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the-girl-who-didnt-smile · 9 months ago

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“BIG PAPA” LEGBA

The man, the myth, the legend.

This is the leader of the Loa, who as I mentioned before are just the gods of Hazbin Hotel. Their leader is really fucking strong.

“Big Papa” is my favorite because all of the Loa are complete bullshit, but he’s the most bullshit of them all.

I think I cooked up something really special with him. I cannot wait to share him with the world.

This man is called “Big Papa” Legba. Everything about this man is completely outrageous.

He is completely batshit insane.

This is how I envision this man gets introduced into Hazbin Hotel:

So you just hear this rumor that there exists a man in Hazbin Hotel who is so fucking strong that he can rip apart the entire universe with his bare hands. And you think he’s going to be this really scary guy. You think he is going to be really serious and that he is going to look completely terrifying, but no.

The most powerful man in all of Hazbin Hotel is just a jazzman from the Harlem Renaissance.

He’s the jazziest jazzman to ever jazz.

He just fucking waltzes in, he makes a microphone materialize out of nowhere and he just starts fucking singing.

This happens in a context when it is completely inappropriate for Black Santa Claus to break out into song. He does not care. He’s also got the craziest pipes ever.

He’s literally got the best voice out of anyone in Hazbin Hotel, which is fucking insane because the cast of Hazbin is so packed when it comes to vocals.

This man can sing. He can dance, and he can play every musical instrument.

He introduces himself with a musical number. His musical number is called “You Can Call Me ‘BIG’ Papa!”

It’s a jazz number.

This has to be one of the best tracks out of any season of Hazbin Hotel. It has to be the catchiest jazz number ever.

It’s just a tribute to the Harlem Renaissance, and Alastor’s little musical number in the pilot. He brings that level of mania, dialed up to eleven. Dialed up to a thousand.

I tried to pour all of my mania into this guy, and I can be a little manic at times.

“Big Papa” Legba is just a walking tribute to the Harlem Renaissance and bullshit anime superpowers, especially One Piece. He’s basically everything I love, condensed into one man.

This guy is so much fun.

He wears a bright red zoot. He carries a magic gold staff with a huge coil in. He can turn the staff into a gorgeous snake that he wraps around his body and he can turn it into any musical instrument. He smokes a pipe, which he can turn into saxophone and other silly things. He can just turn someone a little violin and start playing. He does all of these things during his little musical number.

The recurring verse in his song “You Can Call Me BIG-” and when he says the word “Papa!”, he slams his magic staff into the ground. Magic gold sparks fly everywhere, and the word “BOOM” appears in pitch black behind him, filling up the entire screen. But that’s not just the word “BOOM”. What he did just there is he tore a hole in the universe in the shape of the word “BOOM”, and then he closed it. Because he can fucking do that.

This how strong this guy is. He is the man that is powerful enough to rip apart the entire universe with his bare hands, and he loves doing it too. He rips holes in the universe all the goddamn time.

The way this man moves, walks, and talks, you get the sense that he is enormously powerful. You are correct. Everywhere he walks, magic gold sparks are flying off of him, and he sounds like thunder when he walks and talks. He is the magic man in a bright red zoot. This man is just overflowing with golden magic and charisma. His physical form can barely contain his massive reserves of pure magic.

He loves using his powers to do all sorts of crazy shit. He takes off his head and starts juggling it. He makes his arms and legs fly off like Buggy D. Clown. It goes without saying that he can do everything that Alastor can do, but can do way more than that. He has every busted Devil Fruit power, and it’s not like he can’t swim. He uses his voodoo magic to force people to listen to jazz, because he fucking loves jazz, and he forces you to start dancing to it to.

At one point, he changes the entire art style of the show.

Also, he loves using his powers to do little quirky, mischievous things. One of the little quirky things he does with his powers is dog-taming. He can tame any dog, no matter how vicious it is, and turn it against its master. Dogs are his favorite animal. He’s got little bones in his hat, not because he has death-related powers, but because he just fucking loves dogs and they fucking love him back too. He uses his powers to make bones materialize out of nowhere so he can give them to dogs. He likes to transform the orb at the top of his staff into a bulldog head. He loves to transform himself into a bulldog too.

On the subject of his staff, he also likes to transform the magic gold orb into a sun. He normally does this when he's about to do something NUTS with his powers, or just for a bit of visual flair.

He likes to shapeshift with his powers, and he likes to transform other people too, to disarm them. He probably doesn’t need to disarm you anyways, because he’s probably way the fuck more powerful than you.

He is just a very mischievous, jazzy man.

This man always has a shit-eating grin, but it’s like a really infectious shit-eating grin. The way he smiles, you look at him, and you kind of want to start smiling too. Unlike Alastor, he only ever smiles when he’s actually happy. He’s just happy almost all of the time. He’s just a jolly old man who fucking loves jazz, and he’s here to have a good time.

He’s also just about the most powerful thing that ever existed and ever will exist.

So you might be looking at this guy and wondering “Why is he a One Piece character?” Because, in Voodoo mythology, Papa Legba (as in, the actual deity) is like this mischievous old man who wears a straw hat. He smokes a pipe and he loves dogs. He assumes the form of an old man so you think he’s more feeble than he actually, but he’s actually like the most powerful and most important deity in all of voodoo. He’s a little devious in this regard. That is why “Big Papa” Legba (as in, my attempt to turn this deity into a batshit insane anime character) is just Monkey D. Garp with the most insane voodoo magic you have ever seen in your entire goddamn life.

You cannot convince me that “Big Papa” Legba would not make the greatest addition to the cast of Hazbin Hotel.

“BIG PAPA” IN MY DERANGED FANFICTION

So in my deranged fanfiction, “Big Papa” is 100% the most important OC I have introduced here, because he’s Alastor’s surrogate father figure. He popped into Alastor’s life when he was like twelve years old and filled the void left following the deaths of both of his parents. He fucking loved Alastor’s mom. He taught Alastor everything he knows about voodoo magic. He’s the reason Alastor is as insane as he is. It’s this fucking guy.

Alastor fascinates “Big Papa” because Alastor’s entire existence is extremely improbable. In my fanfiction, Alastor is not just this mixed race Creole dude, he is also FTM trans and the child of the most evil guy and the most virtuous woman ever. He stands at the very crossroads of Black and White, Male and Female, and most importantly: Good and Evil. “Big Papa” is like this ancient, immortal god who has existed for millennia. Human lives are like these little specks flash by him in the time it takes for him to blink. In the time it takes for him to blink, Alastor is just going to be dead, and he will have missed this once-in-a-lifetime chance to study the person who stood at the very crossroads of Race, Gender, and Morality.

Also, as I mentioned, he fucking loved Alastor’s mom. Alastor’s mom was like the most virtuous and pious woman ever. She built up an enormous fortune of goodwill with these uber-powerful beings. These guys who are literally just the gods of Hazbin Hotel. They all loved her, and her dying wish was for them to protect her child. So now the most powerful god of them all is just like following Alastor around and keeping an eye on him and shit. Alastor probably would have died as a teenager if “Big Papa” didn’t have his back.

“Big Papa” thinks that just by tracking Alastor, he can learn about humanity itself. He sees Alastor as a such a improbability that he stands at the very crossroads of existence. For “Big Papa” is the god of the spiritual Crossroads, and he is a very curious god. There is no other god more captured by the existence of human lives than he.

Anyways, the best part about “Big Papa” Legba is his powers, which is what I really want to talk about. They are the most outrageous thing about this very outrageous man.

“BIG PAPA” LEGBA’S POWERS

“Big Papa” Legba’s power level is just completely fucking insane.

In Voodoo, Papa Legba (the actual deity) is called “The Doorkeeper” and he is the deity of spiritual crossroads. This is my attempt to translate these attributes into completely insane, bullshit anime superpowers.

“Big Papa” Legba wields the powers of Dimensional Manipulation, and “Crossroads”. These are both really good powers.

Both of these powers are completely fucking broken.

This is what it is like trying to fight this guy:

So he starts the battle by just expanding to whatever size he needs to be. He can just instantly become whatever size he needs to be, but if he is not in danger, he likes to take his time doing this. He is probably going to start dancing and singing while doing this too. Once he’s the size he needs to be, he drills his magic staff into the ground and a huge, pitch black void forms underneath him.

It is important to note that his staff does not need to make contact with the ground for this attack to activate. He’s just picking a point in space-time and choosing to make that the center of his attack.

If you fall into this void, you’re super dead.

So you’re thinking “I’ll just stay out of this void”, but this void has an insane gravitational pull. It’s basically a black hole.

Even if you can somehow resist the enormous force behind this gravitational pull, “Big Papa” can just teleport next to you and throw you into this void. He can just turn his arm into a rubber hose and throw you in. There are a million different goofy ways this man can force you into this void. And once you’re in, you just die.

This void looks completely pitch black, unless you are standing directly above. Then you can see what is actually happening.

“Big Papa” is just collapsing all three dimensional objects that enter this void into two dimensional space. It’s just “the paper” from the Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy. It's actually a stronger version of the paper, because he can literally make it any size he wants and there's no spaceship fast enough to save an ORDINARY HUMAN from this attack! This is a near instantaneous attack! This is his weakest and slowest attack. He always opens with this because just wants to see who can survive his weakest slowest attack, and he loves toying with his opponents.

So you’re thinking to yourself, “I’m a shapeshifter. I’m just going to shapeshift into a two-dimensional object so Papa’s dimensional attack doesn’t kill me.” First of all, you probably cannot shapeshift fast enough to dodge this. Moreover, Papa selects three properties when he uses this attack: a center, a radius, and an angle. The angle is not fixed to the angle his staff makes with the center point of this attack. If you are not perfectly aligned to the angle of this two-dimensional plane he creates, he does not gently rotate you into the correct orientation. You get ripped by this one! The odds that you correctly guess the angle he selects is basically zero (his Battle IQ is REALLY high!!!) This is a really strong attack he’s opening with.

If you can somehow survive getting all your three dimensional matter UNRAVELED and CRUSHED into two dimensional space, now he goes in the opposite direction and explodes your ass into four dimensional confetti.

You might be wondering what it means to get exploded into four dimensional confetti. So you know how a piece of paper is basically a two dimensional object. If you grab the top of the paper and pull it along the z-axis in one direction, while grabbing the bottom and pulling it in the opposite z-axis direction, you rip that paper in half. That’s what he’s doing to your ass, but in four dimensions. This attack rips every three dimensional object to pieces.

This is a pretty good power.

“Big Papa” can do this because he’s the Doorkeeper of the Dimensions.

He can also crush you down into one dimensional space or explode you into higher dimensions. But his favorites are turning you into a pretty two dimensional picture, or four dimensional confetti. This man will literally just instant transmission to an uninhabited solar system, unravel and collapse all of its three dimensional matter into two dimensional space, then shrink that down like a PNG to make his next jazz album cover. He can turn the entire galaxy into four dimensional confetti and put that in his next music video.

If you are one of the few who is completely immune to dimensional attacks, then he uses his next power. This power is called “Crossroads”. “Crossroads” is when “Big Papa” claps his hands and shouts the word “CROSSROADS!!” This attack splits all of your atoms apart because it sends all your protons flying in one direction and all your neutrons flying in the opposite direction. “Big Papa” does not have to shout “CROSSROADS!!” to use the attack “Crossroads”, he just likes doing that. This attack activates once his palms make contact with each other. While he does have to clap his hand to activate this attack, as you can imagine this man can clap his hands very fast.

This is a really fast attack. The center of this attack is the point where his palms make contact with each other, and if it was not obvious, this is a spherical attack (in three dimensional space). He picks the center and radius of this attack and it activates almost instantaneously.

In theory, it is possible to dodge the attack “Crossroads”, but you cannot dodge it by stepping to the side. The only way to dodge this is to back up really fast, or to just teleport. But you probably cannot teleport fast enough to dodge this.

If you somehow manage to dodge this, “Big Papa” just keeps spamming “Crossroads” until it hits you. The probability that you dodge three rounds of “Crossroads” is basically zero. He can just instant transmission to wherever he needs to be to kill your ass with this attack.

If anyone is still alive after Papa’s void attack and three rounds of “Crossroads”, “Big Papa” just turns them into party balloons. He jump ropes with them a little bit, and then goes back to doing whatever he was doing before.

This man is a whole ass problem.

You can send armies full of millions of super-powered men at this guy, and they’re all dead in less than two minutes. And most of that time was just Papa expanding at the very beginning. You can form an army out of every canon character in the Hazbin Hotel universe and he no-diffs this army in less than thirty seconds. I don’t even think he needs to use “Crossroads” to kill all of them. I think they’re all dead after his first dimensional attack.

“BIG PAPA” GETS SERIOUS

Let’s say you can survive Papa’s void, three rounds of “Crossroads”, and getting turned into party balloons, because you are also a god. If you are also unimaginably strong and going to battle with “Big Papa”, then he gets serious.

The real fight begins.

“Big Papa” starts using all sorts of insane dimensional manipulation powers. He does not just wield the power of dimensional manipulation, he is the master of dimensional manipulation. He has completely optimized this power for maximum destruction.

This is like trying to fight a loony toon, but the loony toon is also manipulating the dimensions all around you to move your ass around too. It is basically impossible to land a hit on “Big Papa” when he gets serious. Also he’s just constantly firing “Crossroads” at you while he is doing this.

“Big Papa” can use “Crossroads” in all sorts of creative ways. For you see “Crossroads” is not restricted to splitting protons from neutrons. “Crossroads” is a really powerful magic attack where you target two parts of an object and split them apart from each other. “Big Papa” just defaults “protons” and “neutrons” because this completely obliterates pretty much everything in three dimensional space. But he can modify this attack to work in any dimensional space, and he can change the target to whatever he imagines. The only limit to what you can target with “Crossroads” is your imagination. As you can imagine, “Big Papa” is a very imaginative man. If he is fighting an ethereal, five-dimensional being that is not made out of “protons” and “neutrons”, he can still split its “arms” from its “legs”. He can destroy pretty much anything with this power.

Fighting “Big Papa” means the destruction of the known universe. He just starts tearing holes all over the universe and doesn’t bother to close them back up. You are probably going to destroy most or all of the known multiverse if you do battle with “Big Papa” Legba.

This guy is like Sun God Nika, but I think he’s actually stronger than Sun God Nika. I think he’s actually a lot stronger than Sun God Nika.

He can make himself even stronger too.

This is what “Big Papa” does when he just wants to end the fight. He stops grinning, he closes his right eye and opens left eye really wide. His left eye forms a perfect circle, and you just see this very tight gold spiral form in the center of his pupil. For you see “Big Papa” is not actually jazzman from the Harlem Renaissance in a bright red zoot. This is just the preferred avatar he assumes in three-dimensional space.

“Big Papa” is actually a near-infinite reserve of extremely powerful magic that exists across every dimensional space in existence. He is the Doorkeeper of the Dimensions - and I mean all dimensions, including imaginary dimensions! The gold in the center of his pupil is his magic. When he opens his eye really wide like that, he is concentrating an enormous amount of his ultra-powerful magic into the one-dimensional point at the very center of his pupil. So his body goes completely stiff and still because he is no longer wasting any of his magic to manipulate his three-dimensional avatar.

When he does this, “Crossroads” no longer has any limits to it. It just targets “everything” within an object and splits it apart. “Crossroads” is the power to destroy anything within a given dimensional space. “The Doorkeeper of the Dimensions” can also travel between dimensions and rip apart the fabric of any given dimensional space. For you see, “Big Papa” Legba is actually the god of Dimensional Destruction itself.

The best part is that his powers just look so fucking goofy no matter how serious he gets. It’s literally just Black Santa Claus in a bright red zoot. He’s no longer smiling, but he’s winking at you. He can instant transmission anywhere and grow or shrink to whatever size he needs to be. He can kill pretty much anything that ever existed and ever will exist, and I don’t think there is anything that can kill this guy.

“Big Papa” Legba was just designed to be the most broken anime character of all time. He is so goddamn strong. He is, without exaggeration, the most powerful of the gods. It is almost inconceivable how fucking strong this man is. I think he might be the strongest man in all of fiction.

The only thing more powerful than this man is God. He is the Voodoo King from New Orleans, and he’s got power beyond your wildest dreams.

He can pretty much do whatever the fuck he wants.

#hazbin hotel ocs #this is my favorite OC that i have cooked up for ANYTHING #he is so cool. i love him so much #i genuinely believe this is one of the best ideas that i have ever had in my entire goddamn life #this dude would be so GOATed. he would be one of the greatest meme characters of all time #the fastest way to hurt me is to tell me that you think this guy is complete trash that his face is ugly that his whole concept is the dumb #st thing you have ever heard in your entire life and that he just sucks #you have just called my favorite child ugly to my face. now i have to go cry myself to sleep. thanks a lot asshole #even if you hate this mans entire existence i hope you can respect the vision #big papa (hazbin hotel)#the gods (hazbin hotel)

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arolesbianism · 10 months ago

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Starting a new oni save that's not a rime colony for the first time in forever and I am in agony how do y'all live like this (shaking and crying as it is forced to enter a mildly warm area for drekos)

#rat rambles #oni posting #also makes guiser taming more annoying but its ok I can manage #my main goal for this playthrough is to make more use of automation and spoms #my last one isnt necessarily being completely abandoned I just wanted to try getting off of rime for a bit #I miss the hypothermia pop ups every five seconds but on the bright side I dont have to worry abt my water supply freezing #Im also trying some other new things and just trying to be more ambitious in general #I managed to force myself to upgrade my bathrooms within the first 50 cycles are you proud of me #I also am making better use of hydro whatever farm plots for my obligatory bristleberry farm #thoroughly enjoying the lessened dupe labor even if it puts a bit more pressure on my initial water supply #I do have a steam vent and a salt water guiser nearby tho so Im not particularly worried #mainly Im just figuring out how I wanna go abt cooling it #my salt water guiser is right by a tundra biome with a cooling machine right inside it so I could attempt to use that #but from my multiple attempts to utilize that thing it's a bit hard to use for liquid cooling #I also think I might build my spom in that same biome so idk #I do have a second tundra biome thats also right next to the saltwater biome but Im trying to preserve it best I can to wildfarm sleet weat #I have also made the laziest drowning chamber I could manage and its called building my hatch ranch over my water tank #plus a critter sensory autosweeper and conveyor loader #it does overkill a lil every time it activates but its ok Im lazy enough to live with it #I also have some pacu and a crab in there so its a whole party in there #this is also going to be my first time having sanishells once I get an egg #not going to properly ranch them tho I kind of just took one to use as a trash can for my early polluted dirt #also Im glad I was able to get onto bristle berries as a primary food source quickly this time around #Im not going to go crazy expanding it for now since I have a couple other crops Im planning on getting going soon as well #mainly lettus and sleet wheat once I find some pips #then I can have early frost burgers if I want. I wont since I havent found any natural gas vents yet but y'know #speaking of oh 4 natural gass vents all near eachother on my last save how I miss you you made power so easy #on the bright side Ill have an oil biome that isn't filled with solid oil this time lol #I should rly make some actual use of oil this time around #hey who knows maybe Ill get far enough to make a sour gas boiler (lying)

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hms-no-fun · 3 months ago

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Whats your stance on A.I.?

imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!

like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.

but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!

so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.

consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.

but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!

see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???

so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.

i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.

(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)

#sarahposts #ai #ai art #llm #chatgpt #artificial intelligence #genai #anti genai #capitalism is bad #tech companies #i really don't like these people if that wasn't clear

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shitpostingsapphic · 13 days ago

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My favorite headcanons for caitvi are ones where they met as kids/teens, by far

Like it's so fucking cute, the idea that Caitlyn would be immediately drawn to Vi due to her curiosity, and Vi can't help but be smitten by Caitlyn's atypical behaviors and willingness to explore new concepts and experiences and ideas.

Just like when they meet as adults in the original universe, their backgrounds should make them incompatible, but there's that inexplicable draw that brings them together.

Imagine Caitlyn tags along with Jayce to his visits in the undercity without telling her parents and can't stop staring at the pink haired girl she sees there at the shop, just hanging around, and they meet eyes, and BOOM, instant connection. Vi also sneaks glances and realizes she's never seen a Piltie girl her age this close before. She wonders if they're all this pretty.

Imagine Vi is sneaking around topside to catch glimpses of Caitlyn, because she feels like she shouldn't be so drawn to a Piltie, but she is anyway.

Imagine one day Caitlyn actually catches sight of Vi across the street as she tries to remain inconspicuous, but Caitlyn would recognize that pink hair in a heartbeat. Imagine she sneaks away from her mother or whoever she's with in order to go talk to her.

"It's you," she says, shy yet bold.

Vi, of course, tries to play it off. "Dunno what you're talking about, topside." But the blush on her cheeks tells another story.

Caitlyn ignores the very obvious attempts at ignorance. "I've been wanting to come visit the shop again, but it's hard for me to find the chance to get away from my mother. She's kind of overprotective."

Vi decides it's best not to play dumb, but can't completely be honest about wanting to see her as well. "You're sure you wanna share about your life with me? Maybe your mom's got a point, shouldn't associate with undercity trash and all."

Caitlyn frowns. "I don't think you're trash. That's silly. Why would you call yourself that?"

Vi is caught a bit off guard. "Isn't that what all you Pilties think of us?"

"I certainly don't." Caitlyn cocks her head as this leaves Vi without a response. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Vi stumbles around in her head for an answer. Shoves her hands in her pockets. Kicks a rock aside. Shrugs. "W-why are YOU talking to me?"

This makes Caitlyn smirk. "I DID say I've been meaning to come back to the shop. What do you think?"

"Dunno. Could want a number of things there." Vi has been staring at the ground but peers up at Caitlyn here. "Give me a hint?" The barest of upturned lips.

This makes Caitlyn break out into a genuine smile that steals Vi's breath a bit. "You're kind of adorable, you know that?"

Vi sputters. "Am NOT."

"Are so." Caitlyn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Can't help but think the girl's freckles compliment her blush well.

Vi rolls her eyes, trying to pretend her brain isn't setting off fireworks. "I don't even know your name."

"Would you like to know it?" Caitlyn says, tilting her head.

"Since you insist on teasing me, I think it's fair."

"But you make it so easy," Caitlyn giggles. "Alright. I'm Caitlyn."

"Caitlyn," Vi breathes. Shakes her head. Clears her throat. Thrusts her hand out, scuffed up palms and knuckles and all. "I'm Vi."

"Vi. Pleasure to meet you." Caitlyn takes her hand without hesitation, notices how rough they feel compared to hers, incredibly intrigued.

"Caitlyn!" A voice calls. The girls both turn. It's her mother.

"Shit." Caitlyn breathes.

This makes Vi laugh, surprised. "Didn't know princesses could use words like that."

"Oh, hush." Caitlyn looks back at her, panicked. "I have to go. I'm sorry." Her eyes shift so they're alight with mischief. She jerks her head towards her mom. "You've got a talent for sneaking around, I assume?"

"And if I do?"

"Wait until we're out of sight. Maybe if you're good enough, you can stay under her radar." Caitlyn smirks. "Maybe you could teach me how to sneak about myself. Could come in handy."

Without giving Vi a chance to respond, she turns away, skirt swishing about.

And if Vi does exactly what Caitlyn says, following her home out of sight, and later taps at the same glass doors of the balcony she sees the girl disappear into after a while of spying, no one is the wiser. She figures she doesn't need to tell Vander what she's been up to just yet.

#caitvi headcanon #arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane thoughts #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #vi arcane #caitlyn x vi #violyn #arcane league of legends #vi ar #arcane fic #caitvi fic #arcane league of lesbians #league of lesbians

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deadsetobsessions · 9 months ago

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

#batman #danny phantom #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #bruce has already adopted this kid #just not with paperwork #but that's a trivial matter for BatDad #he's also going to adopt both tucker and sam #dcxdp #sea cryptic! danny au

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cat-got-your-tongue · 2 months ago

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Drunk texting

DP&W!Logan x Fem!reader: featuring Wade

Summary: logan goes out with Wade and won't stop calling and texting your phone

Word count: Over 1k

Authors note: Hi, please be kind. I'm still trying to get back into writing. I didn't proofread this. My requests are open. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact or read.

It was 2:00 am on a fucking Wednesday night and your phone was blowing up. Wade had dragged Logan out to have some "bonding time with peanut." Which was code for which of them could get drunk the fastest. It always led to the bar being completely drained of alcohol — usually with one of them coming home with a bruised eye (Wade).

Logan could drink, and so could wade. But he has such a high tolerance that the amount of alcohol he consumed in order to get completely drunk would probably kill the average man. Not good. That meant longer days spent working so he could pay off the tab. You didn't mind most of the time. Since he needed a break and have some fun every once in a while.

Your phone lights up next to your bed. You tried to ignore it, but it kept happening over and over. The loud buzz vibrating on the night stand. You groan and throw your pillow over your head. No use. The sound just kept getting louder and louder.

You sit up in bed and grab it, the bright light making your eyes water a bit. You look down, and your eyebrows shoot up. There were about 46 text messages, and over 10 missed calls. All from logan and a few from wade.

You open your text message app to read what the hell was so important that he had to blow your phone up in the middle of the night.

Lo 💕: miss you.

Lo 💕: Wades tupee is crooked, not telling him tho

Lo 💕: luv u ba.yb

Lo 💕: gonna fkc u wen I get home

Lo 💕: gonna have u soking my dick

Lo 💕: stop ignore me

Lo 💕: [image]

Your eyes were still trying to adjust to the screen of your phone as you read through every text message logan has sent. You sighed, looking at the picture he sent you. You could tell he was absolutely trashed. He was in the run-down bars bathroom. The lighting in there was dim, and the mirror was dirty. He was holding his semi hard cock in one hand and had the bottom of shirt in between his teeth. The sight alone had you squeezing your thighs together. His abs were flexed and a little sweaty, making his happy trail stick to his skin. You had to take a deep breath and calm yourself.

You clicked back and went over to the texts Wade had sent you. You were trying to get your mind off of the selfie logan sent.

Wade: don't worry pookie is fine.

Wade: he's got his tits out like a slut.

Wade: okay now he's fighting

Wade: Okay now he's fighting ME

Wade: I'm not even drunk. I've been having the bartender give me water the whole night 😈

Wade: is he in heat ??? All he's been talking about is fucking

You rolled your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. You knew the second wade got logan through that front door it was over. Just as you had that thought, the door went bursting open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud bang.

"Speak of the devil." You mumbled under your breath. You walked out and saw Wade throwing logan back onto the couch.

He turned to you. "Sunshine here decided to start hmmm his fourth bar fight of the night, so we got kicked out."

You ran your hand down your face and looked down at where logan was slumped over. "Bad night?"

"Nah, luckily, he got whiskey dick of the claws, so no one was shanked." Wade shrugged as he readjusted his toupee. You fought the urge to laugh when you remembered logans text from earlier.

You let out a sigh of relief that no one was actually hurt tonight. You don't know what you'd do if you had to bail logan out of jail. Knowing Wade, he'd probably would just break him out.

"Well thank you for taking him out tonight. He's been......kinda down lately." You spoke as your eyes were still trained on your boyfriend.

There was pause before he spoke up again. He knew how much his friend could get into his own head and overthink.

"No problem. I'm gonna leave you two alone before he wakes up and tells me how much he wants to eat your ass again." Wade gave you a sympathetic pat to your shoulder and quickly hauled ass out of your apartment.

He wasn't gonna stick around incase logan decided to whip out his cock. You couldn't blame him.

Your face got hot, and you groaned again. Logan always had such a way with words. The thought of him telling Wade anything about your sex life was enough to make you want to go hide under your blanket. Now you were wondering what the hell those two talk about when you or Vanessa were not around.

A low grumble sounded from logan as he woke up. His eyes were dropping, and his speech was slurred. He looked around, confused as to where he was until he saw you. He gave you a weak smile and patted his lap for you to sit.

"C'mere" logan hiccups. "Been missin' ya all night." He tried reaching for you.

You immediately slapped his hand away.

"Nuh, uh, I'm gonna make you some water, and you're gonna sleep on this couch until you're sobered up." You shook your head and backed away.

"Then maybe just maaaybe you can have me in the morning. Deal?"

Logan pouted and sunk deeper into his spot. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit. You couldn't deny the sad pout on his face was cute. He looked so annoyed with you, but he didn't have it in his heart to be mean. Never to you. No matter how drunk logan got, it still didn't keep him from having that soft spot for you.

"Why don't you stand between my legs and lemme eat your pussy then." He slurred again.

"Jesus christ." You muttered and went into the kitchen to pour him some water.

You'd think you would be used to his dirty talk by now. Yet he still managed to surprise you with it. If he wasn't drunk off his ass right now, you would have peeled off all your clothes and let him have you right there on that couch— letting him stuff his cock so deep in your pussy it made your legs tremble before he even started moving. You shake your head of those thoughts and continue getting him his water.

By the time you came back, he had already passed out. You sat the water down and helped him into a more comfortable position. Throwing a blanket over him, you placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Quickly, you went back into your bed to get some sleep. You're sure by morning he would be back to normal. He didn't get hangovers much. Maybe you'd take him up on all of his all of those offers once he's sober.

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hoshifighting · 2 months ago

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staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

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kekewrites · 6 days ago

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tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues

Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.

It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.

Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.

That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.

***

You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.

He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.

It's not a bad thing.

But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.

"Come on... Don't look at me like that."

He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.

Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.

"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.

Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.

He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.

"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.

Thump, thump, thump.

Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.

He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.

"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.

"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"

He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.

Were you trying to say welcome back?

His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.

"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."

You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"

Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.

Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...

It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.

"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.

Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.

His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.

"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.

He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."

When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."

Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.

His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."

It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.

"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.

You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.

Oh.

It's starting again hm?

Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.

***

The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"

Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.

His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.

"Come for me," he demands.

And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.

But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.

"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.

He'll do anything for his girl.

Anything.

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