#like how do you even explain all that to people when they ask
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okwonyo · 2 days ago
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CAN YOU SEE ME? IM WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME ..
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──── 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇.
𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐒 ㅤㅤ𓈒 bsf!enhypen x fem!rea 7OO non-idol au fluff potential future relationship yearning ૮(^﹏^ ! skinship jealousy 【 MUSÉE 】
じや wrote this in a rush ! enjoy 🎀
rbs ✶ comments please + daily
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 。 。 watches you from a distance. with his eyes wide as a deer caught in the headlights, he doesn’t say anything or does anything about it— he just watches. he can’t help but observe your movements, the way you laugh or how you tuck your hair behind your ear while you talk to the other man. he studies you, sadness in his eyes, trying to find out if you are interested in someone other than him or not. “what?” you ask him when you see the grimace on his face. instead of answering, he questions you too, “do you like him?” relief washes over him in a wave when you shake your head, “i thought we were just talking but he wanted more,” then you add, “i’d rather spend time with you”.
⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡
𝐉𝐀𝐘 。 。 is always near you. in any circumstances, in any sort of place. if you are near, he is too— almost as if he was your bodyguard or, you as you prefer to say, guardian angel. any person that approaches you, approaches him too and needs to get approved by him to even talk to you. therefore, there is no need to explain that when a guy tries to talk to you, they get hit by a presence impossible to ignore right behind you. the menacing glares can make anyone pale and stumble over their words in front of you. and the funniest part, is that you are well aware of that but decide to act clueless— always shooting a fake confused look at him before smiling sweetly when yet another man runs away from you.
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 。 。 as your known best friend, many people come to him when they wonder if you are single and try to find a way to ask you out. unfortunately for them, he is not only your best friend but also desperately and irrevocably in love with you. so, in lieu of giving proper answers and advice, he assures them that you are already taken, by no one else but him. and to be completely honest, it works quite well. he even likes to, just for the sake of the silly little lie— of course, be really clingy in front of others. you don’t mind, he has always been like that, and it makes him happy to touch you for a second and be your lover. even if it’s through everyone’s eyes but yours.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 。 。 he has a special radar for whoever has romantic interests towards you. i mean, he would know how having a crush ok you feels like. since he has been in love with you since primary school. so, where are both around someone who seems to like a you a little bit too much, he starts his extra-clingy and affectionate best friend act. draping his arm on your shoulders, talking to you nonstop and asking for your attention as soon as your eyes go on anywhere else but him. “are you drunk?” you laugh all of the time, not even annoyed in the slightest. he is drunk, drunk in love.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 。 。 he is unable to control his face when a guy comes to talk to you. he stares at him with a disgusted and utterly offended expression on the surface of his face. as soon as romance is being involved, he tugs you close without thinking— the petname ‘sweetheart’ even slip out. you don’t seem to mind, you only excuse yourself to your other interlocutor before focusing fully on your best friend. when you don’t look, he shoots to the flabbergasted man a very proud grin. he loves to be your favorite.
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 。 。 he is flabbergasted, took over by immense disbelief and utter shock. he just watched the cashier shamelessly flirt with you— right in front of hom, without decorum. yes, he is not your boyfriend, but come on! he believes that the cashier should have been a little bit ashamed at least. “please,” he pleads as soon as you get out of the shop. “don’t tell me you are going to go out with that guy.” you immediately smile, a teasing question already tingling your tongue, “why? are you jealous?” his heart drops, his face reddens and he starts walking as you chuckle.
𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 。 。 uses all his strength to try to not be jealous— alas, he fails as soon as he even thinks about you and that ‘nobody’ together. he looks at you with sad eyes and a frown, as if he was a kicked puppy, whereupon you tell him you got asked on a date by the stranger. “wouldn’t you rather spend time with me?” he asks you, and you giggle. “what? this guy will be boring in two weeks but, i will be fun forever.” this idiot isn’t even able to contain his happiness when you tell him that he is right, that you will stay with him tonight. he is so happy that he hugs you, tight.
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𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open & network : @sgz-net
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chaoticwriting · 2 days ago
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YOU ARE MARRIED??!!
-Wayne Manor, Gotham-
Cass is not having a good time. From the Arkham breakout last week all the way to losing a bet with his siblings on who is going to attend the gala with Bruce. And now this annoying lady kept asking her about her preference in men or something. And Bruce can't help her since he is being occupied by those rich assholes about investment or stuff.
Vicky: So, Miss Wayne. Is it true that you have a secret boyfriend?
Cass: No.
Vicky: Then how about that pict-
Cass: I'm already married.
Vicky blue screened as Cass finished her sentence. Cass takes the chance and slips away from her before she starts barraging her with questions. Revealing that she is married may not be the smartest thing she has done but she is very annoyed at people who keep asking her about her secret significant other. If they want to ask, at least use the proper term.
Just as Cass reaches the hallway, she is scooped up by two strong arms and is carried away to the Batcave. Cass looks to her side to see Dick and Jason both holding one of her arms each and looking very pissed. Well, Dick looks very pissed. Jason looks like he is having fun. Cass doesn't struggle and just lets her brothers carry her to the Batcave to have the talk.
They put Cass on the couch and proceed to guard the exit of the cave on the off chance that she decides to escape. Not that she would because she and her husband have been thinking of breaking the news to their respective family for awhile now.
She waited for a few hours while playing on her phone. Her main phone. Not the one she used to contact her husband since this family has a lot of competent hackers. She knows that being married is like a big deal. But she doesn't expect it to be such a big deal.
When she says everyone is here, she means everyone. From all his close family all the way to Selina (Bruce's fiancee), Roy (Jason's boyfriend), Kori (Dick's wife), Kon (Tim's boyfriend), Jon (Damian's bff) and even Harley and Ivy is here. She is also pretty sure that Clark is listening from somewhere but it's not like she is trying to keep it a secret anymore, so the more people there are the less she needs to explain.
Harper: So what are we here again? I would rather be home to polish my new gun than in this cave.
Dick: Since everyone is here, I would like to apologize for calling all of you in such short notice.
A murmur ranging from 'it's fine' all the way to 'I want to sleep' sounded in the room.
Dick: Anyway, let's get to the main topic shall we. For starters, I would like to say that none of us wishes to control who you dated nor who you choose to be your partner.
Some more murmurs sounded in the room.
Dick: HOWEVER! We would really appreciate it if you wish to marry someone, at least notify one of us since being married is a big deal.
More murmurs sounded as all of them have a rough idea on what the topic going to be.
Dick: So, the person in question, would you like to explain yourself?
A spotlight lights up on top of Cass, directing all the people's attention to her. She doesn't even know there is a spotlight installed in the cave.Cass stands up and looks at the crowd. She replies, "No."
Everyone is stunned by her reply. They expect many types of replies but no is certainly not one of them.
Tim: Fuck you mean no?
Alfred: I would prefer this conversation to remain civil and proper please master Timothy. I would also like to express my extreme displeasure at the fact that I am not notified by your marriage Mistress Cassandra.
Cass goes still at Alfred's sentence. Okay, shit is really serious. As much as she loves messing with them, she would rather not have her food burnt on the inside. (No one knows how Alfred manages to do that.)
Cass: Ehem, I'm just messing with you. It is a long story but to make it short, my husband and I met when we were in Hong Kong. We met after he got roped in one of the gangs that I was busting. After we met and a little misunderstanding, he helped me to dismantle the underground drug labs across Hong Kong.
Tim: So he is also a vigilante?
Cass: Ex-vigilante. He has a daughter now so he is taking care of her.
Dick: You get pregnant?!! How? When?
Cass: I did not get pregnant. But she is technically my daughter.
Jason: Like how Lian is with me?
Cass: No. Biological daughter.
Kon: Umm, guys. I think Bruce needs to rest a little. His heart has been beating a little too fast for even him.
Dick and and Tim are closest to Bruce realizing that Bruce's face has been impossibly pale for quite a while now. They take him to an empty couch and let him lay there and rest for a while. Everyone's reactions range from amused to straight up concerned that Bruce's career as Batman might get cut short today.
It takes a while but as soon as Bruce is fine, they continue another round of questions and answers.
Bruce: How long have you been married?
Cass: Next week is our 3rd anniversary.
Duke: Wait. Didn't you plan to go to Hong Kong for some time next week? You even ask me to cover your patrol because you say you need to go somewhere.
Cass: I don't lie. I missed last year's anniversary since there was an Arkham breakout at the time.
Duke: Dude, still not cool. You are going on a date with your husband while I need to spend hours running on top of buildings around Gotham. So not fair.
Jason: Was the present you asked me to send last year also was for your husband?
Cass: Yes.
Jason: I've been your middle man all this time and I don't even know.
Barbara: I found it! This is the registration for marriage between Cassie Cain and Daniel Fenton. You used a fake name?
Cass: Yes. You will know otherwise.
Bruce: Why do you hide it?
Cass: I'm not sure all of you are gonna like him and vice versa.
Dick: Is he a bad person? I will kill him if he treats you badly.
Cass: No. He doesn't trust all of you at first.
Steph: And why is that?
Cass: He thinks the Justice League is working with the government. So by extension, all of you are associates of government to him.
Steph: Why is he running away from the government? Is he a criminal?
Barbara: No. He doesn't have any criminal records in his name. Except for the fact that he is practically nonexistent before he is 18, there is nothing wrong with him.
Tim: Is it a forged identity then?
Cass: No. The government wiped away his records.
Dick: What? Why?
Cass: I don't know.
Damian: I expect you to at least do a background check on someone before marrying them, Cain.
Dick: Did you get married with someone you barely know? Do you understand how dangerous that is? What if he just dipped you after you got married?
Cass: *Rolls her eyes* He isn't a bad person. I make sure of that at least. I know he is some sort of meta tho-
A green portal suddenly appears out of thin air making everyone be on guard except Cass. She expects Danny to come out of the portal to greet her but what comes out baffled her.
A young girl that looks a little like Cass riding on a big wolf comes out of the portal swiftly towards Cass. Everyone is just about to shoot their weapons when the girl's word shock them.
???:Mama!
Everyone: Mama?!!
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wanderingwinds333 · 2 days ago
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My Sweetheart, Your Nightmare.
Pairing: Azriel X Reader
Summary: Having noticed that Elain clings to Azriel, Feyre mentions she thinks Azriel and Elain would be good together. Questions why the mother didn’t make them mates. Rhysand quickly lets her in on an important piece of information.
“‘Why not make them mates?” Feyre states as she witnesses her sister and Azriel down in the garden.
Rhysands eyes widen at his mates brazen comment and goes to interject but before he can she continues on.
“They look perfectly matched do they not? Two beautiful and caring people. Three sisters for three brothers just make sense?” Feyre says sounding upset.
“Feyre darling. It appears I’ve left out some pretty important information about this family. It’s my fault really, she’s been out doing my messy work for the night court this whole time. Keeping all the other threats at bay and …immobilizing them so Azriel has less work on his plate.” Rhysand rambles.
“What? I’m not following Rhys?” Feyre questions.
Rhysand sighs but goes to explain further.
“Azriel is only doing as I have asked in looking after Elain. He already has a mate Feyre. One he is very committed to. A female that you most certainly never want to hear the words you just spoke about your sister and him. She- “ a throat clears from behind them.
“SHE, is right here Rhysand.” A sultry voice states.
Rhysands eyes widen in what Feyre can only see as fear.
“Y/N! You are home! Oh Azriel is going to be thrilled, let me just go get him for you.” Rhysand quickly goes to grab Feyre and tries to leave but y/n has other plans.
Magic surges across the room and Feyres feet feel stuck to the floor. She turns her head to look at Rhysand and notices he is in the same predicament.
“Dammit” Rhysand whispers more to himself.
“Ah ah ah, Rhysie. That’s no way to greet your favorite sister in law. You haven’t even introduced me to your mate yet.”
Feyre turns to actually get a good look at the female that has somehow over powered the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.
Ashen white hair, icy eyes, taller than most fae females, and she has a beautiful silhouette that filled out a pair of black leathers quite nicely, Feyre thought. Cauldron boil her, this female was gorgeous.
Before Feyre could find anymore of your perfections Rhysand interrupted her train of thoughts.
“Think less loudly Feyre Darling, I’m starting to become jealous.” Rhysand deadpans.
Feyre blushes and immediately looks down to her feet.
“You know I have that affect on most fae Rhysie. Don’t be a sour puss.” Y/n smugly states.
Y/n descends upon them and actually goes to bow before Feyre.
“It is an honor to officially meet you my High Lady. My name is y/n, assassin of the Night Court. Mate and wife of Azriel.” Y/N proudly states.
“I-it’s lovely to finally meet you y/n.” Feyre stutters out.
This female infront of Feyre is terrifying and ethereal. Feyre already knows she is lethal and all thoughts she had prior of how Elain and Azriel were perfectly matched go straight out the window. She can see it now…why the cauldron makes the pairings it does.
Y/N stands to her full height but all playfulness she exuded before is gone.
“I know you did not know of my existence until just now…so for that reason alone I’ll let your comments slide. But Azriel is MY mate and the saying ‘if I can’t have them, then no one can’ is very much the saying I live by when it comes to him.”
Feyre can only nod her head dumbfounded.
A second later shadows envelope the room. More lively than Feyre has ever seen them.
Azriel soon enters with a confused Elain in tow.
When Azriel lays his eyes on y/n, Feyre can quite literally see the tension leave his body.
“Sweetheart.” Azriel speaks so softly. He rushes to y/n and envelopes her in a hug that looks like it would hurt.
“Hi love.” Y/n whispers back just as soft and leans her forehead against his.
It’s an intimate moment that everyone else in the room feel like they are intruding on.
But one moment the feared shadowsinger and his mate were there…and the next gone.
Rhysand releases a breath that he had been holding.
“Well that was y/n. She’s half high fae and half witch. The people of Prythian call her Nightmare because fae parents tell their children if you don’t behave she’ll come in the night while you are sleeping and take you to her dungeon. Which isn’t totally untrue…it’s just criminals and murderers that she takes to her dungeon. You won’t see her or Azriel again until maybe two or three months from now .” Rhysand states.
“What? Where will they be?” Elain finally speaks.
After witnessing all she just had she can’t say she’s not a bit disappointed. It was obvious what you were to Azriel.
“Oh they are going to pick up their children from Azriels mom’s cottage and spend the rest of their time at their home.” Rhysand throws out casually.
“THEY HAVE CHILDREN? Rhysand what else have you conveniently left out?!” Feyre berates.
“….well I think that’s it honestly. OH they have a pet wolf who is very protective of the children. Also my niece and nephews, they enjoy tormenting people in different ways than their parents…mental manipulation. Just lock your mind up real tight around them. God I love them and proud they are all daemati like me but they once convinced me I had a thing for Beron for over a week until y/n realized what they were doing and made them release my mind.” Rhysand annoyedly admits.
Elain and Feyre can only stare at him in shock. He simply shrugs his shoulders like it was normal and walks off.
Elain breaks the silence and turns to Feyre. “I think y/n is going to end up being best friends with Nesta.” the two break out in giggles and they honestly can’t wait to see that unfold.
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snugglyporos · 1 day ago
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// Christ I wish I could go back in time and erase concepts like 'unconscious bias' from the world of popular lingo because people apply it to things that they don't apply to. No, most people do not possess an unconscious bias that working class people are worth less than rich people, that's your classist ideology being applied to things that you shouldn't apply it to. We might call that a conscious bias.
What is actually happening is a mix of tropes being blended together and not changing over time. Namely, the idea that the more individuals there are, the weaker they are. We see this everywhere; fifty ninjas? Weak. Not a problem. One ninja? Super powerful. Legend. This exists in everything from James Bond movies to comics to Power Rangers.
The reality is that, narratively speaking, the random cannon fodder between the protagonist and the final boss do not matter. They don't! In real life they would, but if you tried to give ever goon a backstory and explain it you would have a shit story because the audience does not care about the backstory of unnamed good #23. After they take the punch from the protagonist, the audience has entirely forgotten they existed.
Which means that, narratively speaking, the killing of the main villain is more important and more impactful than the killing of some random goon. Now, if you're a good writer this shouldn't be the case. But this too, comes from the blending of genres and tropes.
In the late 1980s, fiction became more violent and more visceral. This means that a lot more violence was happening! And yet, writers still wanted to have their protagonist show that they were the protagonist, because people were all in on moral relativism. People would be like 'well, there's no difference between the hero and the villain if the hero kills the villain.'
The response was a lot of heroes started adopting a weird kind of no killing rule; Batman will break your fucking spine but kill the guy who just blew up a building? That's too far! 'I'm not like you, a guy who kills people, I just cripple them for life!'
And again, this is what happens when genre conventions (the hero should be morally superior than the villain, or at least attempt to be) mixing with trope developments (everything now needs to be brutal and violent to reflect real life).
Now, the circle has completed itself, where we're once again back to 1985, where people are like 'actually no, the hero should fucking kill that guy.' You'll probably be a big fan of the Death Wish movies and The Dark Knight Strikes Back; you know, things that lots of proto-fascists really love because they reinforce the notion that actually, heroes should wield violence against their enemies and impose their will through abject terror.
The reality is, people aren't sitting around going 'my work should reflect the idea that workers are less important than the boss' it's that narratively, the random goons exist to be smacked down to prepare the audience for the big bad, because rising action requires that there be rising challenges. This is mixing along with personal tastes in media.
Now, you could, for example, turn this new trope on its head and ask whether the Punisher murdering every jaywalker and low level drug dealer with extreme violence makes him a villain, because his ideal is that any lawbreaker should be murdered instantly no matter how low the crime. You might also argue that the trope should actually be that the grunts shouldn't be killed by the hero, but the guy who organized them should, because he's much worse than they are.
You could also argue that, the reason why the hero doesn't just kill the villain is that murder is wrong? Even if you think it's morally justified? I think people forget, when they fantasize about an ideal French Revolution, that the most common crime people were executed for was pickpocketing, and every day they would execute the guys who got caught working the crowds at the executions the day before. More poor people got killed in the French Revolution than rich people; you should probably keep that in mind!
Because the core reason you probably want your hero to not kill people in general is that you then have to ask who deserves it and your answer will inevitably include a lot of people you might actually like! You probably don't want heroes taking vague concepts like justice into their own hands because inevitably that makes them into the Death Wish protagonist, deciding that what really needs to happen is for a white guy with a gun to just start shooting up inner cities.
You don't want your hero to start killing people because this is corrosive and it will inevitably result in comparisons between people who got killed.
So no, it's not some kind of unconscious bias, it's because we've melted a worldwide demand for bloodshed and violence with established genre tropes and if you removed one or the other people would complain and be very unhappy.
Or, I guess you could go on and say that Freddy Kruger is anti-marxist because he only targets teenagers instead of people who really deserve it.
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thanosscross · 2 days ago
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hii!! <33
i love your work and i just have to request something for.. choi seung-hyun :)
yk top isnt in the kpop industry after all the things that happened to him (i feel so bad for him) so, when he was recording squid game.. guess what!?? apart from jo yuri, reader. a kpop idol whom during the last months/year has become famous there acting!! oh gosh he is so in shock because he gets flashbacks. and aside from that, our character is associated with his, so he has to spend plenty of time with us
Absolutely love it, I do I do. So let's do this
My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader
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Summary: Meeting Choi Seung Hyun was an honor for you, considering you had stepped into his spotlight as a new upcoming k-pop rapper after he retired, so what happens whenever you not only meet him, but get closer than most with him
Warnings: You will cry.
Going on set for squid games for the first time was an experience, especially meeting everybody, yes you had been on a handful of other production, but nothing like this. Whenever you first given you script, you were sure you'd be one of the first to be killed off, but finding out you live throughout the second season was a shock, especially because you had a tour coming up soon.
Walking through the groups of people you felt nervous, because of your management company you had missed your first reading for the script, meaning everybody had already met other than you. You chose to sit in your chair off to the side going over your script, trying to anybody wearing a tracksuit with 230 on it, knowing that was going to be the main co-star you filmed with. Unknown to you Choi Seung Hyun had already spotted you and was standing in shock "Hey? You okay man?" Jae-won (Player 124) asked him seeing him staring across the room "Y-Yea, does she look familiar?" He asked motioning to you "I know we film with her, but-" Seung Hyun was cut off by a soft voice in front of him "Hi, I'm uh..Y/n l/n..I guess we're gonna be love interests" You smiled sweetly extending your hand to shake his, taken by surprise by him bending slightly to kiss the top of your hand gently "Choi Seung Hyun" He introduced, you blushed scratching the back of your neck shyly "O-Oh I know, being a big female rapper in k-pop, you have to know who came before you" You smiled, his smirk turned into a genuine smile after that "That's where I recognized you, you're that y/n!" He explained, sighing in relief that it wasn't going to be awkward you smiled "Do you guys wanna go over a few lines with me?..I couldn't make it the other day" You asked shyly, both men excitedly volunteering.
Filming with Seung Hyun was fun, he was always trying to flirt with you or get you to laugh, while it flustered you, the directors and cast loved it, all of them explaining it's giving their characters alot more chemistry behind the acting. As you stood on your mark, Seung Hyun stood on the opposite side of the scene, filming scenes for a close up argument between your character and his, as the director called action you attempted to start your lines "You selfish!- I can't! he's standing there so sweet!" You frowned, stepping forward hugging him tightly "You're not selfish" You frowned, the past few weeks of filming you and Seung Hyun got close, opening up to each other over wine after filming and coffee before filming. Seung Hyun just chuckled "I know, would it help if I made you mad?" He asked raising his eyebrows, you shrugged stepping back to your marker "Couldn't hurt to try" You smiled softly, he just smiled before looking at you "Your music is by far better than anything I've produced, and you've surpassed me in the rap world" He explained, you both knew he was just coming up with things that would get under his skin, it wasn't that you were a huge fangirl, but going into the music world at first you idolized T.O.P, so after his scandal and and him leaving BigBang you held a soft spot for him, he was a big reason you even learned how to rap that fast.
You filmed the scene with ease after that, only stumbling on your lines one more time after that for the day. You were now standing with your back to the wall, Seung Hyun standing a few inches in front of you, his arm blocking one side of your head, the other had a camera positioned to see the both of you perfectly "Y/n, Seung Hyun, Are you two okay to start?" Dong-Hyuk asked, you were grateful to have such a thoughtful director, any intense scenes always making sure you were comfortable and ready before filming started. "Let's do this" Seung Hyun smiled, you nodded in agreement as they called out action. "I thought I told you to pick to stay, senorita" he growled, grabbing the bright red X patch that was velcroid to your jacket "You're not the boss of me" You stated glaring him down, trying your best to remember what line was your cue to try and get away "Didn't I say I'd kill you?" He asked reaching his hand back, forgetting your cue you yelped as Seung Hyun's came in contact with your throat, pinning you to the wall, you both glanced at the director in shock, almost like children after accidentally hurting each other. "Cut!" He called out "Y/n! What was that? Did you forget your cue or something?" The director called out, your eyes were stuck on Seung Hyun though, his hand slowly pulling away from you, being replaced by his gentle finger tips "Are you okay?" He asked softly, trying to see with the current lighting if he hurt you "I'm alright, it just scared me..I guess I did forget" You whispered, you wouldn't admit why exactly you forgot, it definitely wasn't because of Seung Hyun's voice whenever he was acting.
After filming you were sitting on your trailer steps, watching the rain fall around you "Y/n" Seung Hyun's soft voice sounded from somewhere around the corner of your trailer "Seung Hyun?" You asked, trying to hear him over the soft pattering of the raindrops, you soon realized he wasn't talking to you, he was talking about you. Peeking around the corner you saw him a few trailers down talking on the phone with somebody "Yea yea I know that, but what else?" He asked, you stayed hidden behind your trailer, still listening in, not at all sorry to admit you really cared about what he thought about you, but also sorry to admit you felt the need to listen in on his conversation to know. "I don't know man! W-working with her has been fun.." You heard between the muffled quiet bits of his conversation, you were about to walk away before you heard him raise his voice again "Oh no! No! Not like that!" He shouted, you could only wonder what he meant or what he was talking about, you chose to keep it to yourself for now.
Walking up with a startle off put your morning severely, being a rising star wasn't easy, you had creeps at meet and greets, stalkers that went to extensive lengths to try and get your attention, some of which giving you pretty intense nightmares and ptsd. Walking onto set you gripped your script, you had accidentally slept through coffee with Seung Hyun, which gave him a weird feeling, like there was something wrong. "Y/n?" You heard his voice before you slammed into his body, you scampered back as Seung Hyun caught you easily, steading you on your feet before taking in your panicked look "Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked tilting his head, you didn't reply, just wrapping your arms tightly around him trying not to show to anybody that you were close to tears. Now Seung Hyun wasn't a liar, he wasn't very fond of physical touching, but there was something about your panicked terrified state that gave him a craving to hold onto you until you were back to your usual bubbly self. Wrapping his arms around you he rested a hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him "What happened this morning?" He asked "You were fine whenever I left last night.." He continued giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away, keeping a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. "I don't..Just..bad dreams" You smiled softly, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety you had "Are you okay to do today?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently, you relaxed further under his touch "Y-Yea yea, I'm okay" You smiled, he gave you an encouraging smile before leading you over to your seats, that you both had moved closer to each other during one of your interviews earlier in the week.
As you read through this episodes script you mumbled quietly to yourself, unknowingly singing along to different verses of different songs that popped into your head "Okay, remind me when I'm in the studio again to get you to come do a collaboration track together" Seung Hyun smiled walking over to you from where he was filming "Don't play with my teenage fangirl heart like that" You teased, you both knew how you felt towards BigBang as a teenager, how you had posters of your co-star in your room before and after his rap career. "I'm serious, that's some good work" He smiled sincerely squeezing your shoulder sitting down, you just offered him an awkward smile, you knew today was Seung Hyun's last day on set, and it would be the last day you truly got to spend with him, and it'd be a lie if you said you wouldn't miss him.
You had one scene left between you and Seung Hyun before his characters death scene, and you were a nervous wreck, as the director called out action you stood in the colored room for the game 'mingle' "What was that stunt you pulled, huh!?" He shouted, backing you against the wall "I-I was trying to save her-" He cut you off, you did your best to act nervous and scared, but it was hard whenever the man currently yelling at you would apologize the minute any scenes where he had to objectify or be rude to you were done. "Her!? What about you, senorita!?" He screamed before backing up running his hands through his hair before going back to standing in front of you "I'm so fucking mad right now!" He shouted, pulling out another piece of candy out of his prop necklace placing it in his mouth "Just calm down! I'm okay, alright!" You argued, he just put his arm against the wall glaring at you, you took a deep breath getting ready for your cue "Don't try to tell Thanos the great to- Umpf!" He started until you smacked your lips against his, his hands going to your hips holding you close to his body waiting for the director to call Cut. Whenever he did you were a flustered mess, who knew that man could kiss like that?
After filming wrapped you were quick to get back to your trailer, shutting the door softly behind you before placing your face in your hands trying to take deep breaths, you didn't want anybody to see you like this, you felt stupid and overdramatic, but you and Seung Hyun had gotten really close during your months of filming, and it made you sad thinking about how busy you were, and how little you'd get to see your new friend, you wouldn't say you were an emotional person, but whenever you felt something, you truly felt it to where it'd effect everything you'd do. As you took your final shaky deep breath you jumped hearing the door close "Y/n?.." Seung Hyun asked softly, he thought you had been acting even odder than before as they got closer to his characters death, but after you left while he was saying his thank you's and goodbye's to everybody it was obvious now something was really bothering you. Seeing your teary eyes and tear stained cheeks he felt a pain in his chest "Oh, Jagi" He whispered pulling you into a hug, now Seung Hyun wasn't sure what he felt towards you, but he knew it was something different, he wanted to talk to you everyday, wanted to be the one to comfort you when you're sad, hold you whenever you're scared, and he knew friends didn't want that with other friends.
"I really liked hanging out and meeting you Seung Hyun" You sniffled stepping back, starting to bow in respect but he stopped you "Is that what you've been so upset about?" He asked, a soft smile playing on his lips, you just shrugged against his hold on you, not trusting your voice to speak "I didn't think you'd miss me that bad" He smiled, leading you over to sit on the couch that was placed in the bigger space of the trailer "I can't...have alot of friends...I mean you know, and being here, I feel like I finally found one, and I don't know when I'll see you again" You frowned, feeling tears start to build back up in your eyes, his expression was quick to match yours as he hugged you again "You'll see me again, y/n, don't worry I don't care if I have to buy V.I.P tickets to see you at every show, you're too cool to just not be your friend after this" He smiled giving you a slight squeeze before pulling away, you sniffled wiping your face "You wouldn't pay, I'd let you come watch backstage" You whispered, his frown turning into a soft chuckle "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it" He smiled, kissing your forehead softly "I had fun hanging out with you too, y/n" He added on, holding your hand in his gently "Promise we'll see each other again?" You whispered, feeling yourself about to cry again "I swear to you, jagi" he whispered before leaning back pulling you into a hug, holding you until you fell asleep.
Whenever you woke up the feeling of sadness was even heaiver seeing Seung Hyun gone and a small note sitting on the table
'Jagi,
I had to get going in time to make an art show, but I will be back to see you soon! Just over the last month, you've made me feel things I never thought I would be capable of feeling, that's how I knew you were my best friend. Acting with you and all the nights we spent talking will forever be an honor for me, your beauty is like no others, my eyes are drawn it to like a bumble bee to a flower. You give me hope there's a lot of good things to keep trying for, and for that, I will always be grateful for you my jagi.
Yours truly,
Choi Seung Hyun
T O P <3'
Reading the note you felt yourself on the verge of crying again, wanting to smack him for not letting you have a chance to thank him for being so sweet to you, sighing you got up, ready to get finished filming so you could see your best friend again.
--
HAHA MY FIRST SLIGHTLY SAD FIC AND MY FIANCE IS SO PISSED SHE'S GOTTA WAIT FOR A PART TWO!!
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p0orbaby · 2 days ago
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I Feel Alive in the City That You Like
summary: who doesn’t like a bit of gossip?
warnings: none !
a/n: something short for our fav actress, with a little cameo from ale
word count: 1.5k
part 1
-
The bar is tucked away in a side street that smells of sea salt, diesel fumes, and hot pavement—the kind of place you only find by accident or through someone who’s “been coming here for years.” It’s called La Mala Vida, which feels pretentious in an almost charming way, like it’s trying to convince you it’s grittier than it actually is. Inside, the walls are painted a deep crimson that almost glows under dim lights. The ceiling is low enough to feel oppressive, and every table is crammed with people leaning too close, talking too loud, the air thick with cigarette smoke despite the supposed indoor ban.
Your friends are already at a corner booth when you arrive, practically shouting over the music—something vaguely Latin remixed with techno—and you spot Frances first, her sharp red lipstick and a blonde bob so precise it could have been cut with a laser. She’s dressed for drama, as always, in a vintage YSL blazer so cropped it’s practically a shrug, paired with leather trousers that look like they might have been painted on.
“We’ve been here for an hour,” she announces the moment you approach, her tone loud enough to carry over the din of the bar. “I thought you’d forgotten about us.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” you reply, pulling off your jacket—a lightweight cashmere thing that you’d brought only because the evening forecast had mentioned a breeze. You hang it over the back of the chair, careful to keep it away from what looks suspiciously like a puddle of spilled sangria.
“She thought you were avoiding us,” Georgia chimes in, already halfway through her first glass of wine. She’s dressed in an oversized white button-down that she’s knotted at the waist, paired with frayed denim shorts and silver hoop earrings big enough to be used as hula hoops. The effect is effortlessly cool, though you know for a fact she spent 45 minutes in front of a mirror before leaving her hotel room.
“I don’t avoid people I love,” you say, sliding into the seat between them.
“Except Alexia,” Frances says, her grin razor-sharp. “When she’s too far away for you to stalk”
“Frances,” you warn, though your voice lacks any real edge.
“Oh, please. Don’t pretend we haven’t all read the headlines. ‘Football Star’s Mystery Lover’—that was my personal favourite. Or was it the one about how you’ve been jetting between continents like a lovesick heiress?”
“Stop,” you groan, but Georgia is already laughing, her wine glass wobbling dangerously in her hand.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “We didn’t fly all the way to Barcelona just to interrogate you. But we will be taking the opportunity since we’re here”
“You didn’t fly here to see me at all,” you point out. “You’re here for Georgia’s ridiculous ‘self-discovery retreat’”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Georgia protests, though her tone suggests she knows exactly how ridiculous it is. “It’s wellness. I’ve been stressed”
“You live in a Soho loft and do Pilates every morning,” Frances deadpans. “What could you possibly be stressed about?”
“Life,” Georgia says, as though this explains everything.
Frances rolls her eyes, but before she can respond, the waiter arrives to take your drink order. You glance at the menu briefly before asking for a vodka lime and soda.
“Make it a double,” Frances adds for you. “She’s going to need it”
As soon as the waiter disappears, Frances leans forward, her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her hands like a particularly nosy house cat.
“So,” she says, drawing out the word. “How’s Alexia?”
“She’s fine,” you reply, keeping your tone deliberately neutral.
“Fine?” Georgia echoes, clearly unimpressed. “That’s all we get?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know,” Frances says, her grin widening. “Something juicy. Like how she’s already convinced you to move here and start a life of domestic bliss���
“Or how she’s secretly awful in bed,” Georgia adds.
“She’s not awful in bed,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, and both of them pounce on the admission like hungry wolves.
“Ah-ha!” Frances crows, pointing at you. “See, now we’re getting somewhere”
“Stop being so tight-lipped,” Georgia says. “You’re glowing. Look at you. That’s post-orgasm skin”
“Stop it,” you hiss, though your face is already burning.
“Don’t be shy,” Frances says, leaning back in her seat with a satisfied smirk. “We’re your friends. We’re just curious.”
“She’s curious,” Georgia corrects. “I just like making you uncomfortable”
“Why do I hang out with you?” you mutter, though the question is purely rhetorical.
“Because we’re fabulous,” Frances says.
“And because we rescheduled our chemical peel to spend time with you,” Georgia adds. “Now, come on. Give us something. What’s she like when the lights are off? Or on, we won’t judge”
“Jesus Christ,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.
“Fine,” Frances says, waving a hand dismissively. “If you don’t want to talk about that, tell us what you two do when you’re not shagging”
“Normal couple things,” you say.
“Like what?” Georgia presses.
“Like… cooking together,” you offer.
“Boring,” Frances declares.
“Or watching TV”
“Also boring”
“Taking her dog for walks?”
Frances sighs dramatically, as though your relationship is personally offending her. “You’re no fun”
“I’m plenty of fun,” you argue.
“Prove it,” Georgia says.
“How?”
“Call her,” Frances says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Right now”
“She’s busy,” you protest, though your hand is already hovering over your phone.
“She’s not too busy for you,” Georgia says in a sing-song voice, grinning like the devil.
Frances leans back in her seat, folding her arms. “Prove it. Call her. Right now. Or we’ll start making assumptions, and you know we don’t hold back”
“Fine,” you snap, swiping your phone off the table. “But if she gets annoyed, I’m blaming both of you”
“Blame away,” Frances replies, looking positively gleeful.
You don’t bother stepping outside for privacy—this is what they wanted, after all. The bar’s music fades to the background as you scroll for her name, your thumb hesitating for a brief moment before you press call.
She picks up on the second ring.
“Hola,” she says, her voice warm and slightly hushed, like she’s leaning in closer to the phone to hear you better.
“Hi,” you reply, already feeling the tension ease at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing?”
“Dinner with the team,” she says. “What about you?”
“Out with Frances and Georgia,” you say, shooting them a look across the table. “They’re being infuriating, as usual.”
Alexia chuckles softly, and even though the distance between you stretches across an ocean, it feels like she’s right there. “What did they do now?”
“They’re insisting I call you so they can be nosy,” you admit, ignoring the way Frances pretends to yawn theatrically beside you.
“Well, I hope I’m living up to the hype,” Alexia says, the smile evident in her tone.
Frances immediately leans forward, practically yelling into the phone. “She’s not doing you justice, Alexia! We’ve heard nothing spicy”
You slap a hand over the phone’s speaker. “Frances!”
Alexia’s laugh is louder now, melodic and unrestrained. “Is that Frances?”
“And Georgia,” you say, glaring at them both as they descend into a fit of giggles.
“Hi, Alexia!” Georgia shouts, waving as if Alexia could somehow see her through the phone. “How do you feel about long-distance frustration?”
“Ignore them,” you say, lowering your hand from the speaker, though Frances has already leaned halfway across the table.
“Alexia, quick question,” she calls into the receiver. “On a scale of one to ten, how insufferable is she as a girlfriend?”
“Frances!”
“Eleven,” Alexia replies without missing a beat, her voice warm with amusement.
Frances clutches her chest in mock offense. “A woman with taste. I approve”
Georgia’s cackling now, practically falling off her chair. “She’s funnier than you. I like her more already”
“Okay, this was a mistake,” you mutter, though you can’t help the way your lips curl into a smile.
“You’re handling it well,” Alexia teases. “And you haven’t hung up yet, so maybe you secretly enjoy it”
“Maybe I just like hearing your voice,” you counter, softer this time.
There’s a slight pause, just long enough for Frances and Georgia to exchange exaggerated ooohs like a pair of primary school children.
“I miss you,” Alexia says, the sincerity in her voice cutting through their antics.
“I miss you too,” you reply quietly, forgetting for a moment that you aren’t alone.
Frances doesn’t forget. She leans so close you can feel her breath on your shoulder. “Tell her you love her!” she stage-whispers, loud enough to draw stares from the next table over.
You shove her back, pressing a palm to your forehead. “I’m hanging up now”
“Coward,” Frances mutters, smirking.
“Goodnight,” Alexia says, and you can hear the smile in her voice.
“Goodnight,” you reply, the word carrying more weight than usual.
When you finally set your phone down, Frances and Georgia are watching you like vultures circling a carcass.
“Admit it,” Frances says, taking a triumphant sip of her drink. “You’re smitten”
“Completely pathetic,” Georgia adds.
You don’t even bother denying it. Instead, you flag the waiter down for another drink, shaking your head as they burst into fresh fits of laughter.
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livinghalfway · 3 days ago
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Younger Years Pt. 4
Masterlist
Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 2088
Explaining to them what Talia had said did not make the situation any better. While her information had been helpful it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm that raged in them. If anything caused the winds to roar even stronger. They had to know what happened in that room, and the only one that knew was currently 6 years old. Which meant everyone would just have to wait; something this family was never good at especially when it came to personal matters. 
“Talia doesn’t know what really happened to Danyal. Ra’s could have just lied to her, and made Damian swear to never tell her the truth. We all know how much he idolized that man. It would have been easy for Ra’s to convince him it was for the best.” Tim suggests as he types hurriedly at the computer. 
“If Talia thought for a second that he had done something like that it would have come to light by now.” Bruce counters, “Ra’s would still have needed help getting Danyal out of Nanda Parbat, and one of them would have most definitely let it slip to Talia if he had done that.” 
“Which is why Ra’s would have everyone involved killed before they could have done so.” 
“Tim-”
“Crazier things have happened Bruce; multiple people in this family have come back. Why not Danyal?” Tim looks away from the screen for but a second as he interrupts Bruce before focusing back on the screen. A clear sign that he doesn’t want to continue talking about this. 
Bruce leaves Tim to continue his investigation; a part of him hoping that Tim is right. He could never admit that though. It would just be that much more crushing if proven wrong. So he turns attention to Dick, who is still near the med bay ready to rush in if need be.  
“Chum, why don’t you take a rest? Damian is perfectly fine right now, and you look like you need a break.” 
He knew that the reveal of Danyal’s death would hit Dick partially hard as someone who was very protective of his younger siblings. It wouldn’t matter to him that Danyal died before he even knew of his existence. Bruce expected Dick to be consumed with sadness right now. He wasn’t though he was overcome with fury. 
“A rest Bruce? We all just found out that Damian’s twin is dead; that Ra’s did something to make sure Damian wouldn’t tell anyone. And you want me to take a rest?” Dick eyes burned into him as he spoke. “I’ll take a rest once I know what that psychotic old man did.” 
Bruce knows Dick well enough to read between the lines of what his son is saying. He’s angry at Ra’s, yes, but Dick’s angry at himself too. He’s probably wondering why Damian never felt comfortable enough to mention such a big part of himself to them. 
“And we’ll make sure Damian knows that whatever Ra’s said or did was wrong, but you look exhausted right now. At least let me bring a chair over here for you to sit in.” Bruce calmly states to his eldest son. 
It looks like his words haven’t calmed Dick in the slightest, but before he can speak up again a chair is being pulled up next to Dick by Jason. “Jesus Christ Dick, just sit down already. And that’s me agreeing with B on something so you should know that it's not just the old man saying some b.s.” 
It doesn’t take much for Jason to force Dick to take a seat; one hard shoulder shove and he was collapsing into the chair. After which Jason pulls his own chair up next to him. “I’m gonna need you to put an end to this little pity party in the corner, Dickiebird.” 
“I’m allowed to be upset, Jason. We just found out that our brother is dead, and I should have been able to do something. 
“You think I don’t get that? The only difference between us right now though is that I was there; I could have done something to save the kid if I had known.” 
“Jaylad-” 
“No Bruce, if Dick here wants to blame himself for not doing something then he can blame me too.” Jason gives Dick an annoyed look then turns his head towards Bruce, “You’re free to get out of here old man. Can’t believe I’m the one that’s gotta talk some sense into Dick here.” 
He really doesn’t want to leave this conversation where it’s currently at, but when Dick gives him a nod he knows that he should withdraw. Bruce does make a mental note to ask about how the discussion went later; for now though he’ll do as they want.
So for now he moves on to check on his final son, Duke, before doing so though Bruce stops by his office once more for a moment to just sit and think. Once there it doesn’t take long before he is reaching into the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of whiskey hidden away. When he doesn’t feel it though Bruce knows that Alfred must have taken it. 
Of course Alfred knew he had it; that man knows everything that goes on here. 
It’s for the best that it’s gone anyhow he doesn’t need to be repeating past habits from when he lost Jason. That’s the last thing this family needs right now; not when there are still so many questions that need answers. 
In the end it’s Duke who seeks him out first. A mere 10 minutes goes by where Bruce is sitting in silence before a few light knocks echo against the walls around him. After announcing that the person knocking entrance Duke almost hesitantly approaches him. His habit of always tapping his fingers on whatever he was holding a dead give away for how nervous his son must be feeling right now. 
“Hey B,” Duke started, “everyone seems to be going through it right now huh?”
“It would appear so. What about you chum? How are you doing with all this?”
“I’m … not fine, but I know that that’s ok; I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be somewhat affected by the recent news. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else though if that’s ok.” 
Bruce takes a quick steady breath preparing himself for whatever this conversation may bring. “Of course, what did you want to talk about?”
“About what’s going to happen afterwards; when we find out the truth from Damian. Because- If Danyal is … dead then I think asking Damian about who Danyal was as a person, and setting up a memorial of sorts might help everyone with their grief.” 
“That,” his throat feels tight, “that sounds like a wonderful idea, Duke. I’m sure Damian- everyone would appreciate having a setup for Danyal in the manor.” 
Duke seems satisfied with his answer, and with a small smile makes his way out of the office. Before he leaves though he says one last thing, “I’d also make time to call Cass and Steph to give them an update on this before they get home.” 
After that the silence once more takes control of the room while Bruce thinks about the what if’s and the could have been. 
He’s not sure what the future holds for them now, but Bruce does know that whatever comes they’ll deal with it; together. That means he can’t keep sitting here in sorrow; he can’t fall apart again. 
“It’s time to get to work,” is his last thought as he leaves to make his way back to the cave. 
-
The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur, and not in a good way. Damian spits fire anytime anyone steps into his room. He has only willingly allowed Alfred inside to deliver food to him, and even that was met with cautious anger. 
At the very least Damian isn’t trying to escape; some piece of evidence they showed him must have convinced him that what they were saying was the truth. That conclusion is a double edge sword though as now Damian for sure knows that Danyal is gone. Why else would his brother not be here?
Red Hood and Red Robin are the only ones that go on patrol when the time comes. Dick refuses to leave his station at the med bay door knowing that Damian could be transferring back to himself any time now, and Bruce doesn’t want to leave him by himself if that does happen tonight. The two don’t talk much while alone in the cave, but Dick does allow Bruce to momentarily take his place at the door while he takes a moment to refresh himself. 
While it doesn’t actually happen that night the family is definitely in for a surprise when they check in on Damian the next morning, and find the now normal 14 year old boy asleep on the bed. 
Everyone had to hold Dick back so that he wouldn’t wake him up, and in the end it was Alfred who finally managed to convince him to let Damian rest without interruptions. Unfortunately for the sleeping child though this only gives the rest of the family more time to think about what they’re going to ask, and heaven knows he already has a lot to answer for.
-
Damian feels himself slowly waking; his body feels stiff and slow when he attempts to sit up, but otherwise fine. He knows he must be in the med bay since the last thing he remembers was being on patrol with Nightwing and encountering a blinding light. 
When enough of his strength finally returns to him he cracks his eyes open to see his father and brothers all looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Whatever happened must have been a lot bigger than he had originally thought if they are all here with him.  
Slowly he rubs a hand across his face and groans out to everyone in the room, “What happened?” 
No one says anything for a few beats. In fact they all seem to avoid meeting his eyes entirely. Eventually though his father clears his throat before speaking in a voice far too soft and gentle, “Well chum, you got hit with a spell while on patrol. It- It reverted you back to your 6 year old self.”
Oh. 
Oh no. 
That was probably the worst thing he could have been told right now as Damian thinks back to what he was like at that age; to who had been by his side since birth. There is absolutely no way that his long gone other half wasn’t mentioned, or brought up in however long he was in his younger state. 
“I’m frankly surprised to see you all still standing. I was very dedicated to the league at that age.” He’s not going to admit to anything just in case he is wrong though. Danyal is not someone who Damian is ready to speak about. His twin, his brother, and his biggest regret; he’ll never forgive himself for being so brainwashed by Ra’s that he allowed Danyal’s death that day. That he was prepared to do it himself because the older man said it was for the best. 
“You did manage to break Jason's nose!” Duke lightly chuckles as the mentioned man throws a glare, but otherwise remains silent. Followed by more deafening silence from everyone else. 
Dick is the one that finally brings up the elephant in the room, “Dami … who’s Danyal?”
Why did he have to be right about them knowing? Ready or not it seems the truth about Danyal was coming to light it seems. “Danyal was my twin; the other half- the better half of me. I understand that now.”
His eldest brother gently grabs his hand, and holds it in a firm embrace of comfort. He’ll allow it for now. “And what happened to him?” 
Damian can’t keep his past hidden anymore, and Danyal deserves to have his story told. “When we were 10 Gran- Ra’s took Danyal and I away from our studies early one afternoon. He said that he had a couple lessons of his own that he wanted to teach us personally.” 
For one it was a life lesson, and for the other a death sentence. 
… 4 years ago …
“Damian, Danyal, come. You two are about to learn what it truly means to be an Al Ghul.”
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shoresoftheshadowlands · 2 days ago
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For me this is part of my aversion to small-talk and verbal chatting. If its in text, I can usually glance back right away at what was said. When its verbal, I have to struggle so hard and I get headaches quickly trying to hold everything together. It isn't anything against anyone trying to talk to me, it's just I cannot follow it, especially if people are talking too slow, or being too roundabout on what they're trying to convey, which I know is part of the art of small talk. I know its an important skill to have, but damn, it sucks.
It's even worse when it isn't small talk but some kind of lecture I'm getting for some reason, especially when it's complete BS (I live in a household of far rights, if you know you know), or if it's something that is a non issue that, for some reason 'today', it is suddenly their problem (For example, I organize the space behind my desk in a way that works for ME. It is in MY room which I pay rent for. It may look disorganized at first glance but isn't actually messy. Got a lecture today about how I must clean up and organize and so on because partner is coming to visit.
And I basically just said 'Look, this is organized in a way that works for me,' (I did not bother trying to explain how or why it does because it wouldn't matter in the long run trust me) and I explained that anything that does need tidying up I've already begun working on (Which she did not notice whatsoever, and instead got on my ass about 'all the dishes and stuff' which are clean, or was a take out container I'd only just been using moments prior to her walking in so it wasn't like it was sitting here moldy) Queue the 'Well I know you love me but I am beginning to suspect you don't like me very much!' because I am short and to the point and we've done this dance countless times and I'm so tired. I say 'While I'm gone please DO NOT DECORATE MY ROOM FOR ME.'
I come home. Wow, looks like my room is decorated! And there's nick-nacks and shit in place of where my things need to go! Great! I hate it! Exactly what I asked you not to do! COOL! I'm so glad you value your 37 year old disabled adult child's wishes and boundaries!
But even trying to maintain a conversation about it, verbally because her reading comprehension is shit and she doesn't understand what I'm saying even when I write it down very clearly, we are always at an impass of 'wow this lecture is going on for so long I don't even know how we started' or 'nod and agree, it will be over sooner'
the curse of adhd:
i will remember with absolute clarity, when the thought strikes me that i have a text to send someone, that this is the fourth time in three days i've attempted to send this specific text
i will forget, in the time it takes me to pick up my phone, that i picked it up intending to send a text
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suiana · 6 hours ago
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cw: matriarchy, yandere! househusband, fem reader, this is a work of fiction, please don't read further if you're uncomfortable, thanks!
it's the 1950s. men have become the caretakers of the house while women have been tasked with being the breadwinner. the age of revolution, they say! a time period where societal norms have completely flipped. a society where it's a woman's world.
as a woman, you're expected to marry a respectable man. one who knows how to care for the household and love you like a loving man.
thankfully, you've found one. your highschool sweetheart that is just the sweetest thing ever. handsome, tall, and knows his way with tending to homely duties. he even loves you like it's his last day alive!
he's basically society's ideal man. and he's your husband.
but you don't know how to tell him that you want to get a divorce. that you can't keep up with his... oddly obsessive behavior that's suffocating you. how you seem to dread going home, expecting a warm welcome only to get hit by a barrage of accusatory questions of whether you're cheating on him or not.
you love him, you do. but your husband has changed for the worse ever since you two got married a few months ago. perhaps a few weeks after your honeymoon. you know how people are, questioning why there's still no child even after a few months of marriage.
and it's not that you two are infertile. you're just not ready for one yet. you've explained it to him, you want to focus in your career first. your husband should understand that, shouldn't he? he's a man after all.
yet it seems that he thinks otherwise. constantly doing it, asking whether you're seeing others, whether you really love him or not...
it's annoying. and frankly, you've had enough.
you know, you know. men are emotional creatures. they get anxious and angry easily. they just can't help it! it's in their nature after all. but still... if he could just be a little more understanding... a little less... paranoid...
"a d-divorce?"
he gasps, taking a wary step back as he drops the stack of papers to the floor. his eyes are wide, body frozen to the ground. horrified, you could see it in his eyes.
"but honey... we're so happy, aren't we? you love me, don't you?"
you let out a sigh, pinching your nose bridge at his words. yes... yes you do love him. and you still do, you think. but how can you stand a single more day of him acting like you're going out cheating when really, you're working your back off so you can spoil your darling husband?
"I'm just not satisfied with how you're behaving."
you suppose that will work. how will he ever resist a woman's word? not in this era, clearly.
you watch as your husband stares at you, face pale as he brings his hands to his face, murmuring words of despair while he shakes his head.
no, no, no.
this couldn't be happening.
he thought you two were perfect together! what changed?! you love him, don't you? you still come home to him everyday, give him a peck as you walk through those doors! everything was fine! everything is fine!
no, you must've been brainwashed by someone else.
by some... some other manwhore. a good for nothing man who didn't get a proper education, surely!
that's the only other explanation. you must've been seduced! after all, you're a good woman. you could never do any wrong. not in the eyes of the law, not by society, and definitely not in his eyes.
because you're his wife. his beloved wife. you're a good breadwinner, you work hard, you bring him out on dates, you don't abuse him like other wives do...
and in return, he's the perfect husband! he cooks the best food, doesn't he?! all hot and delicious! you said so yourself! he dresses how you like, works out, keeps the house neat and tidy for you, does groceries and makes sure that everything is perfect!
sure, he's a little bit on the protective and anxious side... but can you blame him? you're gorgeous! he's worried you'll be stolen from him while you work! by- by those good for nothing guys that think they should be independent. who do they think they are, working in public when they should be someone's husband? spewing those gender equality crap that you have been talking about too? you've been poisoned. surely.
and the fact that he's not able to provide a child yet? of course he's going to be anxious and overthink! can you blame him? he's just a man!
"please... please don't leave. I'll do anything. anything! you can't leave me! I'll die without you!"
he feels his heart race, sweat lining the skin of his forehead. he's hyperventilating now. can't take the fact that you actually want to leave him.
it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
and yet, the way that you're looking at him is proving him otherwise.
"but you can't leave me! we've been together since high school!"
he tries to plead with you. but you're stone-faced and look like you're not looking to negotiate. his palms grow clammy as he desperately racks his brain for words.
"I'll change! I'll stop... stop asking whether you're cheating on me- you're not, right? you wouldn't cheat on me! i know you wouldn't! you're just misguided!"
then you let out a soft sigh and he feels the last of his restraint snap.
"no! you can't leave me!"
in a second, he's on you, pinning you to the ground. all rationality has left his body but can you blame him? he's just a man. men get emotional easily. that's why it's better for them to stay at home, away from politics where they could easily cause millions of death over a small dispute. at home, where they belong.
"I'm yours! forever and now! you can't just... just throw me away! we took vows! you can't break them!"
fat tears roll down his cheeks, his hands pinning your wrists to the ground. despite the fact that they're more emotional, men have always been stronger. isn't that why they had to go school to be taught how to control their violence? to not raise a hand at anyone no matter how emotional they get?
"I'm your husband! i would never leave you! you can't just leave me too!"
then something in the air shifts and he sniffles softly, gripping your wrists tightly. for the first time in your life, you feel fear. fear for your own life. fear that your darling husband inflicted on you.
"you're not leaving me."
...
"hey have you heard? apparently y/n hasn't been coming into the office lately... I'm worried for her."
"yeah... and i heard that her husband is visiting some rural area for a short getaway. my husband told me."
"i hope she's alright... she should go find him soon. how will her husband ever survive on his own? what if he gets ill?"
and accompany him you will.
for now, no one will ever bother you two ever again. man or woman, society and law alike. just two sould, far from everyone else. as it should be.
as it will always be.
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lavenders388 · 2 days ago
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Hey! i was wondering if you can write a fluff story of kang dae ho x reader in the games! just about him being protective and stuff if you know what i mean!
~When the Sun Hits~
✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚ Kang Dae Ho x Reader
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requested 💌
wc: 709 (short n sweet!)
a/n thank you so much for all the love and all the requests!! I'm getting my nails done soon LOL they're so grown out its hard to write so after that ill be more active!!! ily all<3 -matcha
comfort was hard to come by in this place of death, desperation, and shock, let alone the safety and security you craved. you felt much safer than you did the first game, compared to being alone and confused you now were part of a team, another member claiming to have gone through the games and offering help.
all of the members of your group had such unique personalities, gi hun being the one that originally caught your attention with his assistance in the first game; geum ja and her son's loving arguments providing a sense of sweetness and even occasional entertainment; jung bae's jokes providing humanity in the dark place you've all found yourselves trying to survive in. but no one caught your attention nearly as much as the man closest to your age, dae ho.
dae ho's respectful admiration of gi hun and then jung bae made you smile to yourself. "how could someone be so bubbly after what just happened here?" you wondered to yourself, the situation in front of you becoming more contrasting to the place it was happening in. you giggled to yourself as he shouted "SIR!" at jung bae for the fourth time in a row.
you didnt notice how it made him smile.
your focus shifted as gi hun began explaining the next game. the reality of going through the childhood game-themed blood bath sinking in. you listened intently as he explained what shape to pick. you began to feel less anxious, you knew what to expect and how to survive in the next game; and you weren't doing it alone, you had your team this time.
the thought of that made your demeanor soften. shifting from the feared facial expression to one of relief and appreciation. jung bae notices, asking you kindly "how are you holding up with all of this?" you respond with a smile, appreciating his care "better. I'm glad i found people and even more glad i have an idea of what I'm going into this time."
dae ho smiles again. this time you notice.
"are you feeling better as well? you should be, i mean you're the one who asked him." you said genuinely. he stutters; not expecting you to strike up a conversation with him and a bit embarrassed you noticed him smiling to himself. "i am!" he beams, "I'm also glad to have found a group, thank you for asking." your smile deepens, more than you had wanted it to. "thank you! what did you say your name was again?" you ask; knowing he had told jung bae his name earlier. "dae ho!" he exclaims adorably. "what is yours if you're comfortable sharing?" he asks respectful of the fact you may not want to share personal information at a death game. "y/n!" you say to him with a smile.
this time everyone notices how it makes you smile. jung bae chuckles as he gives gi hun a suggestive look.
"lights out is in 30 minutes." the recorded voice echos throughout the room. your fear returns as gi hun warns that things might get violent as the night progresses. your worry begins to show on your face as you look around, trying to remember where your bed was. the group, especially dae ho notices, and they all agree to let you stay near them for the night.
a silence falls on the group as the players all begin to settle in for the night. you turn around, noticing that dae ho moved from his bunk behind you to a new bed in front of you. you pretend not to notice, afraid you might smile or blush in an obvious way. you deeply appreciated the secure feeling being around this tall, handsome, almost stranger gave you.
he didnt feel like a stranger, you reminded yourself you just knew his name and that he was in the marines. you wanted to learn more; as you went to bed with the comforting stranger in front of you, protecting you from whatever lurked in the darkness, you hoped not just for your survival in the next game, but for your whole group to make it out.
you knew he would protect you against whatever was to come the next day.
✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚
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echo-riot · 2 days ago
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Dating sevika headcanons pt 2 (sfw and some not)
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Sevika’s idea of a “romantic date” is… sitting in a dark alleyway, smoking cigars, and gambling while you perch on her lap, straddling her thick thighs. She’ll never admit it, but she likes how possessive people get when they see you two together. Her way of saying “I love you” is to make the whole room uncomfortable by casually wrapping her arm around your waist and glaring at anyone who dares to look too long.
When you’re mad at her, Sevika doesn’t apologize. Instead, she’ll sulk for a few hours, refusing to speak to you, until she storms back into your shared space, throws you onto the bed, and proceeds to make the entire night about you. “That’s her apology” she’ll grunt, while making sure you’re well taken care of.
Sevika is not a morning person—but if you curl up next to her, she won’t push you away. In fact, she’s more likely to pull you even closer, whispering unintelligible words into your hair as she lazily strokes your back with her human hand, all the while pretending like she’s not the softest thing when it comes to you.
If you ever get jealous, Sevika will smirk and stir the pot even more. Someone flirts with you at a bar? She’ll let it happen, waiting to see if you snap. When you do, she’ll walk up, wrap an arm around your shoulders, and pull you into her side, making it very clear to the other person that you belong to her. She thrives on watching men squirm when they realize she’s not someone you want to mess with.
When she’s really into you, she can’t keep her hands off you. You’ll be sitting across from her at the table, and next thing you know, she’s pulling you onto her lap like it’s nothing, leaning in to kiss you while making sure everyone around knows she’s already claimed you. Not that you’re complaining.
Sevika will NEVER let you get anywhere near Shimmer. Don’t even try to argue about it—if you bring it up, she’ll turn into a brick wall. But she will quietly sigh in relief when you’ve safely fallen asleep after a long day, knowing that you’re not as reckless as she was.
When she’s drunk, Sevika gets unexpectedly affectionate. She’ll still be tough as nails, but if you catch her after a night of drinking, you’ll find her whispering sweetly in your ear about how much she appreciates you, and how she’s glad you don’t make her feel like a monster. It’s rare, but those little moments hit hard. Don’t mention it the next morning though, or you’ll get a sarcastic “Shut up.”
You don’t need to worry about her “losing her edge.” Sevika loves you, but you’ll never see her weak. She’ll take care of everything—running the show, leading the crew, and doing it all while still making sure you’re fed, rested, and properly spoiled (even if she pretends she’s too busy for it). Her love language is protectiveness, and you’ll never have to ask for it—she’ll just give it, in her own way.
Sevika has a low tolerance for bullshit. You want to fight with her? She’ll shut you down quickly. But don’t think you can walk away from her without a solution. You might be forced to sit down and listen to her explain how everything can be fixed, while she subtly leans in to kiss you as if to remind you that, despite all the chaos, she’s always got your back.
Sevika loves when you tease her about her arm. She’ll act like it bothers her, giving you a gruff response, but deep down, she’s secretly pleased you noticed the little details about her. So you might catch her in the middle of a conversation trying to subtly flex her arm to see if you’re watching.
You ever tell Sevika you love her? Expect the longest silence. But if you’re close enough, you’ll hear her mumble “Yeah, me too,” under her breath, her hand gripping you just a little bit tighter than usual. Don’t expect a full confession anytime soon, but her actions speak louder than any words she’d say.
Sevika isn’t the best at “gentle” love-making, but she knows exactly what you need. She’ll have you begging for her touch, your back arched and your breath ragged, and when she’s done with you, she’ll act like it was just another night—but you know she won’t let you go easily after that.
Don’t let her drink too much, or you’ll find yourself with a Sevika that becomes surprisingly clingy, needing your constant attention. She’ll never admit it, but when she’s tipsy, she’s vulnerable, and the cold, hard exterior starts to melt just a little bit. Enjoy it while it lasts, because she’ll be back to her usual intimidating self by morning.
When she’s worried about you, Sevika might try to hide it by acting gruff and dismissive, but the tension in her shoulders says it all. She’ll never say it aloud, but if anyone even thinks of threatening you, they’re as good as dead.
Sevika may be the toughest person in the room, but when you’re the one she’s holding close, she’ll make you feel like the only person that matters. Don’t think she’ll say it outright, but you’ll feel it in the way her hand wraps around your waist, keeping you anchored to her in a world that’s constantly moving.
Sevika’s definition of “cuddling”: It’s not the soft, romantic kind. You’re in her lap, head resting on her chest, and she’s just grumbling about something—probably work—but she lets you stay there because she secretly loves the closeness. And even if she acts like she doesn’t, her fingers will trace circles on your back, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
In the dead of night, when she’s holding you close and you’re almost asleep, you’ll feel her hand tighten around you ever so slightly. She’ll breathe in, and though the words don’t come, the feeling is all there—she’d die for you, and she will die for you.
Sevika’s smiles aren’t easy to come by, but when you pull off something unexpected, like making her laugh at a sarcastic quip or doing something that touches her heart, she’ll crack the tiniest of smiles. And she’ll try to hide it, but you’ll catch it. When she smiles, it’s all you need to know you’re doing something right
You’re tough in your own way, and that drives Sevika wild. Whether it’s your physical strength or the way you handle things emotionally, she admires you deeply for not breaking under pressure. She’ll never admit it outright, but seeing you take charge in tough situations makes her think you’re even hotter than she already does.
If you’re ever in trouble, don’t expect her to be the type to coddle you. She’ll patch you up, maybe scold you a little for getting hurt, and then tell you to “get back out there” and finish the job. But if you really need comfort, she’ll stand guard over you like a wall and make sure no one gets close.
Good luck. Sevika doesn’t stop moving. Whether it’s upgrading her arm or keeping things under control in Zaun, there’s always something for her to do. But if you manage to corner her and drag her into a quiet space, she’ll let herself relax just enough to let you pamper her. (But only for a while—she’ll grumble the entire time.)
if she messes up, she’ll apologies in the best way she knows how. That usually means hours of intense physical affection, pushing you to the edge of your patience as she tries to make it up to you. In her mind, actions speak louder than words. (And she does know how to use that damn arm of hers to make things extra interesting.)
Don’t try to kiss Sevika when she’s angry—she’ll push you away. But the second she cools off, she’ll drag you close by your collar and kiss you like she hasn’t seen you in years, all pent-up frustration and heat. And you will need a minute to catch your breath when she’s done.
Sevika isn’t a patient woman in general, but she has an unexpected amount of patience when it comes to you. Whether it’s waiting for you to finish a project, allowing you to take your time with things, or handling your quirks, she’ll do it without complaint.
Sevika might not be the type to say it out loud, but she’s incredibly proud of you. Whether you accomplish something big or even just make it through a tough day, she’ll make sure to let you know you’ve done well. It’s usually in a low, gruff voice, but you’ll feel her pride all the same.
Although she hides it well, the thought of losing you terrifies Sevika. She’s seen a lot of loss in her life, and even though she tries to act tough, she’s scared of not being able to protect you. So, she keeps you close, watches over you, and does everything in her power to make sure you’re safe, even if she doesn’t always know how to express her fear.
NSFW part:
When Sevika wants you, she’ll take what she wants without hesitation. Her kisses are forceful, hungry, and demanding. She’ll shove you against a wall, press her body against yours, and kiss you until you can’t breathe. The kiss might be rough, but she loves the control it gives her and the way you melt into her touch, surrendering to the moment.
Sevika loves being on top, where she can control the pace, angle, and intensity. She’ll pin you down beneath her, leaning over you, taking you hard and fast, while her grip on your body tightens. She’s not afraid to get rough—she’ll hold your wrists down or press your body into the mattress.
She’ll whisper dark, degrading things in your ear, telling you how well you’re taking her, how much she owns you, or how good you are for her. She loves hearing you moan at her words, and she’ll push you even further, knowing exactly what turns you on. When she talks dirty, she’s not shy about it, She’ll talk down to you, telling you exactly how pathetic you are for her, but there’s always a hint of praise, too. When you do something she enjoys, she’ll whisper just how well you’re doing—whether it’s taking her or satisfying her desires—her praise is rough but addictive, making you crave more.
She’ll take you from behind, holding you in place while she takes what she wants. She’s not shy about her dominance and enjoys how submissive you become under her touch. She’ll pull your hair or grip your throat, enjoying how you yield to her every command.
She’s more than just dominating; she’s passionate and raw, needing to feel you as much as you need to feel her. There are moments when she’ll hold you close, burying her face in your neck as she comes down from her high, whispering apologies in her raspy voice for being too rough, even though she knows she could never be “too much” for you.
Sevika loves getting you both messy. She’ll have you both drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around you, her fingers digging into your skin. The way she leaves you breathless and spent is exactly how she likes it—no rules, no holding back.
Sometimes, Sevika won’t care about your pleasure at all. It’s all about her satisfaction, and she expects you to follow her lead, giving her what she needs. It’s not that she doesn’t care about you, but when it comes to those selfish moments, she’s focused on how good it feels to take control of you—body and mind. Once she’s had her fill, she’ll relax a bit and turn her attention back to you, ready to reciprocate.
Sevika’s thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one timed to perfection. She’ll pull back just enough to make you ache before driving it back in, letting you feel every inch of it. She’s in no rush to finish—her focus is on making you feel every moment, stretching you out and pushing you to your limits. You’ll be begging her to go faster, but she loves making you work for it.
Sometimes, she’ll get you right about to cum, and just when you’re about to break, she’ll slow down, making you beg for release. Other times, she’ll thrust harder and faster, making sure you’re overwhelmed by the sheer force of it all.
Sevika’s strap-on is more than just a tool; it’s a way for her to make you feel completely filled, both physically and mentally. She’ll make sure you feel every inch, every thrust, making sure you know exactly how deep she can go. She’s not shy about letting you know that she owns you in these moments, her every action pushing you closer to the edge of your pleasure and submission.
For Sevika, the line between pain and pleasure is incredibly thin. She’ll mix in a little bit of light pain while using the strap-on, whether it’s slapping your ass or pinching your nipples, to make the pleasure even more intense. Every time she thrusts, you’ll feel a mix of sweet pleasure and sharp sting, and she’ll make sure you feel every bit of it. But don’t worry—when you need a break, she’ll ease off for just long enough to let you catch your breath before starting again.
Sevika isn’t just about the hard, fast fuck; she enjoys experimenting with sensation play. She’ll run her fingers over your body as she uses the strap-on, teasing you with light touches, soft brushes, or even ice cubes, to build the tension. The strap-on will feel even more intense when your body is sensitized to every touch, and she’ll revel in how your body reacts to her every movement.
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princesscolumbia · 5 hours ago
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As someone who writes about aliens, I'm just going to say it's not a big spiritual deep-dive to write about them, either. Space aliens, illegal aliens, trans-universal/timeline aliens, cybernetic beings that are technically alien life...you name it, you can write about it with research and...
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(Goddess help me, I just used a Spongebob meme!)
There's a post that circulates about how Tom Clancy has never served in the military but writes remarkably accurate military fiction. When asked, he explains that it's pretty much just him thinking through, "What would happen if abc did xyz? How would we handle it through a military lens?"
Of course, this requires that you put enough in your head so you can think through these kinds of questions in a logical and reasonable way, so this, also, requires research. It won't always look like what you think it does.
I have a project that (minor spoilers for those reading my stuff) has a plot thread that concludes about 400-600 years from now where humans are basically hybrid beings, nearly equal parts nanite and organic tissue. Not cyborgs, the synthetic bits aren't something added in, they're born with them, having received both the genetic material AND the nanites from their parents. By the time they're born, the nanites from both parents have reconfigured to be unique to the child's nanites as an amalgam of the nanites from both parents. The nanites basically make the humans immune to any previously encountered disease, repair ALL damage, even just the damage caused by aging, and allow the human to learn to control the nanites to directly shape their own body. In this transhuman future, the human consciousness isn't even necessarily confined to that particular body because it lives just as much in the nanite swarm as it does in the blob of tissue that forms the organic parts of the body, so even the total obliteration of the physical form isn't necessarily lethal so long as they have a connection to a network and enough time to escape through that connection. (Surprise ground-zero nuclear explosion or teleportation to the center of a star would do it, but even said nuclear explosion could be escaped with a fast enough network connection.) Said network connection can be always on, and for most people it is, simply because it gives them access to all of the rest of humanity no matter how alone they may be IRL. Since the nanites are simply part of the person's entire framework of who they are, the build instructions for new nanites would be constantly updated in the person's...person-hood framework in their consciousness 'blob' on the network. If the person had to do this kind of jump, they'd simply find the appropriate machinery connected to the 'net to build their nanite swarm, which would then seek out the appropriate organic components to build them a new body and they just move into that.
While I was workshopping this as an end-point for this particular series, I stumbled onto a series on ScribbleHub that...sadly seems to have languished, because I'd love to see how the stories in the series end! But, the central premise is about humans making first contact with an alien intelligence that is based on mycelium. They're a complex multicellular life form that exists in a networked-by-default state. The individuals exist inside a collective consciousness as distinct individuals and have their own cluster of cells in the colony, but they have a somewhat loose relationship with the physical world because they can simply grow custom tailored bodies from the cellular colony and then inhabit said body, break it off, then go about their business. They can sever their connection completely or keep it going remotely, and everything we would do with tech and tools they do by just growing whatever tech and tools they need from their own collective cellular mass.
The two ideas smashed together in my head and I realized something...
Individuals exist untethered from a single corporeal form
They live connected to others as both a community thing and a survival thing
They can exist as nothing but a concept but prefer to be tethered to a physical form, regardless of how instantiated it is or how big or small the physical form is
They can build themselves bodies from the ground up so long as the resources and network connection exists
The smallest unit of survival for propagation is a single cell. Sure, that single cell may not be able to do much and may not be connected to the collective, but it can replicate, and from that replication, create enough more of itself to rebuild an entire civilization if necessary
The collective is just as important and invaluable as the individual and everyone in the community is incentivized to maintain their collective since that's where they keep all their stuff. (And by "stuff" I mean "all the memories and experiences and everything that makes me 'me' is at least backed up in part of the complete whole of all the everything else about my people and my community")
Their perspective shifts from time scales of years and decades to centuries and millennia
Life experiences and knowledge and even basic empathetic understanding can be transmitted to others easily because it's just data and data can be copied and sent easily
I realized that between what Murbellass and I wrote, there's a convergent evolution happening on the galactic scale.
It all comes back to crab mushrooms.
(While this creates an interesting setting, I didn't really have anything but the setting until @machoestofmen showed me some humanoid automata monsters from Dragon Quest XI that trap creatures in the cages that make up their lower halves and look like dresses and they suggested, "What if this but forcefemme?" and I'm all, "Sounds like a mechanical version of HDG...wait..." and now I've got ANOTHER damn plot bunny in my head where all of these ideas come together in a story that takes place about a thousand years from now...)
MY POINT is...I don't know any mushroom people. To the best of my knowledge, no mycelium are connected to the Internet for me to ask, "Hey, how does this work for you?" But I don't have to. By exposing my mind to new stories, new ideas, new things to research that I've never encountered before, I'm able to imagine how such things might happen, what occurs when xyz meets abc, and then extrapolate the 'What happens next?!' from there.
if you’re white and wanna write a poc character and feel awkward about it i implore you to ignore any twitblr stuff treating it as a massive ethical burden and instead come in more with the same mindset you’d have if you wanted to write about idk firefighters but didn’t know anything about firefighters so you do... research. Like fuck off with the weird kinda creepy calls for spiritual introspection you’re not writing about god damn space aliens you’re writing about humans and if you think you need more perspective of different life experiences just read?
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fl3shm4id3n · 2 days ago
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ʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬, 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-��ʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ꜱɪɴɢᴇʀ/ʀᴀᴘᴘᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, smoking, slut shaming, criticism from the public, death, blood, Thanos having the hots for reader, reader is kinda based on Megan Thee Stallion.
A/N: I've been listening to Megan Thee Stallion and Doja Cat again, I got some inspiration.
Masterlist
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You were know as the infamous rapper 'Cherry' due that signature bright red color you wore all the time. You were at your golden age, everyone loved you. Specially young women your age, probably due because you sang songs about women struggles and anything involving women. Everywhere you went, you got recognized. You asked to take photos, sign pictures and other kinds of merch that your fans had in hand. You didn't mind, you loved your fans. They were the reason you became famous in the first place.
But then, you began to get criticized, according to a much older audience you were vulgar and not very lady like. They also criticized your music and how it was a bad influence to the younger generation. Not to mention your music videos. They criticized those too, simply because you wore very provocative outfits and danced inappropriately. The final straw was when you were spotted smoking cigarettes outside a night club. You got criticized even more. You even got slut shamed for it. You didn't understand the hate you got, you wondered if you were a man, would they still treat you the same?
You began to loose deals, no one really wanted to work with you. Scared about their reputation, you understood their explanation. It just sucked that you couldn't do what you really love. At some point, you had considered in no longer making music. But your fans had encouraged you to keep doing music, some even suggested you move to the States. You thought about it for a while now. Moving to the States wasn't so bad, you knew they weren't as critical as they were here. So you've made up your mind and decided to move to the US. But there was a problem, you barely had any money. That was going to be a problem, and your savings weren't going to cover the expenses. You needed money and needed it fast.
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So, here you were. Dressed in a green tracksuit with the number '013'. You were told you'll be playing some games and get a huge amount of cash. There was a lot of people, were they here for the money too? Interesting. You were explained the rules and even signed a consent form and all that. While you were getting escorted to the first game, but first you had to get your picture taken. As you waited in line, you noticed a group of people huddling over a guy with purple hair. You knew right away who it was, it was the one and only Thanos. You were a huge fan of his, you had wanted to do a collaboration with him at some point.
"Omg, is that Cherry?!" Someone said, making everyone in that small group turn to look at you. "It is!" Someone else chimed in. Then they began to try and get you to go over to take a picture. Even Thanos chimed in. "Hey, I don't mind one more person, come on." He encouraged, before you could say anything, the guard came over and had told the group that they couldn't take picture that way, they had to be individual. No matter how much they begged to make an exception. The guard said no, Thanos then told that after the games, he'll take pictures with all of them. They all agreed and processed to get in line to get their pictures taken. When it was your turn, you made sure your hair was descent then processed to do your signature pose. You wondered if you could get your picture printed.
As you continued to walk to the destination of the game. A girl behind you, better known as player 196. "You're Cherry right?" She asked. "The one and only." You responded, she kind of squealed in excitement. "OMG, I always wanted to meet you in person. I've been to every single concert of yours!" She said, you couldn't help but smile and chuckle. "You have?" She asked. "Of course. I love your album RED, I listen to it 24/7." She explained excitedly. "I wish I had my phone so I can take a picture with you. Maybe even follow each other on Instagram." She said, still very excited to be right next to her idol.
Once outside, you and player 196 were still right next to each other. You had a feeling that she'd be stuck with you for the rest of the games, you didn't mind. "Hey, Señorita." You heard someone say behind you. You and player 196 turn to see who it was. It was the one and only Thanos. "Don't you know who I am?" He asked, while walking along side you and 196. "Do we have to?" She asked. "I do. Thanos The Mad Titan." You responded, making Thanos smile. "Das right. We can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself." He said, directly at you. "Are you hitting on me?" You couldn't help but asked. "Oh yeah, he definitely is." 196 said in response.
"In the sea of faces, you caught my eye. My beauty, my flower blooming among weeds." He paused as he sang to catch his breath. "Red, orange, yellow, green. I'm a legend Thanos." He finished as he did his very known pose. You and 196 listened and watched as he continued to small rap. "Look at us in this blue-green. Now give me the green light." He paused, then look directly at you. "I like you!" He said, as he did the heart with his pointer finger and thumb, then wiggled his eye brow at you. You couldn't help but chuckle and feel your face heat up. "Do you even know who she is?" 196 asked. "Of course I do. The one and only Cherry." He said, but then he continued. "'I'd rather be a B.I.T.C.H 'cause that's what you gon' call me when I'm trippin' anyway'. Real Hot Girl Shit, Ah! " He finish his sentence with a quote from one of your songs and your catch phrase, as he then posed just like you did earlier in your picture. Making you chuckle. "I never thought thee Thanos listens to my music." You responded. "Of course I do. I know talent when I see it." He said. "Ya know, red really is your color. That lipstick suits you well." He said confidently. You couldn't help but smile at him.
Then the game rules were explained. It was green light, red light. It should be easy right. Then a guy began to yell and scream on what to do and what not to do. Who even was he. When the game started, he continued to yell and tell everyone not to move. "Freeze! Nobody move!" He yelled. You, Thanos and 196 stood still near each other. "Is he high or what?" 196 asked. "Nope. No one is like that when they're high." Thanos added. "Then he must be drunk or off his meds." You also added. You then heard a small bug fly by. You followed it with your eyes and noticed how it landed right on player 196. "What's that?" She asked, still not moving. "He knows you're a flower. There's a bee on you." Thanos teased. "A bee?!" She then began to freak out an move like crazy. You remained still, just watching her.
She stopped then turn to look at you and Thanos. "Crap, I just moved." She said as she chuckled. Then a gunshot was heard, followed by 196 getting her brains blown and falling right in front of you. Both you and Thanos got splattered in her blood and some brain matter. Even at that, you still remained frozen. Your eyes shifted to look down at her, seen a huge bullet wound on her forehead along with blood. The bee had come back and landed onto her cheek. The man yelled again. "Do not move!" He warned. You were frozen, you just witnessed someone getting shot. You wanted to scream, but you didn't. You feared that if you moved, you'd be next. Then people began screaming and running. Gun shots were heard and people were getting shot. Despite that, you still didn't move. You didn't want to die like this.
For the remainder of the game, you followed the guys instructions. It was obvious that you were scared, but you kept on going. You threw yourself across the finish line. Relieved that you were alive.
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Back at the lobby, you were sitting on the floor near your bunk. Still breathing heavily, your hands were shaking. You were also slightly biting your extra long stiletto red nail on your pointer finger, nervously. You felt yourself slightly gag, you then covered your mouth with your hand. Feeling sick. Nothing came out, but your stomach was turning. You didn't even notice Thanos sitting next to you. "You okay?" He asked. You then uncovered your mouth. "I'm good, no worries." You said, still shaky. Thanos noticed and took your hand into his. Giving them small rubs and trying to ease your nerves. His hand were pretty warm and felt very comforting. You were more calm by his small kind gesture.
A bit letter, the same man began to argue with the pink men. Asking about the votes and all that. You weren't focus on any of that, you were more focus on what the hell you jus witnessed. The image of that girl was engraved in your head. You sure needed therapy after this. When the pink showed the amount of money in the piggy bank, your eyes were glued to the clear piggy. Seen that much money all together. Made your worries go away. All that money could help you get to the States and more. When you heard the more eliminated players, more money will be added. Was it bad that you wanted to stay for more? Who care if people will die, they're fucked from the get go. They'd either die here or out there.
When it came to the voting, a lot of people voted to stay. There was arguing with that guy. Claiming he played these games before. But no one really cared, people chose to stay and play. When it was your turn, you pressed O and given the O velcro patch to put on your jacket. When you headed to the O side, Thanos and some guy stood right next to you. "Good choice Señorita." He said with a goofy smile. "I need to the money, so. Either I get it here or I go back home empty handed." You simply said, almost cold. Thanos nodded his head, then wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. "Just stick with me, I'll protect you." He said, very confident. He then leaned down and literally licked the blood off your cheek. You groaned, but didn't mind. You couldn't help but chuckle by his action.
"You a freak or something?" You asked, while you wiped the saliva off your cheek with the jacket sleeve. "Baby, I'll be whatever you want me to be." He said, with a smirk while looking directly at you. You couldn't help but slightly bite your red bottom lip. Almost as if you were flirting with him. "I like you, like really like you." He said. "You only just met me today." You added. "Pfft, so? The moment I saw you, I knew I'd like you." He said with a flirtious smile. "Maybe this is fate." You teased. "Ya know, maybe I didn't get all the infinity stones." He said. You raised your brow. "Oh? And why is that?" You asked. "Well, I do have purple, yellow, blue and green. But, there's one missing." He said. "And that one is?" You asked. Thanos then responded. "I just need red. Red is the Reality stone." He said. You tilted your head to side, waiting for him continue. "And Baby, you're my reality." He said with a wink. You couldn't help but roll your eyes and laugh at his corny line. "What? It's true." He said. Maybe being in these life and death games wasn't going to be too bad.
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peachy-writings · 15 hours ago
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PARADOX | Viktor AU
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Summary: Reader receives the shock of their life when Viktor essentially materializes into their world, forever altering their version of reality as he tries to get back to his own.
Content Tags: Gender neutral reader with They/Them pronouns (no use of Y/N), Kinda follows S2 Pt. 2 canon, Angsty, Vi and Jayce deceased in this universe, Strangers to Friends?
Note: May become a series, or at least a 2-parter if people like it!
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Sulfur.
That tang has always sprinkled pockets of air in the Undercity, to the extent that those dwelling within barely take notice anymore. Therefore, when you do, it takes you by surprise. You glance around the room, troubled. Had the ventilation system halted? Or worse—had Piltover’s best decided to poison your already polluted oxygen with sewage, or something similarly offensive? And then a sharp, metallic singe punches you square in the nose. So sudden that your eyes squash shut, overwhelmed.
After taking a moment to reorient, you are shocked by the sight of a man scorched onto the coarse floorboards of your shabby homestead. Like a meteor had cannoned through the building, but a cursory glance upward reveals no such destruction.
Even more curious is the man’s appearance; he is a sinewy splat, draped in a white robe, crumpled on his side and perfectly pristine. Despite the edges of his garment and the surrounding space having been kissed with char. Mahogany tresses cover most of his pale face, shifting over sharp peaks as he stirs to consciousness. All the while, you are struck statuesque with bewilderment and a whisper of utter captivation.
How?
Who?
Why?
The stranger groans, a hand coming up to soothe his head that must be pounding from such a sudden entrance. Amber eyes blink open slowly into a squint. Confusion, then some kind of realization has his eyes widening when they meet your own. Your expression must match his as the two of you scrutinize one another, a pregnant pause scribbling the walls of your mind with even more questions that you cannot fathom one single answer to.
“Tell me…” He breaks the silence with an accent that tells you he is a Zaunite, in spite of such an odd appearance for this origin. “Do you know who I am?”
“No,” you reply softly, cautiously. And then your walls come up, as though your subconscious punches an internal panic button. No matter how otherworldly this materialization has been, this is still a stranger. “You better explain whatever the hell this is before I manually eject you from my home.”
A nimble hand reaches for the nearest weapon: a knife you’d left out on the counter to be washed. In his direct line of sight, you hold the flat of the blade against your thigh, posed to get rid of any threat quickly and efficiently.
“There is no need for that.” He says your name. Your real, given name. You almost don’t react since it’s been eons since the last time you’ve heard it said aloud. That hand at your side clenches the hilt of the blade—Not in anger, but petrification. “You don’t seem to know me in this timeline. I promise I am not here to hurt you, but to ask for your help. You are the only person I can trust.”
“How do you know my name, and what do you mean by in this timeline?” You take a step backward, bumping into the counter and jolting when the rough surface meets your clammy skin.
“I will answer all of your questions, but first,” he clears his throat. “May I have some water?”
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Viktor is the name of your unexpected guest. This is the first thing you learn about him, after he drains two full glasses of water. The second piece of information you glean is that he is a scientist from another version of your world. A version in which you knew one another. In fact, the two of you were co-creators of a scientific breakthrough in his world with Jayce, another man you don’t know. Supposedly, this creation led him to end up here, on the other side of your dining table, looking as if he has been through hell and back.
While it is an interesting anecdote, you still do not trust that he isn’t someone sent by the heathens that haunt your past. How can you even believe something so utterly improbable? Does this man take you as a fool?
“If you are who you say you are, from where you say you’re from, how can I know that? How can I know what your intentions are? That little magic trick was impressive, but if you’re a minion of my father’s, I will find you out and you won’t be leaving in one piece.” You begin in an even tone, but work yourself up to a growl by the time the last words rattle from your mouth.
A small smile quirks the left side of his mouth upward. Fed up, you plant the tip of your knife into the table in the blink of an eye. “Your time is up.”
“Wait! I can prove it,” Viktor sputters, shock widening those gemlike eyes. “You cannot stand the way looking into deep water makes you feel. You have a need to protect those weaker than you, especially if they are children. And one of your dreams is to be able to ride in one of those fancy carriages the wealthy do, no matter how much you despise them.”
Your stomach churns, nauseous from the fact that all he said is true, even the truths that solely live in the back of your mind, never voiced to another soul. He explained himself perfectly— The how, the why, and the who— but you have great trouble comprehending that what he says could be— No, it is true. It has to be, right?
Is he attempting to disarm you so that he can kill you? No. The man could barely stand and make his way across the room to his chair. He is weak. He is begging you for help. And worst of all, he knows another you. That fact makes you feel as though you stand in front of him exposed. He has all of the power, even though you could take him out in seconds.
“What are your intentions?” You finally ask after a good few minutes trapped in lip nibbling thought.
“I am determined to get back to my world, with your help of course.” His tone is so annoyingly matter-of-fact, it brings out some of the bitterness you’ve been attempting to wrangle since he first said your name.
“And how am I supposed to help you? Clearly I’m no big scientist in this world!” Frustration is the way you naturally cope with all of this.
“That is fine, but you still harbor a love for inventing, do you not? Over there.” He points to a shelving unit on the other side of your living space. “That was your favorite creation: A simple device perhaps, but it works as a security system for the community, to warn children and the weak of impending danger. Your city would be left vulnerable without your work.”
That crude little contraption is, in fact, your proudest work. A vaguely cat-like creature that joins two wires when provoked, to make a noise the whole town can hear. To give the people enough of a warning to protect what they hold dear… If only there was someone in your hometown that had such a thought. Maybe you would have ended up in Piltover with your version of Viktor. Maybe things would have been different.
A deal is finally struck after hours of slow conversation. The two of you sit at that table until you can hear his stomach growl, and his expression screams exhaustion. Over a meal you almost burn in your distracted state, you agree to try to help him. But in exchange, he must answer all of your questions about the other version of yourself.
He agrees, of course, but not without a warning that some things are better left unknown. That flying too high does, in fact, come with grave consequences. You can only imagine the horrors those tired eyes have seen. A man beyond his years, steeped in tragedy, from a world that seems a whole lot better than yours. How so? You must know, even if it destroys you.
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First thing on the agenda is to get Viktor equipped with a cane or crutch and some regular clothes. You learn of his disability and the impact growing up in the lower levels of Zaun has taken on his overall health. As he tells you more about his life, you wonder if the two of you could have been friends if you’d bumped into each other organically. Even though he has an irritating air of knowing what you do not, something about the way he looks at you makes you feel… odd. You mull this over as you browse the town market for the items on your shopping list.
Kids run between peoples legs, causing a man to fall on his ass and yell after them. They laugh and sprint faster with reckless abandon. A woman with a large basket of goods spins gracefully to save herself from the same fate, giggling as she adjusts her grip. The smells of the street food and perfumes and the people fill you with a sense of pride in your environment. A moment of peace amongst the absolute shitstorm that awaits you back home.
Last night, you were unable to get much rest with a virtual stranger on your couch. The lack of sleep as well as all that you’ve gleaned from the sudden appearance of Viktor has left you pensive. Your hand skates over the fabric of a plain shirt and you wonder what he usually wears, how he would look in something more familiar to you. It isn’t lost on you that this man is attractive, and his attentive attitude toward you leaves room to wonder just how close he was to the other you. You could see yourself falling for him, maybe in a different life. A fleeting thought that causes you to chuckle under your breath. There is no time for such thoughts, never has been.
A slightly banged up, but still fine-looking, cane catches your eye and you immediately inquire about it. It would cost nearly the rest of the coins in your pouch, the money you need to use for food. You stand dumbly in front of the grizzly man that runs the small shop off the top of beaten up tables, a hand on your chin as you go over your options. All the while, the man in front of you looks unamused at your indecision.
As he goes to spew some most likely unkind commentary, you hear a familiar voice bellow from behind you. “What’cha doing at the market? I never see you here.”
“Powder!” You chirp in surprise as your blue haired friend rounds you, peering curiously at the cane sat atop the table.
“What the hell do you need this for?” She considers the object, not paying any mind to the vendor as she holds it in front of one eye, mimicking peering through a telescope. “Some kind of sex thing, huh? Always knew you were a bit…” She makes an inappropriate gesture that shocks you into temporary silence.
“Whatever,” you disregard, gently prizing the item from her sly hands. You sigh as you roll it up and down your palms. There is no doubt it was made well, with consideration for anyone who may need it. “I was just trying to decide if it was worth the coins.”
“Ah, I see. Old man Harry’s marking up his goods again?” One pointed look from her has the aforementioned scrambling to explain himself, but she interrupts him. “How much did you get this for?”
“Well, you see, I- I didn’t buy it, so much as acquire it,” he splutters.
Powder hums. “And so you’re gonna make our people pay out the ass for some stolen goods?” She shakes her head, scolding him with a simple motion.
“Fine, I’ll lower the price.“ He chuckles nervously. “And tell Vander I say ‘Hi’.”
“With pleasure!” Powder remarks, her infectious smile beaming at him as she drops a small fraction of your coins into his open palm.
The two of you swiftly exit the area with all of your items stuffed into a rough, burlap pouch. The cane hangs safely from the strap, rhythmically thudding against your leg as you rush forward. Powder is hot on your heels, no matter how hard you try to lose her on the way home. She is relentless as always, too inquisitive for your own good.
Shit, she can’t see Viktor, you think. But there is no stopping her once a seed is planted in her head.
“You gotta tell me what all this is for, c’monnnnn,” she whines as you arrive at your doorstep.
“I’ll talk to you later, I just have a lot to do and it’s all so boring, you should just—“
With no consideration for your privacy, your friend bursts into the front door. Viktor is in plain view of the doorway, sitting on your grungy couch with a book poised in one hand. His eyes widen at the sudden invasion, taking in your embarrassment and then focusing solely on Powder.
“Ha! I knew it was a sex thing,” she exclaims, all the while you attempt to push her out of the door, talking over her in an attempt to distract from her brash exclamation.
“You.” Viktor’s voice is barely audible, but the iciness to it causes pause for both you and Powder. He scrambles for something, eventually landing on a glass vase that he holds as if to defend himself.
As you look between the two, it clicks that something must have happened between them in Viktor’s original world. Now is not the time for theorizing though. The energy in the room is building and you must get Powder out of here. A protective feeling overpowers you as Viktor glares at the girl.
“Jinx,” he spits at her, then he turns to you. “Why did you bring her here?”
“Whoa, okay. Chill out. What the hell did I do?” Powder’s hands fall onto her hips and her bottom lip pokes out in a provoking manner.
“She’s dangerous, get her away from me!”
“Wow, your boyfriend’s being rude—“
“He’s just a friend,” you grit out, nearly seething now. A harsh inhale through your nose. “Listen, Powder, I need you to leave. I’ll explain later, but things are complicated and I need some time. Please understand.”
She is silent for a moment before scoffing and quickly leaving, slamming the door behind her. A frustrated groan escapes you and your knuckles kiss the rough wall paneling.
Your gaze lands on Viktor. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You throw the bag of clothes and the cane at his feet. The things you’d spent your hard earned coin on. “She’s not dangerous, she’s a nice fucking girl.”
“That girl is a terrorist in my world, responsible for countless deaths. Jinx—“
“Stop calling her that!” You scream, every muscle within you coiling up with rage. “She is the sweetest person I know. Do you know how much she’s gone through? How many times I’ve had to pick her back up after the guilt of her sister’s death nearly destroyed her?!”
You rant on about that day, about how early on Powder learned the value of life and kindness. When their little group showed up at The Last Drop without Vi, three kids in tears, all covered in soot, you made a promise to yourself and Vi that you would take care of her little sister. Claggor and Mylo were never remotely attentive to her, Vander had his own things going on, and Ekko was just a child himself. It had to be you.
“… Violet. She is dead?”
Another sharp look from you wounds Viktor as you snap, “How do you know Vi?”
Viktor runs a hand over his face, appearing even more exhausted than you know him to look. “Things are so different here,” he whispers to the floorboards beneath his feet.
Heavy breaths turn calm as you watch him, clearly having a hard time adapting to this place. You can acknowledge that this must be like a weird dream to him. Hell, if you were in his place, in a timeline different than yours, you would most likely lose your mind. Two long breaths.
In.
And out.
“Listen. This is a whole lot to take in, for the both of us, but I think laying out a few ground rules and giving each other the benefit of the doubt would be very good for us. If we intend to get along and get you home.”
“Home.” Viktor nods slowly. “I think you are right.”
“Anyway,” you nudge the bag you tossed at him earlier with the toe of your boot. “I got you these.”
He notices the cane and gains the first genuine smile you’ve seen out of him, mumbling something about feeling like himself again. Quietly, you observe as he tests it out, getting used to its assistance after a few steps and then giving the object a little nod of approval.
He looks over to you with an unearned softness that irks you just a bit. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. Just some things to help you blend in and get around,” you brush off, scooping the bag up and handing it to him. “Get changed. We have a lot to do.”
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When Viktor returns from getting freshened up, you find yourself taken aback. Replacing the man with scraggly tresses and a tattered robe, is a completely new person. He has tied up the top half of his shoulder length hair, and you notice the blond underlayer for the first time. The look softens his striking features, and accompanied by the casual style of clothing you picked out—a long sleeved yellow shirt tucked into some straight legged brown slacks—it looks as though he will fit in quite well now.
“Lookin’ good,” you comment offhandedly, looking him over and mentally patting yourself on the back.
You catch a faint redness painting his cheeks before he turns away from you, fiddling with the cane. An oddly nervous innervation wraps around him for a moment, and you choose to ignore whatever is going on with him. There is a mission you must complete. The sooner you finish it, the sooner you will be rid of this man.
“So, how do we get you back?”
What a simple question for something so complicated that it may nearly be impossible.
“We will have to go to Piltover and talk to Jayce. He is a friend, one of the only people who will understand this situation and be able to help us,” Viktor supplies after clearing his throat.
Simple enough. Although you hate going up there, you follow his lead, creating a plan and mapping out where exactly this Jayce guy lives so you can get in without raising too much suspicion. A quick meal, some supplies from a couple trusted merchants, and you’re off.
Viktor and you begin the journey through the undercity, to the elevator that will spit you out on the opposite side of the river from Piltover. It is silent from the moment you exit your place, until Viktor dares to cut the odd atmosphere.
“I may sound crazy, but I missed walking through these streets,” he muses offhandedly, eyes taking in every little detail on your path through Zaun’s city streets. As amusing as this is to watch, it is dangerous nonetheless.
“Don’t act like a tourist, unless you’d enjoy getting your ass kicked. Or worse.”
Almost as if on cue, the two of you round a corner and nearly bump into somebody. You are initially ready to square up, but then you spot a familiar head of choppy, blue hair.
“Powder, what are you doing this far out?” Your tone is scolding, but your hands grasp her forearms protectively, having stopped her from tumbling over.
You feel Viktor’s hand on your bicep, tugging you backward, away from Powder as if on instinct. It pisses you off just a bit, scratching at the just barely scabbed over wound that was the last interaction you all had. You must center yourself, remembering the agreement of peace that came into place right after all the theatrics. He should remember too, though. His hand falls from you when you move out of his grasp to the side, freeing your hands and standing between the two.
“I could ask you guys the same thing.” Powder’s arms cross over her chest, hip cocked out in a defiant, and admittedly petulant, stance.
“Uh, we were just going out,” you explain, half-honest.
“So you are together!” A shit eating grin causes your eyes to roll. “You should’ve just been honest from the start, instead of rudely kicking me out.” She punctuates the statement by sticking her tongue out in the direction of Viktor.
Quick on your feet, you decide to go along with this narrative. It’ll be easier to get out of this quickly without involving her in this mess. “Sorry, Powder. You know I’m not the most… open person, and Viktor here was just confused. He thought you were someone else. Isn’t that right, babe?”
“Mm. Yes, of course. I do apologize, Miss Powder,” Viktor quickly plays along.
Powder hums and accepts the shitty explanation in all her victory. She values being right over being alert.
“Well, where are you going? Somewhere fancy, I bet.”
“I can’t afford fancy, but—“ Viktor cuts you off.
“But, I want to show them some beautiful spots I’ve come across in the uppercuts. The sky is so beautiful there, when I first saw it I was in awe.”
It’s your turn to become struck off guard and Powder giggles excitedly.
“Oh, I see. Treat them well, or I will find you and kill you.” She says it in an overly matter-of-fact manner that is clearly humorous, but the way Viktor’s eyes narrow lets you know that he isn’t trusting of the girl at all.
It is true that the sky is beautiful in Piltover. The way the fluffy clouds dapple the rich blue backdrop is breathtaking. Yet there is no time for sight seeing. Viktor is leading you straight to your destination with the vigor of somebody who is late. You know he’s trying to get back to his timeline and all, but his urgency leaves you a little on edge.
Finally, you reach the outside of an apartment building and he stops dead in his tracks, focusing on a giant hole in the space where you can only assume a very nice penthouse used to lie. Viktor begins mumbling to himself, something about the explosion still happening but a something-core can’t exist here because— he stops and turns to you.
“Something is wrong here. We must make another stop, but first I would like to investigate.”
He suggests that you stay outside, but there’s no way in hell you’re doing that. You stick with him and end up in front of a gate at the base of a staircase within. Locked. Viktor curses in defeat after rattling the barred door. You scoff at his simplicity, grabbing a set of lock picking tools from your pocket and instructing him to keep watch. Upon seeing your rolodex of tools, he is baffled, but then a smile develops on his face. He is impressed.
Upstairs, you come upon a memorial outside the door the two of you seek out. Viktor freezes for a moment, closes his eyes and sighs. He places a hand atop the one already resting on his cane, the weight of this revelation leaving him physically laden. You inspect the display and spot the name Jayce Talis.
Realization instantly hits. The man with the answers is dead. More so, Viktor’s friend doesn’t exist here. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his shoulder and he squeezes his eyes shut harder, lips pressing together. A long silence before he turns to you.
Voice just above a whisper, eyes still cast downward, he says, “I hate to ask for more of you, but would you happen to have anything to add to the memorial? It would mean a great deal to me.”
You slowly nod, shucking off your bag and finding a pretty rock you collected on the way over here. You place it near an unlit candle on the polished floor, gentle and with care. The heaviness somehow extends to you and wraps around the both of you for the time that you spend in that hallway.
“We must continue,” Viktor finally says, gesturing to the door. You try the handle and find the wooden slab barely attached to its hinges. It swings open and then adjusts to its weight, hinges squeaking before it settles on the floor permanently.
Viktor waits outside for a moment, eyes cast downward, and you wait to go further until he joins you at the threshold. Fragments of a blue gem embedded in the wall are collected and placed in a stray vile you find on the floor. It is difficult to maneuver the place. It looks as though there was an explosion that blasted the hole through the outside wall.
Some effort to clean up afterward was made, but you notice some blood spatter on the floor and wall. Your skin crawls, and you wonder if this incident could be connected with Vi’s death. From the little Powder has filled you in about that day, you are able to spot connections within the little details here and there. Your heart sinks and you halt your imagination from going any further. As soon as you get what is needed, you rush to get out of there, Viktor in tow with the same sentiment.
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That secondary destination Viktor spoke of is Piltover Academy. You ask many questions about why you’re here exactly, and Viktor feeds you continuously bland answers. All you can glean is that you seek a person that will be in the courtyard shortly. Viktor has memorized their schedule, so they must’ve been close in his world. You hope, for his sake, that they actually appear.
And they do. The person in question is a professor: Cecil Heimerdinger. You’ve heard of the Yordle inventor in passing, word of his contributions to Piltover reaching even the far sides of Zaun. Enough to know that he is a highly respected scientist, and you deduce that this is why Viktor was so insistent on finding him.
Viktor gets straight to the point, spilling his guts about traveling to another dimension and wanting to get back to his original timeline. He speaks of the crystal fragments you gathered, how they have the potential to create a machine capable of taking him back.
“This is very much feasible with the correct mechanics, I am quite impressed,” the professor remarks, a hand on his chin as he mentally scrutinizes the possibilities. His eyes then land on you. “And who is this friend?”
A pregnant pause. Viktor stares at you for an uncomfortably long time before speaking. “This is my only ally here, a co-creator of the technology I speak of… They were also my significant other in my original world.”
This is news to you, and the way Viktor tears his gaze away from you tells you that he didn’t want to divulge this information. But why? What difference would it have made in this whole affair? The unearned affectionate glances and his shyness around your compliments all make sense now.
“Oh, I see. How poetic that they should lend a kind hand to you here as well,” Heimerdinger muses.
Viktor hums, looking lost in thought. You remain silent, ruminative for the rest of this interaction. The Yordle agrees to lend one of the university’s labs to the two of you, with the condition that he oversees your work. He connects the explosion at the apartment with the gem fragments and notes the dangers of the operation. While he is wary of such a conquest, he seems almost tickled by the prospect.
An appointment is made for Viktor and you to return tomorrow. At that time, you’ll receive the keys to a lab and the consent to invent… A magical machine, you suppose. You just hope this endeavor doesn’t take too long. You have already grown tired of the friction Viktor is causing in your personal life.
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On the long journey home, a thought you’ve had since you heard Viktor’s confession spills from your mouth before you can hold it back any longer. “If we were together in your world, why did you tell me you hadn’t seen me in a while when you—appeared here?”
“I don’t wish to discuss that at the moment. It has been a long day,” Viktor responds, voice rough with his exhaustion.
You let it lie, for now at least. He promised to tell you all that you ask, and you intend to hold him to it. A quiet meal and a few more words are exchanged before bed. Tomorrow, more answers await the two of you. You can’t help how heavy you feel after today, or what to think of Viktor’s unwillingness to divulge the truth about your other self. It must be more than a simple falling out, or a breakup.
What could have happened to the other you? Could he have hurt you? You don’t think so, but the guilt behind his eyes makes you uneasy. Once again, the night is restless with too many unanswered questions. You will get to the bottom of this, but will you regret it when you do?
Viktor’s haunting anecdote rings in your mind all night.
Some things are better left unknown.
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Viktor nation! It is done!!! Please leave me your thoughts, I would really appreciate it :) The huge, positive response to the preview post motivated me to get this done quicker than I thought I could. Anyway, thanks for reading, I appreciate every single one of you 💕
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thehypnone · 1 day ago
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How about Swissalps the first time Mountain barges into Swiss's dressing room on tour unannounced?
“Five to showtime!” somebody yells on the other side of the corridor, making Mountain swear under his breath. He’s a ghoul who likes order, which is an unfortunate quality considering the default chaos of his pack.
He’s got nearly everyone lined up and waiting for their que to go on stage—nearly, because the new multi ghoul is nowhere to be seen. Mountain could’ve known, but that does not alleviate his uneasiness in the slightest.
He rolls his eyes and storms down towards the dressing rooms, intending to quite literally drag Swiss out of his, no matter the state he’s in.
Mountain does make sure twice that he’s standing in front of the correct door before barging in unannounced. He lets out a sigh of disappointment at what he encounters inside.
“What on earth are you doing?” he asks. “We need to be on stage in less than five minutes.”
“I’m–uh,” Swiss grunts from his spot against the vanity, his hand flying up and down his cock at a pace that doesn’t look comfortable in the slightest, “stress jerking.”
“What?” Mountain scoffs.
“You know like–people obsessively bake when they’re stressed? Stress baking?”
“Yes, but–”
“Yeah and I am stress–fuck–jerking,” the multi ghoul explains, chuckling nervously. A quiet moan breaks its way out through his teeth before frustration creases his brows, “but I can’t get there.”
Mountain hums in acknowledgement, considering. He understands—he’s been where Swiss is. He looks properly distressed and he’s at a point where he can’t just tuck himself back into his pants and go on stage like nothing happened, so… “Do you need a hand?”
The multi ghoul freezes and the jaw that he’s been clenching drops.
“Yes, I want to help,” Mountain confirms casually, as if it’s nothing unusual. That’s because it is—not among a pack of ghouls—but Swiss is new and it shows. “We don’t have much time. Do you want me to help?”
“Y–you want…like, uhm–hand…huh?” he sputters, squeezing the base of his cock. He could not lie and say he doesn’t find Mountain painfully attractive and that the earth ghoul hasn’t been a character frequently appearing in his fantasies.
The multi ghoul nods; somewhat embarrassed, but desperate. Mountain crosses the room in two strides and wraps his hand around Swiss’ cock with not much preamble.
“Shit, that’s good,” he groans, gripping the edge of the counter he’s leaning against.
“Hm,” Mountain hums and gets to work; there really is no time to be wasted. He notes Swiss isn’t even fully hard, but he thinks he knows exactly what’s gonna do it. The earth ghoul rumbles low in his chest and rests his free hand on the wall, leaning in to crowd Swiss in.
And indeed, his cock kicks and fills out some more in Mountain’s grip.
He keeps staring down at him through the eye holes of his chrome mask, forcing the flustered multi ghoul to keep eye contact. Swiss does not want to admit how fast it gets him close.
“Oh, oh, FUUUCK,” the multi ghoul moans wantonly when Mountain pushes him over the edge. He throws his head back against the mirror of the vanity and spills all over the other’s hand, panting. “Lord have mercy…”
Mountain can’t help but smirk as he pulls away and heads towards the dressing room’s sink. “Now get dressed and let’s go do our jobs.”
“Thanks…” Swiss mumbles, shame washing over him again.
“Don’t mention it,” the earth ghoul shrugs, “but next time do tell me earlier if you’re stressed. I can do way better with more time.”
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ramshacklefey · 2 days ago
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One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and The Things They Carried rewired parts of my brain. The Odyssey was a real treat. (Especially when some of my classmates who found the language rather opaque started gathering around me at morning homeroom to hear my retellings of last night's reading assignment.)
But I know some of you probably have or had a miserable time in English class, and that may have been partly because your school didn't properly prepare you for reading the books ahead of time, so you were just totally at sea all the way through.
If that's the case, here are some tips for getting more enjoyment out of a book you're struggling with!
Look up summaries of individual chapters (CliffsNotes usually has these). Then go back and read them. Having an idea of what's happening might help you follow along with language or writing styles that you're struggling with.
Let yourself skim over particular passages you're baffled by and latch onto the ones that make sense. Finding points that you can follow might help you make sense of the trickier ones by providing context.
If you don't understand a character's motivations, especially in older books and books that take place in a foreign country, it might be because you're missing context. That's okay, and your teacher isn't expecting you to have encyclopedic knowledge of the historical and cultural context for a book.
But also, even in the most unfamiliar circumstances, you can look for things that make sense to you. The characters are still people, and regardless of context, people are still people.
But also, sometimes you just can't relate to the character. That's ok. "Well I would never ____" Yes, but this person did. And here's why. In the world they live in, it made sense or it was the only thing they could do. And there are people in real life who do that. Now you've seen a little bit of why.
You don't have to like all the characters. Some characters (even the protagonists) you're supposed to hate. Sometimes that's because the author is saying, "This bastard is fucked up, but do you see how he got that way?" Sometimes it's, "This bitch made every wrong choice possible, but damn if it didn't make some wild drama."
Remember that sometimes the author may not explain exactly why something happens because it's supposed to be a bit of a mystery at first! Keep reading and see if it gets explained later!
Look up words in the dictionary!!
If you're having trouble keeping a lot of characters in your head, make a cast list. "John is Mary's brother and he's a bit of a dick."
It's okay if there are books you simply do not vibe with. Give them a fair shake, but really, even the kids who love English class are gonna have books they hate. I despised a few of the books I read for school. But remember that struggling with a book and not liking it aren't the same thing!
And for the love of everything holy. Ask. Your. Teacher. Questions. Write them down while you're reading and ask! If you're scared to ask in class, talk to them at another time! But I can guarantee that if you didn't understand something, some of your classmates didn't either. If your teacher is remotely competent, they'll be delighted to answer your questions.
And there are no questions too simple to ask in class!! "Why did this character do this thing?" "What's up with this sentence?" "I tried reading this, and here's what I think the events of this chapter were. Is that really what happened?" "What the heck is a ____?" "Why was this bit in here? It doesn't seem like it's important to the plot." "How do we know that ____ theme is in here?"
Yes, there are themes and symbols and motifs and whatever else in books. Your teacher isn't just making it up. People tell stories for a reason. The author is trying to communicate something to you. "Well why didn't they just say that?" Because saying it in a story shows you something about it. I can tell you, "Love isn't always enough to save you." or I can show you that by telling you a story about two people who fall in love and then get their shit wrecked. I can tell you, "This war happened and it was awful," or I can show you the people who were in it and what it did to them. I can tell you, "The government is a corrupt pile of festering feces," or I can show you what might happen if we keep going on the path we're on.
And you might not agree! You can say, "No, it wouldn't happen like that." You can say, "But this war was worth it because it resulted in this." You can say, "Actually, this particular social outcome seems pretty rad to me." That's okay because stories are a conversation, not the word of God from on high. But again, give the author a fair shake.
The most important thing is that you don't just give up if you're struggling. You're in school to learn! So accept that there are things you don't already know.
I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.
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