things. So it's fairly safe to say P has never sung before, hell he's not even sure if his voicebox can function like that, but nonetheless when you bring up the idea of a duet he's not only willing but somewhat eager about the whole thing. There's really no rhyme or reason for it either, Pinocchio just likes the idea of doing something human with someone who makes it easy to forget he's a puppet.

➸ Now Pinocchios' singing voice is actually rather nice! Though it is, of course, undeniably mechanical. There's something off about it, at times sounding like a crude mimicry of a human, a constant stiffness and roughness to it. It falls into a sort of uncanny valley, however there is also something undeniably endearing about it, something human about how much you can tell he wants to express anything in it. As for sound outside of puppetry, Ps' voice is fairly deep but retains a certain gentleness to it, a smoothness that contradicts the stiffness in a really lovely way. And yes, Pinocchio has a sense of rhythm.

➸ Pinocchio has a strong preference for keeping your duets private. The best way to do that, in his opinion, is when you're both out in the gardens dancing together. Under the stars while everyone else is inside, chest against chest and voices in sync, the gentle twirls and turns as you both slip into your own little world. If you couldn't tell how much he values your duets before, you certainly can now. Kiss him after the song is done, won't you?

#Anyway this post strayed a little from the prompt because I am a chronic yapper I am so sorry #I am also so normal #this is also not as in-depth about the whole humanity and music thing as I would like it to be #but I haven’t finished the game yet so I’m not sure if it has any further relevance later #I still have so many thoughts about it though #This is also probably a little ooc because a] I have not finished the game #as said before #and b] writing is hard </3 #lies of p #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #my writing

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 2 years

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12th house and the inner alchemist

I notice people with this placement become deeply aware of what frequencies they want to be around. Like if you want something that is more 'jolly, fun, and whimsical' you might search for it in your mind , and then you start to find it in your body. It starts with the spirit first, then you go into meditation to connect with this energy through the art of imagination. That 'jolly, fun, whimsical energy' could end up taking you to a cool coffee shop, end up taking you into a colorful shop with weird looking food , or hell may take you to the circus ! because what youre looking for is the feeling/energy not the 'thing' itself.

I love to say 12th housers are like the boy in this book called 'The Alchemist', where he wanted to look for a treasure to make all his dreams come true, ends up going on a long journey before he finally finds the treasure that was in his hometown all along. In the end he realized what he wanted wasnt about the treasure, the treasure was a symbol to what he wanted to do in his reality which he eventually did without the treasure itself. The treasure is the idea of the energy he wanted in his life, not the thing itself.

Because the imagination brings things to us, and all though we aren't able to explain exactly what it is we are looking for, we go into meditative states to jump into this reality (manifestation) and then follow it with our bodies. And one by one, piece by piece, we enter into the worlds of our psyche through the physical reality.

One thing I can say about 12th housers, you have to let go of the IDEA because it is just that, an IDEA. it is useful for when you are looking for the spirit/energy of the thing you are looking for.

Also since I brought up the alchemist. The story was about making a way for yourself no matter what obstacles you go through, no matter if you dont have that 'thing' you need to get there. You create your reality as you go.

the boy had a simple intention to go find this treasure because he believed it would allow him stop talk taking care of sheep (he was a sheep boy), he could travel all around the world, find a wife, and live the life of his dreams. He evidently did all of that without the treasure! He made a way without even thinking of it, because he knew since he had left his hometown and the sheep there was no other choice but to make something happen!

I believe 12th housers have that inner alchemist inside them, which is why they are so good at painting, drawing, and whatever other art you can name cause its a lot (lol).

12th housers are great at using these things to attract what they want in their life, they follow the frequency/energy knowingly and unknowingly. I call them he universes messengers because they rely messages to the collective without having to explain to us whats the message.

I notice 12th house individuals show this with their music. like I said with frequency a lot of them know the type of energy they wish to convey in their songs because thats the vibe they want to keep with them as they journey through life.

think of sza, a fellow 12th houser with 4 planets (venus,uranus, saturn, and neptune) and she is known to connect to a certain frequency that sounds like 'fairies, sirens, and anything magical' (im honestly referring to ctrl and her older works from 2013/14)

It can also be a 'curse' one type sza tweeted how singing 'supermodel' off her ctrl album 'summoned' the guy she was talking about in the song.

12th house rules over the subconscious, so sometimes your art can attract what you dont want to you. you have to move around it, learn how to use it as a repellant as it can attract fleas (I say this about pisces/neptune peeps a lot, y'all do tend to attract flies).

using your mind to control your reality can be mastered if you continue to heal the shadow. your shadow is just what you've been accustomed to believe that it is shameful, and cant be seen in the light.

the shadow is who you are, dont be ashamed and run from it.

blessings to all my 12th house individuals you guys have a wonderful gift inside that interesting brain of yours! keep it up.

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lifeofkaze · 3 months

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Swept Away

A/N: This story was written as part of the @hphm-ship-week event. For Day 1, I picked the prompt 'Dance'. If this story feels weirdly familiar to you, it's because you've read it before from Lizzie's perspective, as to be perused in my story An Art of Balance here. (Also, if you want context lol.) Thanks for sticking with my rambling. Enjoy!

The crowd occupying the main room of The Three Broomsticks had become dense, and so it was only one moment after Penny Haywood had whisked away Lizzie that Orion lost sight of the two girls. He stared at the spot where they had disappeared, running over the conversation he’d just had with Lizzie - if one could even call it that - in his mind. He pulled a face.

I’m good at catching things.

What a stupid thing to say.

There was no triviality in the makings of the universe, every moment in it filled with sense that sometimes simply failed to show its meaning. Beyond self-consciousness, detached from any prejudice or assumption on how one wished to be perceived, lay the true freedom of being as one with the universe as he could possibly hope to be. And yet Orion was bewildered at how embarrassed his silly comment made him feel. It had not been a singular incident either; lately, he’d found himself saying a lot of stupid things when Lizzie was around. Whenever she was near, it was like he spoke without control.

He was broken from his thoughts by a group of students passing him by. He took a step backwards, the top of the counter hitting his back. The Weird Sisters were enticing so many people to flock to the dancefloor that even on the side of it, Orion was barely able to move. The crowd made him uncomfortable, and despite the people having a good time, he felt strangely isolated without a soul to talk to.

The group right in front of him moved, granting him a small glimpse of the dancefloor. Penny Haywood’s hair shone like a golden halo as she spun around her axis, a wide smile plastered to her face. Lizzie seemed to enjoy herself as well, jumping to the beat and singing along. The sight of her joy made the corners of Orion’s lips curl into a smile. For a fleeting moment, he considered joining her and Penny but abandoned the idea as quickly as it had arisen. Lizzie was like a butterfly on a blooming meadow, fluttering from flower to flower and spreading the beauty of her company. She could come to find him in her own time. And if she didn’t, who was he to demand her attention?

The music came to an end and the room before the makeshift stage cleared, allowing space for the couples Myron Wagtail was inviting to the dancefloor. Lizzie and Penny parted ways, and Orion’s heart lifted when Lizzie headed in his direction. She had already come halfway when, suddenly, she froze. Her head had turned to the side and, following her eyes, Orion saw why. Jason Everett - the new Beater of their Quidditch team - came pushing through the crowd towards her.

Frowning, Orion watched him approach. His friend Murphy McNully had pointed out how Everett kept singling out Lizzie from her friends, and ever since, Orion had been unable to unsee it. Wherever she went, Everett was quick to follow; whenever there was a chance to catch her alone, he was sure to try and grab it.

He had almost reached Lizzie when she shook from her daze. Her eyes set on Orion, and with a couple of quick steps, she was by his side. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him towards the dancefloor. Equally as stunned as he was pleased, Orion followed without offering resistance. Still, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Shamelessly using my knight in shining armour a second time, I’d say.”

As Lizzie’s eyes switched from the spot Everett had stood in to Orion she tailed off, appearing as if she was unsure what to do next. Almost shyly, she glanced at the couples surrounding them. It was an emotion so uncharacteristic of her bright spirit that Orion extended his hand to her.

“If you dragged me here for whatever reason we could as well go with the flow.”

Lizzie blinked, staring at his hand before tentatively taking it. Their first moments dancing were awkward, both unattuned to the other’s rhythm. They had spent years together on the Quidditch pitch, however, and soon found their common ground. Once they had done so they moved effortlessly, lifted by the notes drifting from stage and the silent understanding between them.

Orion’s hand was resting just beneath the small of her waist and he could feel her moving against his palm, her hand warm and relaxed in his. Her other hand was lying on his shoulder, and Orion was aware of every inch it moved about, of every time she let go to spin around. A tingling sensation spread from where she touched him in a most unsettling way, making him both want to be closer and step away to regain control. She stepped into him and rose to her tiptoes to say something he could barely make out over the noise. When her breath brushed over his cheek, he swore he could feel his heart skip a beat.

Lizzie had begun to relax, her initial shyness as if eradicated. She laughed as she finished turning, stepping even closer to him than before. Unbidden, Orion’s mouth pulled into a smile that mirrored hers. Her good mood was compelling, impossible to resist, and found himself wanting more of it, wanting…

Something shifted as their eyes met. They did not stop moving and yet it felt like they were separated from the crowd, suspended in a moment so intense it was almost tangible. The music ceased to reach Orion’s ear, the only sound filling his head his rapidly beating heart. The moment could have lasted hours or less than a second; Orion didn’t know. Then Lizzie blinked, and he exhaled slowly as she dropped her eyes from his. She laughed nervously and let go of him to push away the hair that had fallen into her face. When she put her hand back into his, Orion didn’t fail to notice how she hesitated, even if only slightly.

They took up dancing again, more quietly than before. After a couple of steps, the strand of hair Lizzie had just tucked away fell back into its former place and she put it away again. Having done so a couple of times, she pulled a face and tossed her head but still her hair obscured her eyes.

When it fell across her features next, Orion raised his hand without thinking, gently taking hold of the curl and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers brushed the side of her temple as he did so and Lizzie became still, eyes flying to meet his. Orion didn’t think he’d ever noticed just how blue and clear they were, like the ocean pervaded by sunlight. There was a ring of deeper blue around her pupils, something he had never noticed before either. He wondered if her eyes were just like her, clear and bright to those who looked at the surface but with so much more underneath; things yet uncovered, things unknown to anyone who didn’t bother looking. He longed to know these things, he realised.

“I’m surprised you wear your hair like that,” he murmured, as much to put Lizzie at ease as himself. Like before, he winced at how ridiculous he sounded. “I thought you hated having it in your face.”

“It wasn’t exactly my choice. Andre forced this mess on me.” “You should not let others dictate your appearance, especially if you don’t feel like yourself,” Orion frowned. Before he could stop himself, he added, “But for what it’s worth, I think you look beautiful.”

Lizzie blushed. Her cheeks burned such a vivid red that it was visible even over the dimmed lights. She dropped her eyes and bit her lip, and said no more. Again, Orion cursed himself for his unusual rashness. His mouth might have broken free from the control of his mind, and yet the intentions of both had been to put Lizzie at ease, not make her more uncomfortable. It made him miserable seeing her self-conscious like this, so entirely unlike the naturalness of spirit she usually commanded. He wished he had held his tongue.

They were released from the awkwardness of the situation by the song's coming to an end. Afraid Lizzie would drop his hand, Orion let go first, inclining his head with what was supposed to be an encouraging smile. He hoped Lizzie would read in what he wanted it to convey - that he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable on his behalf. That first and foremost, he was her friend and this had been nothing but - a moment between friends. A fun, beautiful, intoxicating moment that gave the spot on his shoulder where her hand had lain gravitas, and that still made his palm tingle where it had rested against her waist and…

Consciously pulling his thoughts away from the undue direction they were headed in, Orion gave Lizzie an almost imperceptible bow and turned, fleeing from the dancefloor and the crowd still pressing in on him as fast as he could without running.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #quidditch #hphmshipweek24 #lizzie jameson #art of balance #aob #is back it seems #orion's version

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kaihuntrr · 9 months

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part nine: your highness.

I mean. I did say it was a big update, yeah? I've been waiting for so long to post this chapter, you will not believe how long I've been wanting to talk about it!

Alternate versions of the art under the cut + the actual chapter mwam

It was one thing to fight a beast.

It was another to chase it.

The ship surged through the waves, engines churning to keep up with the pace of the fleeing scuttler. The monster’s blood tainted the blue seas with its red pigment, creating a trail all the way to itself as it swam. It wouldn’t be too much longer until it would collapse from exhaustion. Martyn looked on, still chilled from the water and the breeze, but his excitement kept him warm.

Still, it was strange.

In all his time hunting beasts, Martyn never understood the ones that fled. This one was incredibly peculiar since it rammed into the ship and left without actually trying to strike any of them. This might be more of the weird behavior that Mumbo had mentioned before; they were getting closer to the world border after all. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume this was because of the world border.

This was a chance to look into the beasts’ behavior here, but Martyn wanted to see something else: if there truly was a sea prince near the border.

Supposedly, people got swarmed by monsters before even reaching the border. But they had only been greeted by scuttlers, in a class far smaller and weaker compared to the boneback the Canaries had killed just a few days ago, that was strange enough. Why were people dying here, if there was nothing too significant to claim their lives?

It had to be a sea prince. He just knew it. There were no survivors, no floating bodies, just vast open waters with a chill breeze, exactly as the other parts of the ocean. But it was silent. Far too silent.

“Up ahead! There’s a shipwreck!” Bdubs’ shout alerted the hunters as he pointed forward.

Pieces of debris were scattered along the waters, metal and cloth drifting aimlessly. Martyn took a closer look and gasped.

There were people.

Martyn looked at the others, “Gods– we have to save them! Can the harpoons reach the beast?!” They had to save them. He couldn’t just sit back and watch people get slaughtered. If the scuttler came for them now, those survivors were going to die. They couldn’t handle another attack, but the ship could. They had to get on.

It looked like the scuttler was beginning to slow down, but he needed it dead now.

“We just need to get a little closer–,” Joel hefted his harpoon over his shoulder and prepared to throw it, but his balance was thrown off as the ship jerked to the side.

A shrill cry reverberated through the air. Another beast. Another scuttler. If scuttlers came in groups, maybe the beast Martyn had killed was a part of its little group. Maybe it was sad. Martyn’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. No, it was probably only angry. Beasts feel nothing more than hunger and wrath. Nothing more.

The bleeding beast stopped and turned back to roar at them. It was ear-piercing and horrid, blood spewing out of the scuttler’s throat before it dove down below the waves. It was quiet once more.

An uneasy, fragile silence, but it was silence nonetheless.

“Let’s… Let's get closer to the survivors. Quickly.” Grian’s voice was shaky as he looked towards the survivors of the wreckages. He felt Joel give him a little nudge, but Grian continued to stare. It wasn’t normal for him to be in this wrecked state. Joel sighed. He hated to see his brother in such a state.

Joel gave his harpoon to Bdubs, who looked all too eager to take it from his captain’s hands, and walked to Lizzie, glancing between her and Grian. “Do you want to stay downstairs for a while? I can handle steering.” Joel held Lizzie’s hand as she nodded, “Let’s head down, then.” He and Lizzie passed Martyn by and Joel gave him a small smile before disappearing below deck.

Martyn hoped Lizzie was okay.

The ship moved slower, carefully passing through the water and stopping before a pile of floating wood and a group of people bundled up together. Martyn could see the broken wooden boards and dented metal, sails shredded and scattered across the water. The survivors all sat on a floating piece of debris together, far bigger than the other broken pieces. It was like something shielded them from the disaster.

Scar lowered the rope ladder to the survivors with a smile, “Come on, we’ll get you to safety!”

None of the survivors went up immediately. Martyn raised an eyebrow as one of the survivors squinted at him.

The survivor wore a black coat with gold linings, split red and black hair, an eyepatch, and multiple accessories. “You… you’re the king’s hunters, aren’t you?”

Martyn nodded. “We are. Why are you asking?” He tilted his head, noticing the weird looks the survivors were giving him. Was there something he said? He wouldn’t want to lie. He wouldn’t want to say more words than needed, either. They needed to get on board.

“Tch. Spoiled brats. As if we’ll accept help from you!” Another survivor spoke up, crossing his arms. He wore an open purple vest, sash, and pants with dusty-rose hair in twin braids. He looked away from the Canaries to stare at his reflection in the water instead.

What?

Martyn looked at the others, as if questioning if he heard them right. They were out on open waters. If Martyn had just lost his ship and survived a monster attack, he would’ve accepted any help he could get, so why wouldn’t they?

He shivered at the thought of surviving a monster attack. There was no way he was going to lose the Canaries– they were the best at hunting, no beast could tear them down. Not even a sea prince. He knew they would be fine. He wouldn’t be a survivor. He was a hunter.

Cleo placed their hand on Martyn’s shoulder and smiled softly before turning to the survivors, “It’s dangerous to be here. The scuttlers may have left for now, but that doesn’t mean they won’t come back,” they motioned to the rope ladder. “Just get on.”

“If it’s so dangerous, then why are you here?”

“We don’t have time to talk about it here,” Cleo shook their head, “Come on.”

Never in Martyn’s life did he experience such a stubborn group of people. What were the Canaries supposed to do if they continued to refuse? Leave them to die? That was plain wrong.

A dark thought loomed in his mind. If they refused to come aboard, maybe they could just be bait for the sea prince. Martyn shook his head. Nope. Bad idea. Not good. Do not think of them like that.

The raven haired survivor turned to the others, “It’s safer to be on a ship than it is on these planks,” she began to climb the ladder. She wore a black hat, dress, and boots with white pants and pink vest. “Drop your disdain for a while. It’s better to come back alive than dead.”

At least one of them made sense.

As she climbed up, Martyn watched as the other survivors reluctantly followed her on board. The raven haired survivor sighed the moment she stepped on board, but gave the Canaries a smile.

“I apologize on their behalf, though I’m not a part of their crew,” the survivor looked at Martyn, her head tilted, “You’re the king’s hunters?”

Scar spoke faster than Martyn did. “That’s right!” He puffed out his chest, “We’re the Canaries; we’re on an important mission!”

The survivor laughed. “Ah, that sounds like fun. I hope this isn’t too much of a detour, but they’re a bit injured,” she motioned to the others, “Do you think you could pause your mission so they could return to shore to recover?”

Martyn took a closer look at them. The bruises and some bandaged wounds made it look like they had been in a fight with each other rather than a monster.

Who let these lunatics out to sea?

Another survivor walked up to the first, her hair was a fluffy white and brown split with shades that covered her eyes, a fairly fancy cravat with a red sash and brown pants with a black coat and hat with gold lining, “We’re just fine, Katherine,” she crossed her arms, “It’d be better if we were on our own ship though.”

Katherine shook her head. “That’s not true. Just trust me on–”

A scuttler’s roar interrupted her. Their ship jerked and began to rock from side to side as something suddenly jostled the side of it. It had come back from the depths, but at least the survivors were on the ship.

“Oh by the gods–,” Grian groaned. He looked at Katherine and the other survivors, “You should lead the others downstairs, it’s safer there.”

Katherine nodded. She proceeded downstairs and shook her head at the crew of survivors, “No time for arguing, let’s go.”

As Katherine and the other survivors headed downstairs, Joel emerged and quickly ran up to meet with the Canaries. “It’s back?!”

The beast growled, circling around the ship and snapping its jaws.

Mumbo walked up to the others, placing the telescope back in his bag, “Just the one, it seems,” he shrugged. “No idea where the bleeding one went.”

“It’s one less problem to deal with,” Joel shook his head dismissively. He raised his voice to grab everyone’s attention, “Let’s just do what we did earlier! Harpoons, everyone!”

The scuttler suddenly charged forward, ramming itself against the ship’s walls. The sound of something cracking reverberated through the air.

“Cleo, Bdubs, with me!” Joel waved to the two of them, all three quickly mounted the harpoon guns along the edge of the ship. They fired at the beast just as it crashed against the walls of the ship once more, making it start to rock wildly again.

The loaded harpoons were attached to thick rope anchored to metal parts of the ship, they latched on to the beast as it dove and thrashed underneath the ship. Blood poured out of the cracks in the scuttler’s armor, staining the water. The monster writhed in pain, but it persisted, attacking the ship again.

“Why didn’t we use these earlier!?” Bdubs complained as he held the harpoon gun steady and turned his head towards Grian. “This is so much easier than chucking them!”

“It’s hard to use the harpoon gun if the beast is biting the ship!” Grian shouted back. He turned and yelled across the ship, “Scar! Martyn! Catch it on the port side! We’ll let it struggle to death under the ship!” Martyn and Scar nodded and ran to the left. They leaned over the rail, holding their hand held harpoons steady, then threw them down in tandem as the beast emerged from the underside of the ship.

The scuttler shrieked in surprise from the harpoons suddenly piercing into its exoskeleton. Grian turned to Mumbo and Joel, “Mumbo, you and I can take straight shots at the beast, Joel, handle the steering,” he gave the two a smile. “Let’s take it down.”

Cleo, Bdubs, Scar, and Martyn secured their guns as the beast continued to toss and turn under the ship. Any slip ups and the weapons would fall off the ship. Such was the risk of trying to wear it down, but Martyn didn’t mind it. Any method to kill the beasts was a good one.

The scuttler suddenly surged forwards, dragging the ship behind it. Its blood spread across the water as it started to swim in a circle. The waters became faster and rougher as the beast swam in loops, a whirlpool began to form.

A whirlpool.

“It's trying to drag us down!” Grian’s eyes widened as he lurched forward, grabbing onto the rail to call to the crew. “Cut the ropes!”

If the scuttler was dragging them around, there was only one place for it to be. It had to be in front of them. It was the perfect moment to take the kill as soon as possible. Martyn had to act.

“Wait!” Martyn’s sudden shout caused the others to pause and look at him. “Don’t cut them- I have an idea!” He picked up the spare handheld harpoon at his side and ran forward to Grian and Joel.

“Wh- Martyn–!” Joel quickly ran to Martyn’s harpoon gun and steadied it, the wood beginning to chip under the force of the beast.

Grian looked at Joel and Martyn with his eyes wide. Martyn hefted his harpoon and used it to motion towards the beast, “If it’s bringing us down, I can jump off and stab it.”

“No- that’s a bad idea,” Grian shook his head. “We have other ways–”

“It’s quicker and more effective,” Martyn gripped his harpoon. Water splashed over the edge of the deck as the beast growled. Martyn glanced back at the others, then back to Grian, “There are survivors on this ship and I did not expect a scuttler to be so much trouble for us.”

Grian shook his head again. “D0n’t do it.”

“Let me.”

“You are not jumping off this ship, Martyn,” Grian growled. It wasn’t normal to see Grian like this. This… angered state. He glared daggers into Martyn’s eyes, surprising Martyn as he swiftly took the harpoon and clenched it in his hands. “That is an order from your captain.”

Martyn narrowed his eyes. There was no use for titles here. It certainly wouldn’t stop Martyn. “If I don’t kill it now, it’ll capsize the entire ship!” he hissed, a sudden surge of water crashing into the side of the ship as if agreeing with his statement. He took a quick glance at his crewmates, holding on to the sides and mast for dear life. “We’ll all die!”

Martyn attempted to reach for the harpoon, but Grian pushed him away. “There should be a better way to kill it–” Grian raised his voice. He gripped his hair and hissed as the scuttler roared. Even under the watery depths, it could be heard from the chaos surrounding them. “I just need some time to think!”

“There’s no time!” Martyn screamed. He was sure he and Grian were being overheard. He placed a hand to his chest, practically begging at this point. “I’ll be fine, let me do this!”

“Martyn,” Grian grit his teeth. He took in a sharp breath, trying to steady his hastened heartbeat, “I’m not–”

“I don’t see why we’re arguing over this–” Martyn leaned closer to Grian and snatched the harpoon from his hands in a quick and forceful manner. He could see Grian’s distraught look as Martyn tried to figure out what was going on.

“Because I can’t lose you again, Jimmy!” Grian stomped his foot on the ground, tears welled up in his eyes before he covered his mouth. For a moment, Grian forgot where he was. The blonde in front of him was unrecognizable as his heartbeat quickened and his hands gripped his face tighter.

Jimmy.

Martyn’s world fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to react.

“I’m not going to die like him, I promise.” Martyn smiled, leaping on the bowsprit extending beyond the figurehead of the ship, holding his harpoon above his head.

“Martyn, wait–!”

Martyn held his breath as he jumped into the water. A sudden rush of cold swallowed his entire body as water flooded his senses. It was a shivering, bone-chilling cold. Martyn quickly remembered how much panic flowed into his body when the cold shock hit. It was a bad decision, but a decision he knew he had to make. It was for the greater good.

The scuttler groaned as it trashed around, the harpoons stuck into its exoskeleton made it hard for the beast to move but it still looked eager to sink the ship. The rush of the whirlpool pushed him along as one of the scuttler’s beady black eyes turned towards him and it began to slow down.

It saw him. Good.

The scuttler twisted and turned within the lines of thick rope trailing from the ends of the harpoons, its energy waning as it struggled to snap its jaws at Martyn. Martyn just needed to swim closer, aim for its soft spot, and swim up after. It shouldn’t be a problem. Martyn focused on the beast, drowning out the sounds of roaring tides and the creaks and groans of the ship as he swam down, forcing his way through the rippling whirlpool to get closer to his kill. His hunt.

Martyn gripped his harpoon tight as he swam closer, the beast shifted and turned to its side, leaving itself exposed. That was his chance! He propelled himself forward, preparing to strike as the scuttler bellowed in pain as the ropes continued to tire and choke it out. He was close. It could have been the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but Martyn thought he could hear the beast’s rapid heartbeat sync with his own.

Goodnight, monster.

Martyn grabbed an edge of the scuttler’s shell and used all of his energy to plunge his harpoon into the beast. He felt the harpoon’s sharp edge stab right through the beast’s soft flesh as blood mixed with salty sea water.

With one loud screech, the scuttler burst out of the water and knocked against the ship in its frenzy to escape the ropes and harpoons that dug into its back and chest. Martyn gasped for air as he held on to the beast for dear life, digging the harpoon deeper and deeper into its chest as more blood spilled out of it. It dove back down into the water again, bashing its cracked exoskeleton against the ship’s metal side as it let out a deafening roar. Martyn held onto the harpoon as the water closed over his head again and the beast forcefully drug him down into the depths.

The scuttler thrashed against the harpoon, clinging to its final moments of life as it struggled and flailed and tried to hit him. Martyn twisted the harpoon, causing the spearhead embedded in its skin to tear the wound further and further open as blood rushed out of the bleeding beast. His heart pounded against his chest, full of fury and manic adrenaline. It was over. His eyes stung at the salty sea water. Martyn shut his eyes and kicked himself away from the beast as it sank deeper into the depths. He got to live another day at least.

Martyn took in a deep breath as his head breached the surface. He looked up to see the ship, while in need of repairs, was still in one piece, and so was his crew. “See, Grian?” he shouted as a laugh escaped him. Grian leaned against the railing and sighed, cracking a weary smile. Martyn smiled, “Everything is just–”

The world suddenly turned dark as rope wrapped around his ankle and dragged him under.

The forceful and sudden drag to the bottom shocked Martyn to his core, paralyzing him as his world got darker and darker.

Martyn could barely see the glimmer of light from the surface as he writhed in the watery depths. This monster brought him down with it, like some sick karmic justice.

This was it, then.

Martyn shut his eyes, the beating of his heart slowed as darkness began to swallow him up. Hunters were meant to die a glorious death, but this death was preventable. Grian was right. This was reckless. Stupid. Nothing but his own hubris brought this upon him, and this monster wasn’t even one of the more dangerous ones.

He was only surrounded by the haunting abyss, and his own thoughts.

How were the Canaries going to fare without him? How would Grian react, knowing he was right? Grian shouldn’t blame himself. This was Martyn’s own doing. His own fault. The cold grip of the ocean was suffocating. Was this how Ren felt? Alone in the cold? So far from his crew, from his life, from everything? Martyn couldn’t bear imagining it.

He couldn’t imagine how Scott was going to react.

Scott told him multiple times how much this was a bad idea. He should have listened- he should have stayed.

I’m sorry, Grian.

Thump.

I’m sorry, Ren.

Thump.

I’m sorry, Scott.

Thump.

Martyn could’ve sworn it was his own heartbeat resounding in his ears. Maybe it was a push for him to stay alive, to keep his life from slipping away from his grasp but–

CRUNCH.

Thump.

The sound reverberated in the mass empty void.

That wasn’t his heartbeat.

Martyn opened his eyes. He saw light. A blurry, faint light.

His blood ran cold.

What was he looking at?!

Its eyes were a piercing orange and blue, unlike the black beady eyes of any ordinary beast. It had massive red fins. Something that looked like coral was growing out of its head, adorning like a crown.

Two details were brought to his attention almost immediately at that moment:

It was the largest thing he’s ever seen.

It looked human.

From the face to the shoulders, it– he? Martyn wasn’t sure– had a human body. Its hair was long and teal, faint tips of orange as it floated aimlessly in the abyss. Martyn could be tricked that this was a human, if not for the strange markings, hair, and everything else that made it look… monstrous. How did a beast look so… human?

A crown made of coral. The creature’s large size. A beast he’s never seen before. It looked nothing like any beast Martyn had fought before.

Thump.

A thundering heartbeat.

It’s–

The beast tilted its head and narrowed its eyes. The low growl that reverberated through the water was enough to make Martyn shiver.

It’s a sea prince.

Its hair whipped around its head as it inched closer and closer to Martyn.

It swallowed, Martyn’s eyes darted from the sea prince’s piercing eyes to the small lump that travelled down its throat. Its eyes widened, the faint light burned into Martyn as it seemingly froze in place. Time stopped at that moment, those wide eyes stuck out to Martyn as it illuminated the dark ocean. It looked… shocked? No. Monsters don’t feel. They shouldn’t feel.

It barely opened its mouth but the sound echoed through Martyn’s ears as it growled. The sea prince lowered itself into the gloom of deep water, then turned around and disappeared into the darkness. The last thing Martyn saw before it faded into the gloom was its long tail swishing behind it, nearly hitting him as the sudden motion lurched Martyn’s body up towards the surface instead.

He couldn’t bring his head above water. The rushing, agonizing sound of the ocean flowed out of his ears as he was dragged onto the deck by several sets of hands. He was placed on the wooden floor with a soft thud.

Clear blue skies. Clouds of lazy white and gray. Passive sounds of birds.

No heartbeat.

He stared at the sky as he heard the distant shouts from his crew. He could feel their eyes on him, but Martyn couldn’t turn his head. He couldn’t blink. He couldn’t say a word.

“Martyn– Martyn, are you okay?” Grian crouched down beside him. “What happened?”

“Of course he’s not okay– he nearly drowned!” Cleo snapped. They let out a disgruntled sigh and shook their head before kneeling beside Martyn. They placed a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid and unsteady heartbeat of their friend. “Focus on your breathing, Martyn. Deep breaths.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Martyn’s eyes remained glued to the sky. “I saw…,” his voice was quiet, prompting Grian to lean closer to Martyn. Martyn took deep, ragged breaths as his eyes glazed over the sky. “I saw…”

Martyn pictured the sea prince’s eyes locked onto him. The unnatural, piercing, yet alluring eyes staring out of the darkness. The crown of corals it wore on its head looked as elegant as they were deadly, viciously sharp points that could pierce the hull of any hunter ship. Its fangs were... haunting, even just a glimpse of it made his skin pale. Something was pulling him deeper into the tides, deeper into the abyss.

It was something terrifying.

Something terrifyingly beautiful.

Martyn took one last breath before his eyes rolled up into his head and he succumbed to exhaustion. His mind faded to darkness, yet those haunting eyes felt like the last thing he saw.

#the sea prince au #sea prince chapters #limited life smp #limited life #life series #life smp #trafficblr #majorwood #mean gills #coral kids #scottyn #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #tsp coverart #tsp act one

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guerriya-ghost · 1 month

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Can't believe 911 ABC is what finally got me to post on here, but whatever ... also working on my mental health BUT WHATEVER

I love how 911 plays with ghosts and spirits and superstitions, I think it's fun! Especially being someone who is pretty spiritual.

I also think it's really funny how much Eddie just doesn't believe in it. Being Mexican myself it seeps into your daily life without even knowing ya know. Someone in your family either visits or is a curandera, sobadora, psychic (to a certain extent)

I digress. I just wanted to get a fic idea out there! That maybe I'll write maybe I won't 🤷🏻

It starts off as normal day, ya know. They get a call that doesn't seem as crazy as it turns out it will become. A small fire in a design firm. They were testing out some oil paints for a specific brand. They didn't clean/dispose of the rags correctly they ignight. Things get pretty big bc the paint is also there and other art supplies that are flammable (as many thinning agents that are used for oils are), but almost everyone is accounted for in the evacuation and they're doing the final rounds looking for people as they're slowly controlling the fire.

Buck, bc it's usually Buck, finds the last person they're looking for, and the person runs towards him, and he runs to them as the room is half engulfed in flames. And in true 911 fashion, something explodes, things collapse and Buck as much as he tries to shield the person, the person under him still gets gravely injured and it's gonna take a while before they get dug out.

They talk for a bit, they do that half-hearted laugh where anyone who's been in a shit situation does, and the person is slowly slowing down. For whatever it's worth, in a different life, they could've been friends. The person tells Buck this much, you can hear Buck crumble.

They've been face to face this whole time, Buck isn't holding the debri up, but there isn't much room to move off anyway. The person has a nice smile and below the smell of soot and fire they smell like clean linens and fresh air.

It's not looking good.

The person breaks, confesses that they're scared and everything hurts and they don't straight bawl but they are crying. They also apologize to Buck they hope they don't haunt him. They tell him thank you, for talking with them, for being so kind and calm, for holding onto hope that the person never had to begin with, it made the waiting bareable. They say to Buck that they hope he doesn't feel guilt, that it's ok even if they are scared and want to live bc he made this all bearable.

They ask if he could hug them, that they always looked for someone to hug them when they were scared. And Buck does obviously. He's careful and gentle but he allows him self to lean on the person, he feels them go slack. He's crying.

They dont die but they fall into a coma. And you get to see the ghost of the person follow Buck and his team around.they realize they can manipulate little things, let themselves be known.

And Buck does notice and he's like wtf ... WTF.... he tells Eddie. Eddie laughs him off but the rest of the crew play along bc if anything Hen and Chim can fuck with him. That is until Jee start talking about imaginary friends and Hen keeps losing thing only for them to reappear Ina random place, completely impossible.

So they accept the ghost, except Eddie, weird things are happening to him but he ignores them. Everyone talks and hangs out with the ghost they have fun and play pranks and yadda yadda. Eddie lives in denial for a bit.

And then they get another call. And then it's Eddie that goes down. And then it's Eddie's heart that stops. And then it's Eddie looking down at his body and the ghost is next to him and ... hey he recognizes them. And they're like yeah, I've just been keeping an eye on Buck, and the rest of my family. Somethings been telling me to wait, idk for what but I know realize that it was for you. Eddie is sure he's crazy now, bc how and what??

They laugh bc there are no thoughts, only truth in the space they currently inhabit. It isn't your time yet, they say. They grab Eddie's hand and lead him back to his body. He's crashing, and then he panics and asks how to go back, and the person responds that it has to be the right time. That the physical body and spiritual body need to balance. That the drugs and life-saving actions need to take effect, and he needs to feel the tug back. Eddie is guided back into his body but before he goes the person hugs him hard and says give Buck one of these for me.

Some other stuff happens, the person returns to their body too and eventually goes to visit both Buck and Eddie. They both remember what happen, and the person remembers all their pranks too. The team is floored and so is the person but maybe the 118 make a new friend and maybe they all believe in something deeper too.

#911 abc #911 show #fanfic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck #idea #writing

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daisy-daze17 · 3 months

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Omori Manga Thoughts cause it was uhhh

OK so like. The thing is I only got into the omori fandom in February of this year so take my opinion with a grain of salt.

1. I'm mostly a fan of the art style-- a lot of people said that Sunny always seems to have a panicked expression so it's hard to read into him, plus the characters look a lot younger than they're supposed to (Which I find odd). But other than that, I think it does a really good job representing the scarier parts with very abstract drawings of Mari/Something. They coloured it well and thank god did Kel's skintone right. There is one particular panel that I especially love:

So much detail and it captures the feeling of seeing faraway for the first time really well ^^

Some nitpicky positive thoughts:

Sunny could have looked more distinct from Omori because the only difference I see are their outfits. Maybe make Sunny's features softer and have less contrasting values so we can see an immediate difference.

I like how they did everyone's eyes-- Sunny/Omori's are just dull and black, and everyone else with dark eyes are shown to have a light in them. (Just a nice detail i appreciated)

I like how Omori is clearly less expressive compared to sunny, but I think Sunny could have benefitted from having more emotions than surprised/blushing.

2. The pacing was weird. like really fucking weird. The basic structure of the game Omori is: Omori is in whitespace -> Omori plus the gang (Hero, Aubrey and Kel) meet up with Basil and Mari in headspace -> everyone minus Mari goes to Basil's house and learn all the combat stuff along the way -> after fixing the photo album it suddenly shifts to basil in a panicked state before glitching you back into white space again. The moment when basil shifts the mood from calm to terrifying is REALLY important.

It forces the new tone on you very suddenly and also sets up a lot of mystery surrounding Mari when Basil can't finish what he was going to say about her. By now we know that something is very wrong and it has to do with Mari, but we don't know what.

The manga is kind of all over the place the whole time. First we see the christmas scene when Sunny gets his violin. But then Mari does her whole nightmare thing and we know somethings up from the first few pages. Next we wake up at night as Sunny in the real world... yet it shows the little "THREE DAYS LEFT" as well? At this point I was super confused because basically the entire nighttime sequence is shown through a sort of montage with Sunny's mom's voice message in the background before transitioning into the day when Kel first knocks on the door. A cool thing they did was parallel Kel's knocking with the creepy knocking we get from Mari Something. HOWEVER for reasons unknown they just completely cut out the fight against something on the stairs??

Something I was really excited about was seeing how they would integrate the combat into the manga. And they do it later with the Aubrey fight (more on that later), but not now? So now I'm wondering if they'll include Sunny's three fears that he has to overcome.

So next we find our boy (KEL!!!!!) and he is asking Sunny if he wants to come to Hobbies. I did find the dialogue here pretty awkward as Kel bounced back and forth in demeanor, but that's to be expected since Sunny isn't talking. (And I appreciate how he shows some kind of reaction to seeing one of his best friends after 4 years lol)

I mean compared to this when he just jumps straight into his hobbez idea without much reaction to actually seeing Sunny lol.

The most notable thing after this is the Aubrey confrontation with Basil and the other hooligans. I DONT KNOW WHY but they chose to not show the hooligans in that scene!! The hooligans are aubrey's little gang/posse who she hangs around with all the time and the people we always see when she's bullying Basil.

It's very important to note that Basil is talking to KIM here. He starts the conversation begging for her to tell Aubrey to give the photo album back. Aubrey is actively ignoring his attempts to get it back, with basil claiming "She won't listen to me."

In the manga she appears out of seemingly no where and proceeds to beat Basil directly with her bat. Prior to this we get no setup or explanation as to why Aubrey's attacking him or what the situation is. WORST OF ALL, It's only Aubrey alone attacking him and NOT her gang of the Hooligans. The hooligans are important in showing us just how isolated and ostracized from society Basil really is after Aubrey began bullying him. He literally has a whole gang of kids who call him a creep and attack him regularly. Here it seems like Aubrey is insane and is just beating him selfless for kicks. (not that I'm justifying Aubrey's behavior in the game, but the lack of context makes this situation even worse.)

I think It's also important to bring up how they switched around the order of events because in this situation, it's not working. We're supposed to first be introduced to younger Aubrey and Basil in headspace-- their younger counterparts. Aubrey is strong-willed and excitable and Basil is calm and kind. And most importantly-- they're VERY GOOD FRIENDS. So seeing Aubrey revealed to have been bullying him these past 4 years shocks the player and makes them understand how much things have really changed. Doing it the other way around will automatically villainize DW Aubrey since we already know what goes on in real life.

And then something interesting happens-- Sunny blacks out during the fight and returns to Headspace. This is SUPER weird as we've only ever seen Sunny go into headspace while sleeping, because it's an escape mechanism he uses to avoid The Truth. Does this mean he isn't aware he goes into headspace unwillingly sometimes? And what does this mean for the continuation of the real world story? Are we going to go through the entire Space Boy quest just to get back to that scene?

Anyway, I'm interested to see how they take it from here. Maybe they'll do a continuous switchover to the real world where they jump between it more frequently. But I question what that would mean for the timeline because the events of headspace happen in between the three days while Sunny is sleeping-- so he can't be in two places at the same time. Maybe they'll write more and more random ways for Sunny to black out to do this?? They defiantly are trying to take a step back from following the game exactly. I can't say I don't like it because I don't know how it'll turn out, so I'm excited for chapter 2!

#omori #omori manga #omori analysis #omori sunny #omori basil #omori fanart #omori game #omori aubrey #omori kel #omocat #omori mari #omori omori

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atthebell · 4 months

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practical advice about college you say?

[the weird spaces between some paragraphs are because i hit the character limit on content blocks which i didnt really know existed until now, fascinating!]

Don't buy too much shit. There will be a lot of things that people tell you are useful— buy things that seem like necessities, then figure out what you need from there. My grandma tried to buy me all kinds of crap and some of it was utterly useless, whereas other random stuff was super helpful (like towels, you should own at LEAST two towels, more if you reallyyyyy don’t want to do laundry).

Decor and things to make your dorm room (if applicable, also relevant for apartments etc.) feel more lived in are excluded from the above; if you want to have a million pieces of art on your walls, absolutely go for it. In fact, other people will think you're cool and want to hang out with you, I'm not even joking. Maybe invest in a bean bag, those are also a good seating thing for small rooms. I had a regular bean bag and then a giant one and it was a great way to have fun seating in my room (I hosted a lot of hangouts/let people just chill in my room a lot, so your personal mileage may vary).

Go find free food. There is more free food than you could even imagine on college campuses, go find it and don't be afraid to bundle some up in a napkin or some Tupperware and take it home. This is genuinely grad student 101 (grad students often don't have meal plans like undergrads) but is very relevant to all elements of college. I was notorious amongst friends and acquaintances for going to all kinds of events and bringing food home, and it was awesome. I could swipe some bagels from a student org social and the next morning I wouldn't have to worry about waking up early enough to grab breakfast from the dining hall or, heaven forbid, cooking.

Along similar lines, keep a decent amount of snacks/food in your room. Do you love trader Joe's chocolate covered almonds? Goldfish? Wasabi peas? Keep a stash in your room at all times. Future you will thank past you, especially when you're feeling down or studying or both. If you have a mini fridge or anything like that, keep a few cold things in there, like Gatorade or energy drinks for late nights or even cream cheese for the previously mentioned free bagels.

Join some student orgs! I assure you that while I have always been an over involved maniac of a human being, I am not anything even close to a social butterfly. You don't have to be, but having a few connections, especially with people in similar circumstances to you (first in your family to go to college, low income, women in stem, queer, latine, whatever your background and/or situation may be). You might not meet people you click perfectly with, but you'll at least be able to connect with people who get your experiences on some level. I truly do not know what I would've done without my college’s first gen/low income program or the Jewish community I found going to various events.

Professors are way more chill than you think. I say this as someone who asked for extensions every single semester/quarter of university i was in and again went to several incredibly prestigious colleges. Many professors are way less hardass than you may think, and some are the kind of people who will invite you over for shabbes dinner and become incredibly important mentor figures for you. The latter are harder to find, but there are plenty of extremely cool professors and TFs and lecturers who are always down to talk about course content or any number of topics. Everyone always says this but go to office hours! It really helps and it's just a great way to connect better with people passionate about the same things you are.

Grades are stupid and bad. This is not specific to college; the focus on grades in all levels of education is ridiculous and counterproductive to learning. This is important for you to know and remember, even when grades DO matter; for transcripts, for grad school, for getting jobs and scholarships and other opportunities. Trust me, I understand that grades matter, but I want you to know that they shouldn't, and you aren't stupid or worthless if you struggle with academics, or if you feel like your grades don't reflect your effort. Grades are a way to standardize (retch) measurement of learning, but they don't show the full or accurate picture. You are so much more than your grades or where or what you're studying.

Take fun classes! I know a lot of STEM majors make it incredibly difficult to dip out of course tracks, but if you can, try to take some fun and diverse classes. Take a gender studies class, take a theater class, learn photography, take a wacky science class, take a language course (this one I want to specifically highlight!!!! learn a new language while you're in a setting that's way easier (for many people) to learn one in!), find a beloved professor from another field and dip your toes in. I took all kinds of wild classes (religious studies is not a major where they fill up your schedule with required classes, at least not at my university) and had a blast, and it's good to have some familiarity with different fields and possibly how they connect with your own. Also it's just fun! You can meet new people and learn a lot from studying something you haven't before.

Be very nice to your custodial staff but know that they are probably deeply underpaid and understaffed. And get to know your housing staff too so you know more about who to call in certain situations. Also get a tool set so you can fix minor stuff yourself.

Don't be afraid to party, but also don't feel pressured. I spent most of my college years in a group of friends who played board games every week instead of drinking, and I personally did not drink until I was 21 for various personal reasons. If people make fun of you, don't hang out with those people. If they pressure you, stay the fuck away. If people are judgy about your drinking/partying/hookup choices? They can go fuck themselves. Find people who respect your decisions, either way, no matter what they are, and anyone else can fuck off.

I didn't really date or hook up in college but I did get hit on by a lot of beautiful bisexual women. If a very hot girl that you want to hang out with in a sexual or romantic context asks you to teach her to play pool, just say yes. Do not shoot yourself in the foot. If someone sets you up on a date with a friend of theirs and you guys vibe better as friends, never let this person go. I'm joking but that's how I met my best friend who I adore perhaps more than anyone else in this world so you never know what the universe will hand you.

Get more sleep. Whatever amount of sleep you're getting, try to sleep more. Sometimes homework or frat parties or boyfriends matter a lot less than just getting a few more hours of sleep, and you will retain information better and feel less like shit. Please get more sleep and maybe drink less caffeine.

Befriend some grad students! I'm completely unbiased (<3) but grad students have a lot of insight about college and life as a young adult, and they're often very cool. They might invite you over to smoke weed and talk about Kant— I cannot stress enough that you never have to do something you don't want, but say yes to this if it's at all appealing. Definitely not another personal anecdote.

Connect with your first gen/low income and/or financial aid office(s). They will have incredibly helpful info, including about getting jobs or scholarships or even just the experience of being low income at college. Also, if you're attending a California Community College, apply for the CCPG (previously known as the BOGW)! It waives all enrollment and tuition fees if you meet eligibility and qualification requirements. I would add more resources but I am a Californian so that's what I have at the moment.

Kind of related, if you're leaving university right now with student loans and you're low income, apply for the SAVE plan to make smaller (or no) payments and less (or no) interest. It's been saving my ass for a while now and it could be helpful for you.

Drink more water. If you need it cold, get a brita pitcher thing and put it in your minifridge if you have one. If not, ice from the dining hall + a decently insulated water bottle. You should be drinking on average 8oz every two hours, or every one hour when it's really hot.

Have a craft or a hobby or a video game or a show or a book or a movie or something that you can do like. At least once a week as Chill Time. Personally I would have some Chill Time at least once a day, but if you are busy to the max, Chill Time once a week is mandatory. Doesn’t have to be the same time every time, but if it is, clear your schedule. That is the only thing happening then. No one gets to interrupt Chill Time. Not to be confused with hanging out with friends, which is still a good activity you should do many times a week. This is Chill Alone Time, where you just sit with yourself and do something you like to do alone. Get a coloring book, learn how to cross stitch, read a book on native birds, whatever suits your fancy.

If you are anything like the hot mess express that I was, you will go to class in pajamas/sweats. This is fine. There are probably some people out there who care about this, but you should ignore them. Similarly, if you, for instance, wake up at 1pm for your 1:30pm class, feel only the amount of shame necessary to make you able to be on time to class (if the prof cares) and nothing more. I stayed up til 4:30am every single night my freshman year of college it is a miracle I was ever awake during the day and the fact that I managed to do my coursework and still have a social life continues to be a mystery to me today. Anyway, your fashion choices in college but especially your first year should never be judged to any significant standard. If you’re wearing clothes at all, that’s commendable.

If you’re on a biking campus, wear a helmet. This is not optional, wear a fucking helmet. Also for the love of fuck have a bike light and use it at night you do not want to be smushed by a car at 3am biking back from wherever you’ve been.

If you do not know how to do laundry, ask someone. Please do not just go into the laundry room with full confidence and dump 16 loads worth of detergent into a washing machine and fuck it up for everyone. Also not a single dorm dryer will ever work correctly. Know this, and invest in a drying rack or be content to fry the shit out of your clothes at 90 minutes of high heat.

Communicate with your roommate(s). You do not have to be friends, you don’t even have to like each other, but you should be on the same page about stuff. Especially re: sexiling, taking the trash out, volume levels, friends over, etc. etc. You don’t want to get to the end of the year and then realize your roommate fucking hates you because you never asked if she was cool with whatever thing you’ve been doing that’s been annoying her.

This is just general young adult life advice but: You will fuck up. Like, probably more than you think. But you will be okay, and you should know that everyone does that. You’re learning how to do stuff on your own, you’re possibly leaving a bad situation or even a great situation into something you don’t know enough about to possibly be prepared. It’s hard! It’s going to be hard for a bit! But you are not the only person who’s done this, and there are a lot of people out there you can talk to and find support from. The worst thing you could possibly do is isolate yourself, so please don’t do that. Find some good people, eat some good food, and for the love of fuck get more sleep.

#asks #anons #long post #if i think of anything more or if anyone else has advice feel free to add on #this is mostly geared towards people like going away to college and living in dorms #but i have plenty of slightly more academic advice as well

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