#IT LOOKS WORSE THE LONGER I LOOK AT IT SO I HAVE TO POST IT

[jack-bytez-genuine-corner]

It also ignores the need vs want aspect. The calculator allowed for people to do infinitely more complex problems faster, which is a thing that's a need, as in it literally lead to inventions that saved lives and enabled other technologies, good and bad to occur. It was also a step up from the abacus, which is in and of itself another marvel entirely. No one NEEDS art to be made faster as that, in and of itself, ignores the point of the humanities. There is no benefit to generative AI in the way it is currently being sold which is massively wasteful and a giant gimmick, this is why even the Apple AI commercials are embarrassed to present it's "Uses" cause it ignores the central point of not just the creative process but why you even prep for meetings or create gifts for people or use the written word to communicate. If you fundamentally don't understand, any moment you remember is likely a direct result from the human element, whether it be the lack of it or from it, like a cookie from your grandma quite literally tastes differently cause of your attachment to your grandma, just like how an insult from a friend will hurt worse than a stranger. You may WANT to write a letter instantly or create a gift instantly but without that human element you won't feel anything from it nor will anyone else.

Companies obviously want generative AI cause they only see the human element as costing money while ignoring that they wouldn't exist without the human element, and this means Gen AI is treated as the next big thing like NFTs or Crypto when in reality, just like those two, it's all smoke and mirrors with any beneficial aspect either already existing and are used or being too niche to ever be sellable for it's cost. Which is sad cause the tech behind the AI could be used to make accurate translations which can serve anyone in a foreign place in daily life. The same tech could be detecting things like cancer faster and with higher accuracy than a doctor, not replacing the doctor but enabling more effective screenings, lowering human error.

Generative AI will likely get itself sued into oblivion, but even before then it'll be treated like Web3 is now: An interesting oddity that will be abandoned once corporations, who are run by short term profit fetishization, run a single bad quarter and the house of cards collapses. Funnily enough it's those who are pushing generative AI the hardest that will get it killed cause, as a result of AI slop, it's become massively hated and viewed as an intrusive figure in every site and application it exists. The generative AI profiles Facebook touted recently? From 2024 if they still have a profile at all and they don't actually post at all, with many of them deactivated cause of errors and cost. Summaries by Gemini? Making people look for alternatives to Chrome and Google as a whole cause it not only gives unwanted insight (That is typically wrong anyways) but it is increasing the enshittification of a product that just fucking worked and no longer just fucking works. That AI "Artist" who sold whatever for a gazillion dollars? Nobody but the rich who fundamentally do not understand anyone but themselves doesn't care.

The calculator saved lives just like the abacus. Generative AI solely exists for a literal handful, a small village of ultrarich morons to gamble on cause they THINK if they JUST gut the human element it'll just work but they are so blinded by greed they can't even see a single step forward and the obvious issues that it displays. Just like when Wallstreet celebrated Trump's return and are hyped up on Musk and other venture capitalists being in his colon, they clearly have never opened a single history book and seen what happens, inevitably, when people blinded by greed get burned by their greed. Gen AI is a symptom of our rot economy, and I really don't think they paid attention to what happens when you break societal contracts for gold.

It's really telling that the Apple AI ads are ashamed of the product it's selling while the people funding it somehow don't see it. Never seen calculators boast about how secretive and sly they are, almost like when a thing is good it has lots of brag about.

'People are panicking about AI tools the same way they did when the calculator was invented, stop worrying' cannot stress enough the calculator did not forcibly pervade every aspect of our lives, has such a low error rate it's a statistical anomaly when it does happen, isn't built on mass plagiarism, and does not obliterate the fucking environment when you use it. Be so fucking serious right now

[deantfwinchester]

Gingerly

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader, same timeline

This one is set not long before the events of "A New Chapter" - before Reader & Sarah pick out Halloween costumes :)

Summary: Early mornings in the first trimester present a new set of challenges for the growing Miller family. Joel does his best to find remedies for their dilemma.

Warnings: pregnancy, so many euphemisms for vomit, so beware

A/N: this one isn't very long. it's lowkey a prequel to the one I'm posting next. Very similar stories at two different points in their lives. <3

Word Count: 1.8k.

____________________________________________________________

You’re spending longer than usual this morning hugging the porcelain. It didn’t take long after discovering your pregnancy for the morning sickness to kick in, and it’s a killer. This is happening more often than you’d like, but at least it’s over pretty quickly most days — just a little eviction of last night’s dinner to make room for breakfast, apparently. Isn’t this kid supposed to make you hungrier? What’s their deal?

Today’s a little different, and you’re left retching long enough to impact your punctuality to work. Gotta send a text to some coworkers to get your class covered. You hate it, but it’s not exactly a willpower game at this point — this kid wants all of yesterday’s food GONE, but your stomach is putting up a fight. Unfortunately, you’re the one losing.

Joel’s wandering anxiously in and out of the bathroom, worrying like hell. He’s going back and forth between sitting with you and rubbing your back —he’d pulled your hair up for you after the first evacuation — and checking on Sarah, making sure she gets ready for school. He’d hovered for a while until the two of you heard Sarah come downstairs, and you insisted he go get her some breakfast, just please don’t tell you what it is. He’s in and out as Sarah eats, and she pops in to check on you and tell you she made him sit down for a minute and eat something too. You shoot her the most grateful smile you can muster on the green-around-the-gills visage you’re sporting at the moment. He’s got a full day ahead as well, and you’d been worrying right back… from your position on the bathroom tile, at least. 

When they’ve both finished breakfast, Joel returns to your side, waiting until the last possible second to leave before Sarah’s late for school. You assure him it’s not a big deal, you’ll be okay in a little while. He knows this, and that it’s normal, but it breaks his heart to leave you there on the floor.

“How ‘bout I drop Sarah off and come right back? Tommy can get everybody started at the site, and I’ll just stay long enough to get you to work,” he questions, placing the back of his hand to your cheek to check your temperature again “just to make sure that’s all it is!” before sighing and tucking some loose hair behind your ear. You shake your head slowly, trying to minimize the nausea. 

“There’s not really anything for you to do, sweetie. As much as having you here with me afterward makes me feel better, we can’t both be late to work every day for the next month. Maybe longer than that. I’ll probably be fine by the time you get back anyway. Just be a wasted trip.” You huff at the end, hoping the nausea is reaching its end for this morning and you can get up and get ready to leave.

Joel looks at you with a pained expression and cringes at the word month. Just seeing you dealing with this the last few weeks has been agonizing for him — he doesn’t even want to imagine how it feels. 

“No such thing as a wasted trip when it comes to you, darlin’. ‘S my job, you know that,” he responds, with a sympathetic smile, and continues before you can rebut. “But alright, I’m goin’. Promise you’ll text me if you’re feelin’ any worse?,” he lifts a pinky to you, and you hook yours right back, turning your cheek when he tries to kiss your lips. You chuckle at his disappointment when his own lips meet your cheek.

“Gross, you do not wanna kiss me right now,” you laugh through. He begs to differ but understands your reluctance. He tells you to hang tight for just a minute before he finally leaves, and returns with an armful of supplies. Next to you on the floor are a water bottle, some plain crackers, some tylenol, and something with bubbles to settle your stomach. 

He asks you to “please try and eat a little somethin’ before you leave, baby”, to which you nod and assure him you’ll do your best, trying to get him satisfied as possible and light a fire under him before Sarah’s late for school. He bends down, kisses the top of your head, squeezes your shoulder, and heads out the door to meet Sarah in his truck. 

______________________________________________________________

Joel's texting to check on you around the time you get off the floor. You’re nibbling the crackers he left and trying small sips of water like he asked — which he’s reminded you of again — but you’re struggling with it.  He calls you as you’re packing your things to leave. 

“Hey sweetheart, how you feelin’? Get any of those crackers down for me?” he inquires.

“I’m fine, just about to leave. I ate a couple of them, and I’ll bring them with me,” you respond, trying and failing to keep the exhaustion from your voice. He pauses for a moment.

“Level with me, baby. You don’t sound up for it, you sure we don’t need to talk to the doctor? I can come home, we can go today, I’ll just—” but you cut him off before he can spiral any further.

“Joel. You’re sweet, and I know you’re worried, but it’s not any worse than normal. It’s just sticking around longer today. Yes, I’m still a little,,, blech,,, but it’ll be gone in a bit. I’ll make some tea before I leave, that’ll help,” you affirm. He lets out a sigh that tells you he’s not convinced, but resigned to the fact you’re going to work regardless. Soon enough, he arrives at the site and asks you to keep him updated, which you promise and wish him a good day and an “i love you” to get you both through the day. 

______________________________________________________________

You get to work right before the switch to 2nd period, still not feeling great, but stable enough to drive there safely and get your kids started on something to keep them busy. Today’s a good day for a documentary, a worksheet, and a dark classroom. The kids will thank you for it anyway, but somehow still need something every three minutes. That’s at least one thing that won’t be unfamiliar when the baby arrives — even though you have high schoolers. 

You shoot Joel a text, letting him know you got to work okay, and that you’ve chosen something to help you take it (slightly) easy today. You hope this message will ease his mind so he can get back to work as well.

Joel responds with a brief message in the affirmative, but he’s still worried sick. He’s seen you deal with this each day for the last couple of weeks, but this morning your voice was shaking and your face was ashen. What if this isn’t just today? What if it’s getting worse? He's afraid you’ll end up dehydrated or won’t bother to eat enough at work. You struggle with remembering lunch on days you feel good, he knows you won’t even bother today, and it’s eating at him while he works. 

He decides to surprise you at lunch time with something filling that won’t upset your stomach, and that’ll entice you to eat. He wants to make sure you’re fed today, and that there are some more options at the ready — for your sake and his own. He does a little research and stops by the grocery store to grab an array of plain foods and a bunch of liquids. By the time he leaves there are multiple types of crackers in tow, applesauce packets, a few bone broths, some of your favorite juices and teas, a bag of ginger candies plus a jar of ginger gummy vitamins, and more. He’s no technology wiz, but the man can google up a storm when the need arises. 

He rolls up to your classroom’s back door when he knows it’s time for lunch and texts you, grabbing his things and stepping out of the truck to meet you. You walk out to find him with a big bottle of cold gatorade and a takeout bag hanging from his fingers. You muse that the pretty big gatorade bottle looks normal-sized in Joel's large, gentle hands. You don’t even take anything from his grasp before you lean forward into his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He smiles, and wordlessly puts his chin atop your head before wrapping his free arm around you, rubbing lightly up and down your back.

Neither of you has to say a word for him to tell you’re still not feeling 100%, and he’s whispering sweet things while you stand there in his embrace. You hide your face in his chest trying to quell your tears before they start. You know him well enough that this gesture doesn’t exactly surprise you, but he’s so thoughtful that his kindness moves you every damn time. It’s not something you ever felt before Joel, but he’ll never stop trying to get you accustomed, and you know that.

You look up at Joel like he hung the moon, memorizing every warm shade in his bright eyes, hoping your own reflect the appreciation and admiration dancing in your chest. He holds you tight and sits you in the passenger seat of the truck before pulling out the takeout boxes and cracking open your gatorade. The cool, lightly-flavored liquid soothes you in a way water hasn’t quite accomplished today — doesn’t even matter that neither of you knows what “Glacier Freeze” means, it’s effective. 

You lean against his shoulder while you both eat lunch, talking to each other and the baby. Joel laughs and praises you for putting on a movie for your kids before recounting the events of his morning. He shares everything he learned from his research, and even more he heard at the grocery store from a couple of older women who saw him contemplating the ginger options by the prenatal vitamins. You imagine him staring intently at bottles in the pregnancy aisle of the Health & Beauty section and laugh, thinking of how his concentration and concern would’ve made the old ladies he spoke to melt. You’re surprised he didn’t get a cheek pinched at this rate. 

You sit together until the school bell breaks your reverie and you have to kiss him goodbye. He hands you an already prepped ziploc baggie of even more shelf-stable snacks he bought to keep in your desk to settle your stomach as needed. You grin at him again, shaking your head.

“Joel, this is too much trouble. I can’t believe you did all of this just this morning!” you exclaim, before he scoffs and responds. 

“I told you — no such thing as a wasted trip for you, baby.”

[alexa-fika]

HIIIIIIIII

Ive been dead uh, I read abandoned treasures. If you EVER, get the chance or time to write a part too I will literally melt beneath your feet-

I LIKE to think reader might be scared of someone- xd for some odd factor. I think a interaction like that might be a saucey base Xd

XOXO - FROM THE DEEPTS OF HELL!!

Sick Treasure ( Thatch x child!reader x Marco)

A/N LEEE NO IT’S ME WHO IS BACK FROM THE DEPTHS , two whole seasons later and your request has arrived! Dokucha is still a savage on this one but the character is going trough trauma soo.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers alike!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

It turns out that emotional burnout was not the only that led to Dokucha’s body giving out; the effects from the sun poisoning they had subjected themselves to had finally hit its climax, leaving the small child bedridden and with a high fever at the clinic.

“How are they?” Thatch questioned as he entered the clinic, gaining the attention of Marco, who sat at the desk looking through papers, a pair of glasses perched on his nose as he did so, watching as his brother placed a small plate of food next to the sick bay bed.

“Their fever has begun to recede-yoi, the swelling has also gone down though because they are healing, the skin has begun to peel, so we have to give them distractions from the itching so that they don’t delay the healing by tearing the skin open-yoi.” he listed, removing the glasses from his face and tossing them on his desk as he spun on his chair to face the chef.

“Hells’ bells!” Thatch yelled in surprise as Dokucha suddenly shot up from the bed. They looked around, confused, frowning as they saw the two commanders. Their little minds slowly filled in the pieces as they glanced at the IV attached to their arm, their hands inching towards the tube.

“Don’t think about it-yoi,” Marco warned as he also shot from his chair and approached the kid.

“You take those off or get out of this clinic without being cleared off, and I will make sure you have no access to your little watch post-yoi,” he warned, pointing a finger their way in a silent challenge.

“I can sue you for malpractice and kidnapping,” they snapped back, not willing to step down from the argument

“First of all, I’m not sure how someone your age even knows that-yoi,” Marco started—throwing a slight glare at Thatch as the latter let out a snicker at Dokucha’s words.

“Second, I am doing my job as a doctor and ensuring you are back to health; that includes making sure you remain here while I do, lest your sun poisoning gets even worse-yoi. I would be performing malpractice if I let you leave in the state that you are.

Third, “We’re pirates; we’re already wanted, so accusing us of anything will do you no good-yoi,” he informed her, letting a little snicker himself at the horrified look they sent his way at his final words.

“Hey, Don’t worry Kid, your safe here; I just need you to stay a little bit longer so I can be sure you won’t faint on us-yoi” he reassured with a smile as he ruffled their head, retracting it just as quickly when Dokucha swatted at him.

“Now, I’ll be at my desk looking through your labs. I’ll leave you to Thatch-yoi; I need you to eat and drink something,” he called as he walked away and took his previous position. He began browsing through a small array of papers, his glasses now back on his face.

“Howdy Sweets!” Thatch greeted, taking Marco’s previous spot. He opened a small table connected to the bed and placed the plate he had brought to the room on it.

“Seeing as you probably have nausea, our options aren’t big, but we still have to try to get somethin' in you. M’sorry, my first dish to ya is hospital food,” he told her as he offered them the dish.

“…This is hospital food?” They mumbled in awe. The dish itself was pretty, like nothing Dokucha had ever seen, with a serving of noodles on one side accompanied by what Dokucha could only guess was some type of curd that seemed to have been baked to perfection. Those were surrounded by different vegetables, from leafy greens to bright red vegetables whose names escaped the child’s mind; a vibrant yellow liquid surrounded the array of food, and the smell was beyond anything they had smelt.”

“Yeah?” Thatch tentatively answered, confused about the reaction of the child, worried that it perhaps was not to their liking

“B-But this is…

“M’sorry if ya don’t like it sweets, I would still like for you t-

“The yummiest food I’ve seen…”

-eat some so ya ca- hah?” Thatch shared a glance with Marco, who by now had lowered the papers and watching the interaction a similar frown on his face.

It was true that Thatch’s skills were well above those of other pirates, not only in cooking ability in general but also in making food an essential part of treatment; but for a simple broth, a food simply meant to help the sick be nursed to health, to be called the best food they had, well, that certainly raised some alarms in both their heads, though they chose not to act on them.

“Well, Marco thinks you’ll be fit as a fiddle come tomorrow, so I’m sure I can get you somethin’ even betta.”

“No, I won’t need it. Papa and Mama will be back by then, so I don’t need your food.” Dokucha called as they seemingly snapped out of the reverie they had entered at the sight of Thatch’s food; their previous attitude to them returning

“Dokucha. They are not coming back-yoi,” Marco stated

“Yes, they are! You guys are liars! Dirty liars!” they yelled, throwing the plate onto the floor in a fit of anger, the sound of the broken ceramic echoing around the clinic.

“Thatch, could you come a bit later? Maybe bring them some dinner instead-yoi.”

Hearing this, Thatch let out an exasperated sigh, and Dokucha could have sworn they heard him muttered something along the lines of ‘not again’ in his heavy accent before he nodded his head and waved dismissively to the Doctor as he left.

“Dokucha, do you know how long it has been since you last saw your parents-yoi?”

“Why does that matter? It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; they are coming back,” they snarled.

“Alright, Let’s make a deal-yoi

You have around a month until you are out of the woods from this sun poisoning. If during that time you let us do what we need to get you there, I will talk to pops about returning to the island we found you in if your parents return during that time great-yoi. But if they don’t, you have to listen to us; you have to listen to what we have to say about it without giving us the cold shoulder.”

“…you won’t force me to stay?”

“No, even if your parents don’t come, you just need to listen to what we have to say about it. Afterward, you are free to go or stay-yoi”

“My parents will be there.” They stated, determined, glaring at the man

“So you agree-yoi?”

“Yes”

Our men are so equipped to deal with trauma 😷

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[starrihan]

Higher Than Heaven (Yeonjun Fic)

→ Pairing: Yeonjun x afab! Reader

→ Plot: a group project is the last thing you want for your midterm, but working with the student who smokes makes it 10x worse

→ Genre: smut, tiny tiny bit of angst, protection (yes!!), kissing, hickeys, piv sex, reader is judgmental + hates smoking, swearing (Imk if i missed any!!)

→ Warnings: smoking, mentions of food, joke about dead grandparents

→ Word Count: 7,746

→ Notes: hey guys! This is the first fic of my Sanctuary Series! For more information about the series I would recommend going to this post here!I just want to clarify that I do not share the same views as the reader does in this fic, it was purely for plot purposes! Hope you enjoy pt 1 of the series 😚

༄ ༄ ༄

You were always a goodie two-shoes. Perfect attendance, good grades, class president, the story writes itself. You grew up playing different instruments and were always enrolled in a sport or after-school club to keep yourself busy and your portfolio reflecting nothing less than perfection. So how did you go from valedictorian and class president of your high school to a college student who is on the verge or dropping out? 

The amount of work you’d allowed to accumulate over the past few weeks was enough to scare even the professors, making them question whether they actually assigned that much work. You could feel your grays coming in at the sight of all your work, exhaling as you decide to tackle the easy assignments first. 

It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday. You had a couple of assignments due tomorrow night that you absolutely could not afford to push off any longer. You had already asked for extensions on most of your assignments so far and you didn’t know how many more dead grandparents you could have before your professors questioned the validity of your failed punctuality when it came to turning in your assignments on time. You had class at 3 p.m, giving you a good two and half hours to get some work done. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You pack up your belongings as the clock strikes 2:30 p.m. You had gotten a couple of your easy assignments done, though it was very taxing to say the least. You make your way to your class, bundling up as the cold was brutal enough to warrant a cancelation, though, your university would never do that (speaking from experience because wdym its 2℉ out and i have to walk to class when theres black ice on the ground??).

You make it to your class about 15 minutes later, shivering from being cold yet sweating due to the many layers you had on. You take a seat next to your best friend, who had gotten there before you and saved your seat. 

“Can we go get food after class? I’ve had back to back classes and meetings all day and I’m starving.”

She drones on. You nod as you take out your laptop, waiting for the professor to start class. You’re prepared to mindlessly take notes for the next hour and half during lecture, but are pleasantly surprised when the professor doesn’t pull up the lecture slides. 

“Good afternoon class. I can all tell you guys are doing great so far.”

Her joke lands for some people, getting little chuckles and giggles from different corners of the lecture hall.

“Your midterms are a month away. I would normally give an exam for this class, but this year I have decided to switch it up. I have you all in pairs and you will be submitting a group assignment as your midterm. You will not be required to present but I will give you free reign on the design, layout and mode of presentation on the project meaning you can use any platform or software you would like to get the information across. I have sent you all emails with the name of the person you will be paired up with.”

You and friend look at each other and groan, knowing that the chance of you two being in a group is slim to none. Surely enough, you check your emails for your project partners.

“Who is Choi Yeonjun?” 

You ask, looking to your friend to see if she has any answers. She scans the room, presumably to see if he’s in class to point him out to you. 

“You see that kid in the middle row to the left? The one with the red hair? That’s him.

You look at the back of his head, sighing as you realize you don’t know this person and that this project is going to take a lot more time out of your busy schedule. 

“At least you’re not working with Choi Beomgyu. I heard he can be a handful.” 

Your friend rolls her eyes, burning holes in the back of the blonde boy's head, who happens to be sitting next to Yeonjun. You follow your eyes to see the boy, laughing at the irony of your partners sitting next to each other, just like their partners were. 

The rest of the class is drag, the growling of your stomach making it seem longer than it was as hunger consumes you. 

“Let’s go to the dining hall. I can’t afford to spend any more money on that overpriced cafe.”

Your friend says as you follow her out. It’s gotten pretty dark outside and there weren’t many students walking around in the cold. There were a couple of people here and there, probably walking back to their dorms after class. You two find yourself walking behind a person with their hood up, paying no mind to him until a cloud of smoke hits your face. Your audible groan at the smell of weed alerts his attention as he turns around and apologizes for smoking right in front of you. As he pulls his hood down, you recognize the tuft of bright red hair sitting on the top of his head. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you guys were behind me. I didn’t mean for the smoke to hit you.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. Not only did you have to work with a random stranger, but he also smokes publically on campus. You didn’t like smoking or people who smoked. You couldn’t understand why people do it or what joy butchering your throat and lungs could bring you. Your friend knew that about you and sensing your irritation, she speaks up for you, dismissing the incident on your behalf while you both walk ahead of him. 

As soon as you know that you’re far enough away from Yeonjun, you ask,

“Can we switch partners?”

Your friend snickers.

“If he smokes, I can almost assure you that his friend does too, so switching partners wouldn’t help.” 

You finally enter the dining hall, taking in the heated building before putting your stuff down in search of mediocre food. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You spend the next few days catching up on any missing work, putting the project aside since you still have a month left to do it. You decide to use Sunday as your rest day, drained from the assignments you were able to get done. You still had many assignments left to do, but you could only do so much work and you were already feeling burnt out. Doing more work wouldn’t be eventful in any way. 

You prepare for your day as normal, showering and throwing on a cute, weather appropriate, outfit as you make your way to the cafe on campus. You needed something better than the dining hall coffee for a change. You went there quite often, as you were high school friends with one of the baristas there. You smile as you spot him, walking up to the counter. 

“Taehyun! How’ve you been?”

The boy beams brightly at you, loving your cheerful spirit upon seeing him.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you for a couple days! I’m good, how are you? And, do you want your usual?”

“I know, I’ve been busy and broke. But I’m doing alright, just catching up on all of my assignments. And yes please.”

“Oh, that’s good at least! Also we have a new employee that I’m training so it might take a minute to get your order. Is that okay?”

“Yeah of course! Take your time. Thank you!” 

You say, paying the balance of your meal and waiting at the end of the counter to get your food. You see a tall boy with red hair come out from the kitchen. You scoff to yourself as you recognize Yeonjun. ‘Of course he works here,’ you think. It takes him a couple of minutes to make your drink, still new to all the syrups and flavors that are available. As he finishes he calls out your name. 

“Y/N!” 

You walk up to him, remaining polite as you thank him for your order.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry if it took a while, it’s only my third day here.” 

“It’s okay, thank you for the food!” 

He stares at you and you’re about to grab your stuff and walk out, but he stops you.

“Wait, Y/N? Are you taking history 2204? With Professor X?” 

“Yeah?”

You feign ignorance, pretending not to know who he is. 

“Ah, I see. I’m Yeonjun. I think we’re partners for this project. It was nice to meet you.” 

He says as he smiles. You felt a little guilty about your prejudiced dislike towards him. He seemed nice enough, so what if he smokes? And you couldn’t lie to yourself, finding his smile and crinkled eyes cute.

“Oh yeah! It’s nice to meet you too!” 

“Can I give you my number? So we can discuss what days work for us to meet up and work on the project?” 

You nod as you hand him your phone. You watch as he types away his number, smiling as he hands it back to you.

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I’ll text you my schedule and we can figure out what works then.” 

He wished you a good day and you smile, finding his manners charming. 

༄ ༄ ༄

A week had passed since you met Yeonjun at the cafe. You were officially back on track as you submitted the last of your missing assignments the night before, finally being able to focus your time and energy on this project. You had yet to message Yeonjun and you didn’t know why you were nervous to text him. You didn’t want to start off the messages awkwardly so you went with a simple yet forward message to start the conversation.

“Hey! This is Y/N from history class. You gave me your number last week at the cafe.”

You release the breath you were subconsciously holding, hitting ‘send’ and waiting for a response. You didn’t want it to seem like you were glued to your phone, waiting for him to message you back so you bide your time by doing other things around your space. Cleaning up your desk, putting away your clothes, etc. 

You hear your phone go off, waiting a couple minutes to check who the message is from. You groan when it’s just one of your friends asking if you wanted to hang out later. You replied ‘sure,’ and went back to doing anything you could occupy yourself. 

It had been a couple of hours since you messaged him and still no response. Now pissed that he hadn’t yet gotten back to you, you decided to get ready to go out with your friends. There was a party at a bar on campus and you allowed yourself to go out as a reward for completing all your assignments. Putting on some light makeup, you chose a rather revealing outfit despite the winter weather, assuming that it was probably going to be hot in the bar. 

You met your friends there and all started with some drinks. You were talking about your days, just checking up on them. You had all been so busy with midterms coming up that you barely had time to hang out. After having about two more drinks, your friends dragged you onto the floor, dancing to whatever music the band was playing. 

“Y/N!!” 

You hear your name being called and turned around to find the source of the noise. You spot Taehyun and instantly your mood brightens up. 

“Taehyun! I didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“I wasn’t planning on coming but my friend asked me to come with him. I think you’ve met him before, Yeonjun? He’s the one that made your order a week ago.” 

You grimace upon hearing his name. At first, you cut him some slack because he seemed nice enough. You felt guilty about judging him because he smoked. But after not messaging you all day and then hearing that he was at this party, you went back on your word, the idea of disliking him appealing to you again. 

“Oh yeah, I know him. I remember meeting him last week.” 

You say, emotionless. 

“I want you to meet him again. And my other friends too, they’re all cool so I think you’ll like them.” 

You trusted Taehyun so maybe you had to hold off on your hatred a little longer. Though you were good at using your words, your expression and body language always failed you, never being able to hide your negative emotions. 

“These are my friends, Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai.” 

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N!” 

“Ah yes, we’ve heard a lot about you. Taehyun told us how you guys were best friends in high school.” 

Soobin said, his tall frame and black hair are easy on the eyes. 

“Yeah, me and Terry go way back! It feels like we met just a year ago but it’s already been 7 years”

You say, laughing. Yeonjun chuckles at your comment, sipping at his beer. 

“It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N. And I like your outfit, it suits you.” 

You stare towards him is cold but your cheeks betray you, heating up at his compliment towards your outfit. 

“Thank you…” 

Your night goes on, hopping between your friend group and Taehyun and his friends. One by one, they all start to leave as you’re left with one of your friends, Taehyun and Yeonjun. You introduce them all to each other and stay at the party for a little longer before deciding to leave. 

“I think I’m going to head back, Y/N. I’m tired and I have classes back to back tomorrow,” 

Your friend says, gathering her things.

“Alright but you can’t walk back by yourself? It’s too dark and you know how dangerous it can be.” 

You look around, trying to find a solution so that your friend doesn’t go back by herself. 

“Taehyun! You live on this side of campus right? Can you walk back with her?”

Taehyun looks to your friend, who’s blushing a little as you try to help her out. 

“Yeah sure but, what about you? You live on the opposite side so what are you gonna do?” 

“I can walk her back. I live around there anyways. It would be no trouble, really.” 

Yeonjun says, smiling as his eyes disappear. You mentally curse yourself for being left with Yeonjun, even though there was nothing else you can do about it. You all nod and go your separate ways, Taehyun with your friend and you with Yeonjun. 

On your walk back to your dorm, Yeonjun fishes a lighter out of his pocket, using it to light the joint that was in his other hand. Taking a drag, you immediately smell the inebriating plant and walk faster. He can sense something off between the two of you, the tension weighing down the atmosphere. 

“Did I do something to upset you? It just… seems like you don’t like me or don’t want me around?” 

You stop in your tracks, having been walking in front of him this entire time and turn around to face him. You exhale loudly before starting:

“First of all, I was not in the best state when the professor announced we were working in random pairs for this project. Not really your fault but then I’m walking behind you as we leave class and you’re smoking! Let alone, the smoke blows into my face and I hate smoking, let alone people who smoke. Then I met you at the cafe and you seemed really nice so I gave you the benefit of the doubt and thought that maybe I judged you too quickly and then I felt guilty. But then this morning, I text you and you left me on delivered all day and then I find you here, at this party and now you’re walking me back to my dorm. So yeah, you can say I’m not really fond of you.” 

You huff, the feeling of letting all of that off your chest almost euphoric. He puts his hand with the joint down next to him, taking his phone and checking his messages, and found that you did in fact text him and he didn’t read it. 

“I’m sorry for not reading your message, I was busy all day and I’m not allowed to use my phone during work. And I do apologize for smoking in front of you, even though it blowing in your face isn’t my fault. But that’s it? I didn’t actually do anything to you, so what’s the judgment for? Why do you hate people who smoke?” 

You didn’t want to stand in the cold any longer, and you didn’t want to have this conversation either. Really, you were avoiding his gaze because you really did have no valid reason to hate him. He never actually did anything to you. But you couldn’t back down now, otherwise you’d be embarrassed. You just huff as you turn on your heel, walking in the direction of your door, the rest of the walk back remaining silent. 

He walks you up to your building. You feel your phone ding, grabbing it from your pocket to check the notification. 

“I sent you my schedule. Let’s get this project done as quickly as we can so we don’t have to see each other again.” 

You hang your head low, guilt hitting you like a truck at the sight of an upset and hurt Yeonjun waiting for you to walk in. Even though you told him that you didn’t like him straight to his face, he still had the courtesy of waiting for you to enter your building so he can say he waited until you were safe to leave. You look back at him one last time, feeling worse than before as you run in and take the stairs up to your room. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You stare at Yeonjun’s schedule that sits in your messages, debating on whether or not you should ask your professor if you could work alone. You’re seriously contemplating it but ultimately decide that you should at least fix whatever you started, as it would be unfair to Yeonjun to leave him to do the project alone, though after your encounter last night, you’re sure he would appreciate not being your partner anymore. 

“Hey. I’m free this weekend if you are to work on the project.”

His reply is almost immediate, like he had been waiting for you to text him back. 

“Yeah, I’m free this weekend as well. Time and place?”

“Would you be comfortable coming over to my dorm at like 12 o’clock tomorrow? I want to apologize for the things I said and the way I acted…”

You bite your lip as you send the message, waiting for the rejection message to pop up.

“Sounds cool. I’ll see you at 12 tmr.”

No rejection? You were utterly surprised at this chance of redemption though, a little taken aback at how nonchalant he sounded. You lived in a single dorm so cleaning up wasn't that bad. You made sure to have plenty of snacks and drinks stocked in your mini fridge and made a little cozy corner for him to work in, while you would sit at your desk. You even made sure to text Taehyun and to ask what Yeonjun’s favorite drink was so you could have it ready for him when he arrived. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You woke up early in the morning, getting ready for the day as you make your way to the cafe to pick up the drinks you had ordered for both yourself and Yeonjun. 

“Hey Taehyun! Do you have those drinks ready for me?”

“Hey! Yeah I do. I have your usual and an iced americano for Yeonjun!”

The boy says, big eyes gleaming as he hands you the drinks. 

“Thank you! I’ll see you later!”

You didn’t tell him about the events that transpired after the party, and from the looks of it Yeonjun hadn't told him anything either. You say your goodbyes and make your way to a little pop-up event on your campus. They were selling cookies and cupcakes to support their club, so you thought it would be a nice gesture to buy you and Yeonjun both a cookie and a cupcake each. 

Struggling to open your door with all the treats in your hands, you manage to get inside of your room and put all your stuff down. You check the time to see that it’s only 11:30 a.m, relieved to see that you still had some time to yourself. 

You hear a knock on your door a little bit later. You had sent Yeonjun the details of your dorm room before he got there but were still startled by the knock. You compose yourself, nervously opening the door to see a blank-faced Yeonjun staring back at you, this time wearing a loose sweater that hangs off his shoulder on one side, gray sweats and black, thick framed glasses. 

“Hey Yeonjun. Come in, I have some things prepared.” 

He nods as he walks in, slipping off his shoes at the little welcome mat you have placed in front of the door. The dorm itself is pretty small, enough for one person but it could still comfortably afford a guest. 

“First of all, I want to start with a verbal apology. I’m sorry for being prejudiced against you based on your smoking habits. And I’m sorry for lashing out on you last night when you asked a valid question. I know it wasn’t your fault that the smoke blew into my face and I guess I was just anxious about this project and texting you that I didn’t even stop to think and consider the fact that you could’ve been busy and didn’t have time to check your phone. Secondly, I asked Taehyun what your favorite drink at the cafe was so I got you an iced americano, and a cookie and cupcake from the fundraiser one of the clubs on campus is having.” 

You shyly hand over the cup with his drink and the snacks that were packed into a little plastic box. He takes the snacks out of your hand and for the first time all week, you relax your shoulders as Yeonjun smiles, accepting your apology and finding it cute in the process. 

“Thank you Y/N. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know what your deal with hating smoking is, but I accept and appreciate the apology nonetheless. Shall we get started?” 

You nod as you instruct him to put his stuff down in the little workspace you created for him, a small throw pillow and fox blanket resting on the inflatable chair you had blown up for him to make use of. He chuckles at the cute setup, settling his stuff down and getting comfy to start working.

༄ ༄ ༄

Throughout your working session, you had some conversation here and there when things got boring or you ran into a particularly difficult part of the project. A couple hours into working you both decide to tap out, noticing the time and finding that you had been working for 6 hours straight. 

“Oh my god, it’s been 6 hours!” 

You say, surprised that you were able to focus on the same assignment for so long though, to your credit, it felt like many different assignments bundled into one. 

“Damn, I didn’t even notice how late it was. That wasn’t so bad actually.” 

Yeonjun says, getting up to stretch his legs, americano and snack box empty as you both refused to leave the room to eat lunch. He picked up his trash, throwing it in the garbage before returning to his corner, looking at you before asking you a question you didn’t think he’d ask:

“Would you ever try it? Smoking I mean?

You stare at him blankly. Your immediate answer was no. Smoking is bad for you, it can cause illness or death. But when you opened your mouth to answer, you didn’t expect this to come out: 

“Maybe one day?” 

You’re speechless yourself at your answer. You were so adamant on hating smoking and never wanting to try it. What about Yeonjun asking you made you change your answer? Was it the way he so confidently stood up to you last night? Or the way he walked you to your dorm despite learning about your true feelings for him at the time? Or the way you wanted him to find you different from the character you first gave off, the one that judged him for smoking in the first place? As if he could see the inner struggle etched onto your face he remarks,

“I thought you hated smoking? What makes you want to try it?” 

Your face heats up at your own silence, but you respond anyway.

“I do hate it. And I actually don’t want to try it. I don't know why I said that. But why do you smoke in the first place?” 

You ask, trying to change the subject to be towards him. Catching onto your little trick, he humors you. 

“It’s a relaxing way to unwind after a stressful day. Sit back, throw on a movie and take a couple hits and you’re there. Relaxed as can be with no other care in the world. You should try it, maybe then you won’t be as tightly wound.” 

You scoff at his little jab at you towards the end of his explanation. You couldn’t lie, with the way he was explaining it to you, the idea of smoking did sound very enticing. But nonetheless, you were willing to stand your ground on this topic, after all, this whole situation you were in with Yeonjun stemmed from your hatred towards smoking and you weren’t going to back down now. 

“As if. And I am not tightly wound, thank you very much. Maybe you can’t tell because you’re brain fried from all the weed you smoke.” 

Thinking your remark has granted you victory in this argument, Yeonjun smirks, offering you a challenge. 

“Try it. Prove me wrong that you won’t feel relaxed. That it won’t make you feel like a weight has been temporarily lifted off of you.” 

He reached down into his bag, pulling out a metal box and setting it on your desk. Upon clicking it open, the smell of weed immediately wafts through the room, filling your nose and causing you to cough slightly. 

“Do you mind not opening that up in my room? We’re not supposed to smoke in the dorms anyways!” 

You said, grabbing air freshener to dilute the smell of the weed. 

“Relax, it's fine. Plus the hall directors on this floor all do it too, so they won’t care.” 

You scoff as he takes a seat, carefully grinding the bud so as not to get any on your desk. He then fiddles with the contraption used to pack the weed into the paper, sealing it off after having packed it fully. 

“I’ll demonstrate how to do it and then you take a hit, okay?” 

You gulp nervously, teetering between the idea of kicking him out or waiting to see how this all plays out. Were you really going to get high because a cute boy challenged you? You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts as you see him flick open the lighter, the smell of burning paper replacing the smell of weed in your nose. He lets it burn for a while, opening your window in the process. 

“When you take a hit, blow out of the window otherwise you’ll set off the fire alarm.” 

You mock a smile as he laughs, bringing the joint up to his lips as he takes a small inhale. You watch as the fibers of the paper burn, the weed contents turning gray. You analyze the way he takes the hit and hold it in his throat for a second before slowly blowing the cloud of smoke out of the window. 

“Your turn.” 

He passes you the joint, as your clammy hands impatiently reach for it. You look at him one more time nervously, bringing the joint up to your mouth and inhaling. You don’t know how fast you ripped it, throat burning and violently coughing as Yeonjun scrambles in your fridge to bring you a bottle of water. You chug the water to stop your coughs, handing the joint back to him as you catch your breath. 

“Nothing about that was relaxing in any way.” 

“That’s because you did it too fast. Look, watch me. You slowly inhale, don’t let the feeling of it in your throat bother you otherwise you’ll start to cough.” 

You hold a little grudge in your stare, cursing at the fact that you were so easily convinced to try the one thing you spited and how your resolve crumbles so easily before your very eyes. You watch him bring the joint up to his lips again, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat before taking another hit. This time you watch how he holds it in his mouth, counting the seconds before he blows it out. 

“Think you got it this time?”

You take the joint from his hand, silently reassuring him that you’d be fine. You try again, this time slowly inhaling. Remember his words from just a few moments ago, you let the particles settle in your throat for a moment, slightly inhaling before releasing the breath, successfully blowing the smoke out of the window. You look up at Yeonjun with big eyes and a proud smile. 

“I still don’t feel relaxed.” 

“You will in about 3 more hits and 15 minutes.” 

You continue to pass the joint to each other, careful not to rip it too fast or inhale too much. You can feel your eyes start to get a little droopy, a constant smile appearing on your face as you feel your body loosen. You feel slower but not heavy as you turn to Yeonjun and start giggling. 

“I can tell that you’re starting to feel it now. Gonna tell me you don’t feel relaxed?” 

You nod, giggling at his smile. The longer you stare at him, the cuter you think he is. Even in your high state, you couldn’t blame the weed for the attraction you felt for the red-haired man. Maybe you were starting to form a little crush. You think about the sweater he’s wearing, how his neck and collarbone are so perfectly on display, longing to be nipped at. Or the way the glasses make him look more sophisticated and smart, you did like nerdy looking boys. And the way his thick lips wrapped around the joint, eyes following his every move as he takes another drag. You couldn’t help the way you were rubbing your thighs together, the idea of his lips on yours creating a need to form within you. He looks at you, dumbfounded as he himself is now high as well. 

“How are you feeling Y/N? Do you feel good? Do you feel relaxed?” 

This time, you could blame the weed for what you say next:

“I feel great. I would feel even better if you kissed me.”

You laugh at your own comment, finding Yeonjun’s shocked expression priceless and thus further causing you to laugh. You allowed yourself to be bold, not knowing when again you’d have this opportunity. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Y/N. You’re high right now and so am I. Neither of our judgments can be trusted right now.” 

He tries to play the mature, responsible role. He was the one that got you high so he felt responsible for any and all actions made by you or towards you by himself. But the slight, ever-growing tent in his pants was giving him away, revealing that he was not as grounded in his resolve as he wanted to be.

“What? You don’t believe me? Should I prove it to you?”

You take his previous words of challenge and use it against him, playing him at his own game. You walk up to him slowly, eyes red and droopy as you stare into his. You place your hand on his chest, tippy toeing to try to reach up to his lips. 

“Help me out a little?” 

As if all rhyme and reason was thrown out the window, Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to lean down, capturing your lips with his own. He throws one arm around your waist, the other carefully holding the joint so as not to get any ash over your floor. Your hands remain on his chest as your lips move slowly in sync, breaths heavy from the temporarily shortened capacity of your lungs. You still feel a burn every time you inhale, but it’s worth it for the way Yeonjun has you feeling right now; completely relaxed and carefree. 

He pulls away for a second, grabbing your hand with his free one and placing the joint in between your lips, guiding you to take a hit before he puts it in the metal box with his other weed essentials. His eyes watch you in awe as you close your eyes to take the hit. He pulls you onto his lap as he takes a seat on your desk chair and you happily follow, hands around the nape of his neck as you play with the hairs there. You take your time holding the smoke in and he kisses you again, running his hands along your sides, squeezing as you gasp, letting the smoke out from your mouth into his. He takes the opportunity to gently slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan at the contact, grinding down a bit into his thigh. Your mouth is dry, partly due to the cotton mouth you're experiencing, and partly due to the nerves that had worked their way into your body when you decided to be bold and admit to wanting to kiss him. 

He licks the inside of your mouth before pulling away a little to suck on your tongue, teeth grazing it as he pulls away to trails kisses down your jaw and neck. You’re panting out of breath at his actions, the wetness between your legs only growing as you feel his hard-on press against the side of your thigh. You giggle as he nips a particularly ticklish spot on your neck, the effects of the weed present and causing him to giggle as well. 

“Can I kiss your neck?” 

“Well when you ask so nicely…”

He laughs, pulling away from your neck and tilting his head to the side, granting you permission to mark him up. You lean down, lightly nipping at his milky skin, biting around the area of his collarbones and he rests his hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. Your little whimpers at the contact only turn him on more, hard cock throbbing against his sweats as you eye the clear outline of them. Pulling back to look at your little marks, you’re satisfied as you pull him into your lips once again, this time more hungry. His hands that were settled on your hips move to grab your ass, squeezing as he presses you down harder on his thigh. Your moans are drowned out by his lips as the makeout becomes heavier and messier, saliva escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping down your chin. He pulls away first, admiring your red and puffy lips with a dazed smile. He stands you up, grabbing the joint and taking a big hit, holding it as his hands sweetly caress your face and he gives you another kiss, letting the smoke cascade into your mouth as you try your best to inhale and not choke. He smirks watching the excess smoke slip between your mouths, putting down the remainder of the joint and feeling you up underneath your shirt. 

“No bra?”

“I was in here all day. There was no need for it.”

You respond simply, taking a step back to fully take your shirt off, giggling as you watch his eyes open dramatically at the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened as a result of the cold air. He pushes you against your desk, leaning you back over it as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, not even bothering to get you both on the bed. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud. You moan at the contact, harshly gripping his hair as he grazed his teeth against them. He takes the chance to slide his hands down the waistband of your pants, settling just above your pussy. 

“Yeonjun…” 

Your whimpers turn him on further as he begins rubbing circles on your clit through your panties and you throw your head back at the sheer amount of pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. He switches his attention from one nipple to the other, trading his fingers up and down your slit, feeling the wetness collect on the fabric separating his fingers from your heat. You don’t realize your grip has gotten impossibly tighter, accidentally pushing his head further into your chest, not that he minded. 

“You’re rough, I like it.” 

He pulls his head away from your chest and you whine at the loss of contact, the warmth his hold brought you being replaced by the cooling of his saliva all over your boobs. He pulls you close enough to him to help you take off your pants and underwear, sitting you back down on your desk as he admires your glistening lips, sliding down both his sweats and his boxers. 

He goes over to his bag and pulls out a condom before rolling it on to his painfully hard erection. 

“You just carry condoms on you at all times?”

“It came in handy, didn’t it?” 

He smirks at your failed attempt at being snarky, grabbing your waist as he slides the head between your folds. Your arms rest on his shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as the other twiddles with the necklace he has on.  

“You tease too much…” 

Yeonjun guides you back and forth on his dick, relishing in the little yet satisfying pleasure he’s giving himself right now. One hand rests on your pelvis, thumb reaching down to circle your clit as you hiss, biting your lip to suppress the moan you desperately want to let out. 

“Please Yeonjun…” 

Your begging only made it harder for him to resist you, slowly bringing the head down to your sopping entrance, groaning as he pushes it past your walls.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Gotta stretch you out on my cock.”

You wince as he pushes himself in deeper, releasing a sigh of content as he fully sheathes himself inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, the speed of his actions constant. 

“Y-you can move now…” 

He moves slowly, still letting you adjust before moving at a more constant pace. You’re mindful of the moans pushing past your open lips, finding it hard to contain them as he sets a firm rhythm. You look down beside you and pick up what’s left of the joint. Yeonjun takes note of your actions, holding you steady with both of his hands as you grab the lighter to reignite the substance. You bring it to your lips once again, letting the effect of the weed wash over you, reveling in the heightened effect of the drug. 

You hold the joint up to Yeonjun’s mouth, smiling lazily as he takes a hit, his hips never stopping their relentless pounding into your pussy. He attaches his lips to your neck once again allowing the smoke to escape and you to stabilize yourself while his thumb goes back to circling your clit, this time much faster than before. He also speeds up thrusts, the volume of your moans increasing as his harsh thrusts knock the desk back into the wall over and over again. You’re afraid of the amount of noise you’re making, worried about whether or not your neighbors can hear the scandalous sounds coming from your room, but all worry flies out the window when Yeonjun leans you back, bringing your hips up to a whole new angle for him. 

“Yeonjun!!” 

You scream as his tip hits your spot so deliciously, legs wrapping around him, pulling him that much closer. He chuckles as your face scrunches up, indicative of your close release. He can’t help but to move faster, pistoning his hips at an incredible speed, one that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as a gush of liquid comes rushing out of you. 

“Yeah that’s it, squirt all over my cock for me. Let it all out…” 

You’re so high that you barely even register the fact that you just squirted all over him, creating a mess on your floor. Your feelings only seem to intensify as the overstimulation kicks in, sensitive walls clenching down on him as your second orgasm approaches you quickly, his fingers still working your clit. 

“I’m… I’m gonna cum again… Y-yeonjun please…” 

Your whines come out broken and sporadic, not sure how much more you can take. 

“Hold on for me a little longer baby, I’m almost there.” 

You nod as you pull his head back down to you, kissing him one last time as he nails his final thrust, hips stilling in you as he feels himself fill the condom. Your pants and sighs fill the now smokey room. 

“I didn’t know you could squirt like that baby girl. You’re so fucking hot”

He carefully pulls out of you, making sure not to let any cum seep out of the condom. You wince as he pulls out, legs feeling like jelly as you release him from your hold. After discarding the condom, he quickly reaches for the napkins you have sitting on top of the fridge, cleaning you up before kneeling on the cold floor to wipe up any remnants of your release. 

“You look good when you’re on your knees,”

You say playfully, biting your lip as you watch him clean your floor. 

“I was right.” 

Your head feels empty and you’re slightly tingly. The high you were having definitely intensified the feeling you were having during sex but it did nothing to help jog your memory. 

“What are you talking about” 

“Have you already forgotten”

You shrug as you jump off the desk, using his shoulder to help ground yourself as your legs recover from their jelly-like state and proceed to put your clothes back on. 

“I told you that smoking would help you feel more relaxed. I guess in your case it also helped you be more bold.” 

Your usual eye roll was replaced by a giggle. 

“Did I really say that? I guess I had no idea what I was talking about?” 

He laughs with you as he finishes cleaning the floor, pulling his pants back on before putting his weed materials away, shirtless. 

You keep staring at him, realizing that you were too high and too needy to notice his toned abs before. 

“I can send you a picture of them if you want? You don’t have to keep staring at me like that.” 

He pulls his sweater over his head to which you pout, upset that your view was now covered. 

“Relax, you’ll see them again the next time we do this.” 

“Next time?” 

You couldn’t say that you hated the feeling of being high, but maybe you weren’t in the right mind to be making decisions like that. 

“Yeah? Next time we work on the project we can get high and do this again. It was fun.” 

He puts his stuff away in his bag, leaving it on your inflatable chair. He wasn’t just gonna leave you after fucking you whilst you were still high. 

“We got a pretty good portion of the project done today. We don’t even have to meet up to finish out individual parts.” 

You say, reminding him about your 6 hour grind to finish as much of the project as you could. 

“What are you trying to say?” 

He says while fixing his glasses and hair in your mirror.

“I’m saying the next time we meet we don’t have to do work.”

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror, his smirk hard to hide at your insinuation.

“You dirty girl. So bold when you’re high, only want me over to have sex.” 

“Well… to have sex and get high! I do enjoy your presence but I’ve never felt so good before. That was like heaven.” 

Even though he didn’t know you that well, he could tell the effects of the weed were still strong on you, watching you yap away, knowing you probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning. He just laughs at your comment as you put your stuff away. 

You watch as he goes back to his seat, moving his bag back to the floor. You walk up to him, sitting down on his lap. You tangle your fingers in his hair, staring at his lips again, which are also swollen. His eyes follow your gaze and he throws his head back in laughter, scaring you a little as you flinch at unexpected sound. 

“You’re still horny?” 

“What makes you say that?”

You play dumb as if you weren’t just drooling over his lips. 

“But we just put our clothes back on!” 

He whines, fixing your position so that you’re properly straddling him. 

“Yeah but, you aren’t gonna reject me right? Not when I’m high and needy because of you?” 

You feign your best soft voice and puppy eyes, trying your best to hold back from laughing in his face at your own antics. Yeonjun takes your face in his hand, giving you a sweet smile.

“No of course not, that would make me a monster.”

He says, pulling you back in for another kiss as you settle in. Maybe smoking a little bit of weed wasn’t so bad after all. 

[the-universal-sun]

Hii, I've been reading a lot of you're writing andi love them so much!!! If you feel comfortable enough and only if you want to do you think you could do a sick agere? I forgot if you already done one so if you did you can just ignore this, but if not then can you do one where stan or Ford gets sick while out on the Stan O war and regress from it, thank you, again you don't have to do it or anything thank you!!!

Thank you so much! And of course I'd do it, it was they were both such lovely prompts! I hope you're still here, both of you. Sorry it took so long, and sorry it's been so long since I posted last, I've not been feeling super good myself these past few days. But! I'm feeling loads better now, maybe some rest does do one good! I hope your stomach ache feels better, those are the absolute pits, and I'm sorry you got one.

I have Ford use "stummy" here because I have a tendency to say that so I wanted him to as well. How do we feel about that word/smaller and babier words in general, yay or nay?

I hope you all stay safe out there and in this weather, drink warm and eat warm and bundle up in you need to! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

As always, I welcome any helpful comments and criticisms on my writings.

Thank you for being here!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Mmmmmmmh. Buddy!" Ford whined, curled up in Stanley's bed, one hand clutching his stomach and the other his head. He felt terrible. Worse than terrible. He felt awful. His stummy felt like it was rolling down hill, queasy and with sharp pains panging around periodically. His head felt too big, like his brain was going to burst out from all the pressure he felt. And he wanted to sleep, but he couldn't because everything hurt. He hated it. He hated being sick. It wasn't even his fault! Not really, he just got excited about seeing a Kraken that he stayed out in the rain longer than he should have. Stanley can't blame him for being curious, now can he? Not when he's the one encouraging him.

Ford sneezed, his stomach and head rocking. He should have listed to his brother. He sniffled, both from being sick and from holding back his tears. He wanted Stan, his Buddy. He also wanted Dr. Mittens, but he can't until his friend is properly suited up in scrubs and a mask, Ford didn't want Dr. Mittens to get sick like him. That's where Stan was, but he was taking too long, he looked at the clock on the side table. Five whole minutes!? They both should have been here four minutes ago. He opened his mouth to croak for Stan again before he appears right in front of him, slipping on his glasses. When did those get taken off?

"Hold your horses there, Poindexter, I'm here and I've got your little friend. Don't worry, he's all trussed up in that Doctor gear you made us get for him." Stan handed Dr. Mittens, all suited up and ready to safely cuddle Ford through his sickness, to him. He snatched him up, curling his body around his plush friend as his head pounds and pounds. He wants to cry, he thinks to himself, whining against his toy, he hates this so badly. Ford didn't realize he was crying until a tissue is wiping his face dry and Stan is helping him sit up.

"Noooo, don't wan'na get up," He whined through tears, hiccupping and trying to lay back down. Can't Stanley see he's sick?

"Shhh, I know. You want to lay down, I get it, trust me, Buddy, I do. But if you want to feel better, you have to take-take this, uh," Stan hesitated, staring at the warm tea that has a dose of dissolvable Tylenol in it. He hated even talking about medicine, but he has to, he has to take care of Ford. "This tea has some medicine in it-"

"Ugh, icky." a whine interrupted him. And yeah, Stan silently agreed, icky is right.

"No, not icky, Stanford, medicine to help your head feel better. Relieve your sinuct pressure or whatever it's called." Stanley propped Ford up against him. Ford made a face at the word medicine, he hated the taste and feeling of medicine, it made his throat feel icky and greasy, and it tasted to awful. "Listen, it's one o' those sweet berry teas, with some honey, so it should taste sweet enough for you taste buds." Well, Ford thought, honey is good for fighting on the inside germs that make people sick, and he does like fruit teas, so maybe if he can't taste the medicine, it will be fine. But, he clutches his stummy again as pain burst through it, there's one issue.

"Buddy, my stummy hurts, don' know, know if, the tea-" Ford hurt too much to form sentences, whining crying as his head and stummy feel even worse. He hated this. He hates it, he hates it, he hates it. He could feel himself cry, his face felt hot and his head hurt even worse! He just wants to sleep.

"Hey now, Buddy, I'm here, good ol' Stan's right here. Come on, shhh," Stan gathered Ford close and rocked him, one hand rubbing his stomach as he spoke lowly in his brothers ear. It seemed feeling small made Ford unable to hide how out of it and cruddy being sick made him. Stan hated it, how much pain his brother showed he was in, his tears, his sick whines. But on the other hand, Stan could finally take proper care of a sick Ford. Win some, lose some in his opinion. The ends outweigh the means blah blah blah. He was just glad his brother was more receptive and demanding when he's sick and Little, his brother never usually let him take care of him out of some guilt-ridden mentality about being the one to erase Stan's mind. Which is undeserved guilt, but they're working on it. For right now, he just wanted to keep his Little Buddy from crying and get some-ugh-medicine in his to soothe his pains. "Your stummy hurts? Probably from eating a whole bag of jelly beans before bed, right?" He didn't wait for a response, he didn't want to tease his brother too badly when he's regressed, he can't always understand teasing and jokes then. "It's okay, this tea is going to help your head and stummy, and you might even get a nap out of it!" Stan released a strained chuckle, still rubbing Ford's aching stomach, hoping it really did ease his pains. Just because he could better help his brother didn't mean he liked seeing him like this.

Ford felt the cup against his lips and opened them, slowly sipping the tea. It wasn't icky, it didn't taste the best, but if it helped him stop hurting and can make him sleep, then he'd drink. He felt Stan wipe his tears away again as he took small sips out of the plastic cup-it was his special moth cup-slowly so he didn't spill anything. Once finished, he's laid back down in bed, Stan had taken his glasses so he didn't squish them. He felt sort of better, maybe? His head didn't hurt as bad and his stummy didn't feel like it was tumbling down a hill, more like rolling down one. It was an approvement, more so when a hot cloth was put on his face right over his eyes and forehead. Ford sighed and settled further into Stan's bed as the blankets were tucked tightly around him and Dr. Mittens and his weighted one with all the constellations was tucked in over all the rest. Ford felt so comfy and cozy and warm.

"Buddy, I, mmmmmy head doesn't hurt..."Ford trailed off into mumbles. Huh, the tea must be working already, Ford felt so tired, but his stummy and head didn't hurt anymore, so he could actually get asleep now. No, to sleep, he could get to sleep. He couldn't keep his eyes open, one slowly closing, then the other. Ford mumbled more and leaned his head slightly into his brother's hand, the one that swept through his hair. When did that happen? Ford couldn't be bothered to think about that, not when he was so warm and cozy with the Best Brother and Buddy in the world beside him and taking care of him and petting his hair.

The rocking of their boat lulled Ford further into sleep, his stomach settled, his head cleared, and his brother and best friend right beside him.

[expresso-bean]

Then Man Out of Time [A Shadamy and Silver Story]: Chapter 26

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Amy Rose

Description: It has been seven years of peace following the grueling war with Eggman and his army. Though it took time to rebuild what they have lost, life for the Freedom Fighters could not be better. Whether it's finding love or trying to run from their past, celebrating post-war times has been different for each them.

All is well until a silver hedgehog comes knocking on Amy Rose's door to deliver the tragic news about an incredible force that seems to be the cause of the future's destruction.

Will anyone believe the mysterious hedgehog's cry for help? Or will he be left to fight for his future alone? Read to find out!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k

POV: Shadow the Hedgehog

Masterlist ❀ Ch.1 ❀ Ch.2 ❀ Ch.3 ❀ Ch.4 ❀ Ch.5 ❀ Ch.6 ❀ Ch.7 ❀ Ch.8 ❀ Ch.9 ❀ Ch.10 ❀ Ch.11 ❀ Ch.12 ❀ Ch.13 ❀ Ch.14 ❀ Ch.15 ❀ Ch.16 ❀ Ch.17 ❀ Ch.18 ❀ Ch.19 ❀ Ch.20 ❀ Ch.21 ❀ Ch.22 ❀ Ch.23 ❀ Ch.24 ❀ Ch.25

I looked down at the bowl of smushed tomatoes that I had cruelly bludgeoned to a messy pulp. Whatever was in the bowl would hardly considered to be a sauce.

'It looks like a massacre,' I wanted to whisper. 'Maybe I need to add another tomato?'

I looked beside me to S opening the rice cooker and lifting up the vapor plate. He carefully poured the contents of the plate into a pool of brown sauce that he'd been preparing for the past ten minutes. The sweet smell of the vegetables made my mouth begin to water slightly.

'Anyone could see that his abilities put mine to shame,' I continued to smoosh the contents of the bowl with so much force that the juices began to stain my white gloves a bright red color. 'Not that I would ever make that known to him.'

I put down the fork I was using and grabbed the salt from the spice rack on the countertop. I unscrewed the top of the shaker and began lightly sprinkling the salt in.

'How much should I even put in?'

I shook the shaker a few more times, still feeling unsatisfied. 

'I did say that I like salty things. Maybe she expects it to be salty?' I shook the shaker harder for a few more seconds until I could no longer see the tomatoes anymore. A crusty, pinkish layer was all that was visible. 'I think that is enough?'

"How is the sauce coming along?"

As he looked down at the content of the bowl, his eyebrows raised. I did my best to not look insulted. Though, I knew it was warranted. 

"I've only just started."

"Can I try?" I nodded. He took a fork and slushed the 'sauce' around before putting some in his mouth. His lips scrunched up as tears pricked at his eyes. "Ooh, that's pretty salty." He heaved out, placing the fork onto a small plate I had set aside for the utensils. "How much did you put in there?"

"Aren't they supposed to be salty?"

S shook his head. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and stood next to me by the sink. I gave up smashing the tomatoes from the bowl. It was nothing but a slop of juice and pulp.

"Not like that," He poured himself some water straight from the sink. I would have told him about the cold, purified water in the refrigerator. But his remarks on my culinary skills made him worthy of the lukewarm tap water he was going to consume. "Where is Amy anyway?" He gulped down the water so fast that he nearly choked at his first inhalation of fresh air. "Ow, maybe I shouldn't have drank it that fast."

'You think?'

S doubled over, holding his side.

'He...is more strange than usual,' S grunted again. He tried to say something through his teeth, but failed. 'Or is he dying?'

"You made your stomach cramp from drinking the water too fast. Steady your breathing and rub the area. If you panic, it will make the pain worse."

S unfolded himself and with a shaky arm he grabbed onto the countertop and hoisted himself up. His body shivered as he tried to breath.

"G-got it..."

He rubbed his side slowly. He bit back grunts of pain in between rubs. I stood there watching him repeat the same process over and over again.

'He's so helpless sometimes.'

"You think I'd be used to it by now. My stomach always get sensitive from traveling."

A hum in response is all I could muster. Just watching him frail up like that was enough for me to pity him and allow him to air out his story.

'No one knows anything about him other than the role he plays in a future wasteland. This could be the chance to try and see who he really is.'

"I was only fourteen when I began the practice trial runs. None of us knew what to expect from it. One the day of my first one, my father gathered the whole neighborhood to send me off. This couple prepared some soup for me made from rice noodles and a wild boar her partner had captured. It scared my father a bit because meals like that are only supposed to be served on special occasion like if someone is born or if someone dies," S' interrupted himself by coughing. He grunted, holding his side and trying to maintain his posture. "S-sorry..." He whispers.

"Your straining yourself."

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm almost done," He breathes in and out slowly before continuing. "I was meant to stay for half a day since the time device needs to be in idle for twelve hours before it is used again. When I finally got the chance to eat some of the food, well, it didn't go so well for me when I jumped back into my current time."

'The watch's ability to allow him to jump through time puts momentous strain on his body? I may have been underestimating his competency.'

"I learned the hard way why you should travel on a full stomach. I still can't eat pork belly to this day. My stomach refuses," He laughed. "I can eat noodles funnily enough. It was hard at first, but I got over that hurdle."

I hummed again only to indicate I was still paying attention to his incessant rambles. I could hear his breathing slowly going back to normal the more he spoke. The breathing technique I showed him seemed to be working.

"So far, I've been snacking on the instant noodles you guys have. They're amazing!" He gleamed. "It sucks, though. The more I enjoy the innovations of this timeline, the more I think about all the starving people this could have helped in the future."

I then turned to look at him. Even through his pain, he sounded confident in his ranting, not caring if he had an audience.

Glimpsing at him was like putting up a mirror to my past. All those moments after escaping my prison, standing alone plotting revenge, monologuing to anything in my sight.

'That feeling. I know it so well,' I kept my mouth shut, not even bothering to look at him. 'Why is he telling me this?'

"I don't mean to ramble. Talking distracts from the pain. Tails taught me that."

"He was your uncle, right?"

S looked conflicted for a moment. With his body still doubled over, he managed to smile softly.

"Tails raised me, along with Cream and my father. The three of them taught me a lot."

"I'm sorry." I meant my apology with all sincerity. A pang of guilt shot through my body. It wasn't until now I realized how much we truly have in common. It was in that moment of my weakness I realized this was the most I have spoken to him since he got to this timeline.

'I know what it is like to lose yourself for so long,' I sighed. Memories flowed back to me as hard as a wave crashed against rocks on the shore. I forgot how hard it was to experience all that loss on my own. How heavy the burden of loss is to a lonely person. 'He lost everything. Through the impossible, he found a way to travel through time to repair everything that had been broken. To help people that he did not even get to meet in his own lifetime.'

The more I stare at the red hue of the sauce, the more I think of Rose. I would not be standing here making a mockery of culinary art without her kindness and belief that I had something stronger within me than revenge and hate. She found love still resided in me—love for creatures and beings alike.

Love for the place Maria adored and called home.

I swore I would die to protect it. I would die to protect Rose and the people she loves. But the one person who could help is the same person I have been pushing away since he arrived.

'He has a good heart. I have not been exercising the kindness both of them fostered within me.'

"I..." When our eyes met, my voice trailed off. There was a familiarity within them.

'Where have I seen them before?'

I cleared my throat and tried to brush my question off. S tilted his head as he, no doubt, waited for me to finish my sentiment.

"Yeah?" He questioned, still slumped over.

"You asked earlier where Rose went. She is at the store, grabbing some refreshments. She mentioned some things she wanted you to try."

"Really!" He gasped, and I flinched at his eager response. "I hope she gets the fruit stuff again. Those things are GOOD!" 

"Keep yourself composed before you go on and hurt yourself again."

"Oh, you're right," He chuckled. I could tell his voice was slightly strained from his groaning in pain earlier. "What is that stuff I ate anyway?"

"It's sauce."

"THAT is the sauce?" S covered his mouth and mumbled out what I think was meant to be an apology. "I didn't mean to say it like that. It, um, has a good color to it."

'So my suspicions were right. This is wrong,' I put what I had been clenching in my fist down back in the bowl and sighed. 'I've never made anything like this before, I have no choice but to...'

"S?"

"Huh?" He hummed.

'Ask him for help.'

"I need..." My voice trailed off. The words were stuck in my throat, which was now dry.

'Why is my chest so heavy? It's just a request. The worst he could say is no,'

"You need...?" He questioned, a nervous smile on his face. I could tell I was making him uncomfortable with the silence between us.

'I retract that. The worst thing is asking him of all people for a request.'

"I need to learn how to make a pasta dish,"

'Finally. That was...hard.'

"It's for Amy. She deserves to have something nice to eat in these times."

My face grew hot with embarrassment. 'Why did I phrase it so strange?'

"Oh, that's easy! I'd love to help!"

'Really? Just like that? Has it always been this easy to ask for favors?"

"Perfect timing, too. I helped Amy pick up some groceries the other day. We can make the sauce tonight. Do you want me to show you how to make it?"

"That would be...a lot of help."

"Cool," S smiled, moving away from the counter and stretching his body upright. A few of his joints popped as his back adjusted itself. "Let's wait till she goes to bed; it shouldn't take long to make, so you'll still be able to get some rest."

"Hm. I agree."

'Never in my life would I put myself in this predicament, but for Rose, I'd do this and more.'

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

CAPE KIDS ART??? ON MY BLOG?? Yes. (this isn’t lore accurate ik this image isn’t very good with the lighting and stuffbrhshfhjs) anyways Leo Luo beloved she’s so interesting to me (also the reason she doesn’t have her bone earring is cuz this is before?? idk man)

Leo is a character played by @paging-possum!! In their friend’s tttpg (i think) called Cape Kids! Anyhow. Hi Nat oc art jumpscare be upon ye!!! BOO!!/J (shgdjdhrhdjdh now i’ll ramble about jadele in your inbox/hj)

[nyx-xp]

ok look no matter what, i think ill always be obsessed with dl-6. i know, its kinda overused at this point, but the whole thing is so amazing

like,, miles obviously didn’t know he was innocent, but gregory didnt either. when they channeled him he said it was the bailiff (forgot his name srry) even though there was no proof, because he wanted to protect his son. and the result of a child convinced he is guilty for the death of his dad, who even after death tried to find a way to reassure him he was innocent??? just- the concept of this relationship is fascinating, and honestly has so much potential.

and then you add von karma, and the fact he was not only the murderer of the father but the adopter of the son??? just makes everything gets better (worse)

dl-6 will forever live in my head and in my heart bcs the overwhelming guilt at least two of the three must have felt!! (depends on your headcannons about manfred ofc, maybe he was slightly guilty or smth) the psychological impact and the aftermath of it? amazing. maybe its not perfectly written, nothing is, but its fascinating and makes me want to dissect all three’s brains to see the effects this would have caused.

[dynamitekansai]

THE USOS REUNITE WWE SMACKDOWN (OCTOBER 25, 2024)

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[grinchwrapsupreme]

[heartorbit]

NICCORI CORI CORI CORI CORIANDER

[outlying-hyppocrate]

well. did you fucking miss me.

[theplatypusblue]

Like ok Lloyd has lived his entire life at the whims of prophecies and fate and destiny and all that. I think he’s accepted the fact that sometimes, things will just ~happen~ to him and his loved ones that are out of his control — such is life as The Chosen One. At this point he’s kind of “at peace” with it if that’s how you’d describe it.

But why don’t we just rip that assumption away from him? This nebulous concept of "destiny" isn't actually responsible for everything. Let’s make someone responsible for this. Let’s say everything can be traced back to this one fucking guy, this one fucking guy is responsible. Maybe it was on purpose, or maybe it was on accident; the bottom line is, it’s all that guy’s fault. Sure, things were still fucked up before this realization, but now things are different. It's personal now. Now there's an actual person Lloyd can blame for everything.

I'm losing my train of thought but essentially: Local guy who’s good at punching people has shitty life, resigned to the fact that he can't change this… until he learns that there is a Guy He Can Punch About It. And then he starts Punching That Guy A Whole Lot :)

[chiropteracupola]

historically accurate trip to clifton's cafeteria!!!

[progress shots under the readmore]

[dykedvonte]

Discussing the NCR (Fallouts NV's Military Industrial Complex)

Fallout regularly discusses the idea of the military, its faults, its strengths, and most importantly, the psycho-social aspects of it regarding those who are members. We have seen a direct critique of the military generalized through the Enclave's overt nationalism, the hoarding of resources and indoctrination through the Brotherhood of Steel, and an almost eerily modern critique of the whole military-industrial complex through the NCR in New Vegas. In these series of posts, I will be focusing primarily if not exclusively on the last one.

The NCR we see in the game is strictly the military side of things and the depiction of active occupation during a time of eminent war, conflicting factions, and resource scarcity. It is in this we are missing a major factor that negatively affects the view of the NCR in the game and out: Civilian life along with citizen opinion on the military. While we do get Mojave civilian opinion on the military (often neutral or negative) we do not get those who are New California Republic citizens, not those who actually discuss the military more so not understanding the importance of the occupation and the President's choices.

We do not see how life is regularly lived by the average citizen as we have not seen New California in New Vegas, though, we get words and glimpses that the people are relatively content in the growing country minus the fact many people are not happy with the choice of encroaching on the Mojave. This most similarly reflects it's real-world application that many civilian citizens reject acquisition and war due to the economic effects it has on the country and the general violence/loss associated.

In this, we come to an issue of losing a perspective that is unique to the NCR as a military representative. The Brotherhood is notably a place where its active members are intertwined with its efforts, the young are raised to be scribes, paladins, etc... To where even if one is not fighting for The Brotherhood, they are still intertwined, it's propaganda is the life. The Enclave is even more cut n' dry in that it is mostly made up of government representatives. It is a group even smaller than the former, even more selective and intertwined that their propaganda IS a form of Eugenics. The NCR is unique in that there is a clear distinction between what is the military force, the civilian population, and the choice if one wants to be a part of the former.

There is a distinct difference in the cultures of the factions you are born into and those you must enlist or join (forcibly for some). While this is a long-winded way to get into the actual discussion I want to facilitate throughout these posts I wanted an initial background post to understand the aspects I am and am not exploring and explaining along with a hub post to link everything I intend to discuss in the coming days and weeks, starting with:

Why Do People Join the NCR?

...which will be discussed and linked back here like everything else regarding to this topic.

Links: TBA