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wonpoem · 8 months ago

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TEWWWW GOOD. TEWWW CUTE

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thirty. awesome-sauce word count: 5k words

ANTON NEEDED TO STOP LISTENING TO LOVE SONGS.

But unfortunately, he has had Laufey put on blast in his speakers for the past few hours while getting ready for his ‘friendly date’ with you later, the jazz notes of her discography continuously reverberating along the walls of his flat, so much so that even Stonerland has probably had enough of listening to the same five songs—From the Start, Falling Behind, Let You Break My Heart Again, Valentine, and Promise, just the most popular ones really—in rotation by the time lunch came around because Anton unfortunately used Spotify, which was infamous for its shitty shuffle algorithm. (It was like he was stuck in a toxic relationship with the app itself, since he still refused to use Apple Music because he was too attached to the former. But that was an issue for another day.)

In hindsight, there was nothing wrong about jamming out to sappy love songs about being a hopeless romantic or plain old heartbreak while getting ready to hang out with the person he liked—the problem lied in the fact that Anton was turning into said hopeless romantic. Or, depending on the state of his relationship with you by the end of this story, he’d be heartbroken. And then he’d finally understand what Laufey was singing about in Let You Break My Heart Again, if he lacked enough self-preservation when it came to his crush on you.

“Stonerland,” Anton called, slowly turning towards his fish’s tank. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”

Stonerland merely twirled, before disappearing amidst the greenery of his home. That was fish code for: You’re a fucking dumbass.

Anton sighed, even his own fish didn’t want to hear him talk about his love life. Now he felt incredibly stupid for asking a fish for advice; that’s what his friends were supposed to be for, but after practically spilling his heart out to them a few days ago, he wasn’t up to their teasing anymore. Not for a while at least.

Left without an answer to his question, Anton slowly let the dread consume his chest. He knew that there was no point in entertaining the anxieties that came with liking someone, but he just honest to God couldn’t help it—Anton hasn’t been this nervous over a crush since high school when Wonbin told him to man up and go ask out Grace Wong to prom, and then they actually went out together for a couple months until he found out she was talking to Noah Kim from orchestra behind his back all along. Freakin’ Noah Kim who didn’t even play the cello that well.

But that was all water under the bridge, and Anton has matured a lot since then. His feelings for you were, at the very least, real, even if he never really expected such a development in the first place. He didn’t have to meet you the way the couples in movies do with their adorable meet-cute scenes and coincidental bumping-into-each-other threaded meticulously by the hands of the scriptwriter, because he was well-past the idea of knowing he had met you online—he’s already used to getting a lot of shit for that anyway. He’s practically immune to everyone’s subtweets about him finding the love of his life on Roblox.

And, hey, you actually ended up being local, and you had mutual friends this whole time, so it was as if the universe was practically begging for the two of you to meet!

…Anton could feel Stonerland looking at him like he was crazy, and he understood that, sort of, because he was aware that he was going down a very dark and scary path—the path to becoming a delusional freak, that is. No more love songs until he was cuffed, he decided.

Since traffic was lighter during this hour, it only took Anton around fifteen minutes to arrive at your place. It would’ve been less than that had he not gone on a detour, but he was determined to make this the best ‘friendly date’ you’ve ever had. Anton wanted to engrave this date into your memory so well that any other date in the future would pale in comparison to him—but that was only if you two end up not working out. Big if, because Anton wasn’t even dating you yet. He was getting there��he just needed more EXP, probably.

Once he arrived at your house, Anton parked his car on the street outside and tentatively grabbed the decent-sized bouquet of flowers sitting on his passenger seat. As he walked up to your front porch after texting you of his arrival, Anton couldn’t help the inexplicable urge to fix his hair before seeing you, only forced to stop it when he had to ring the doorbell.

“Please don’t let it be your dad, please don’t let it be your dad…” he murmured under his breath.

Anton immediately flinched when the door swung open without a warning, and suddenly you were standing in front of him. “Oh, hey,” you exclaimed, before your gaze flickered down to the bouquet in his hands. “This is…?”

Anton’s breath hitches at the sight of you, and he woefully wonders if he will ever get used to seeing you in real life when you’re this beautiful in front of him—so much so that it was hard to imagine that you were the same girl who sucked so bad at video games. But he supposed that you can’t always have everything in life.

“For you,” Anton quickly said, pushing the assortment of flowers towards your direction. “Sohee and Sungchan told me these were your favorites, so…”

He trailed off expectantly, unable to fight off the flush affecting the tips of his ears.

You gingerly took the bouquet from him, wordlessly staring at his gift. Anton could practically hear his heart beat wildly inside his chest while waiting for your answer, and he had to refrain himself from wincing when you finally spoke up, afraid that you didn’t like them.

“You didn’t have to, but… thanks,” you said, your lips slightly trembling in an attempt to stop yourself from smiling too widely. Anton was acting too nonchalant for your liking, so you figured you had to do the same as well. “These are really pretty, Anton.”

Anton promised himself that he was not slipping up today.

Not now, and definitely not ever.

“You’re pretty.” Nevermind! Clearly he didn’t know what it meant to shut up. God.

Your eyebrows furrowed ever-so slightly, and Anton resorted to staring at the plant-less pot of soil in your yard to avoid your imposing stare, heat rising to his cheeks from embarrassment.

“Okaaaay, this is giving me déjà vu,” was all you said, before stepping back into your house. “I’m gonna put these away, and then we can go, yeah?”

Anton nodded, putting his hands behind his back when you left. He tried clearing his mind by observing the layout of your home’s entrance corridor, from the coat-rack that hosted more hats and ties to the little picture frames and decorative plates hanging on the wall. From where he stood, he could see the outline of a flatscreen TV and a coffee table littered with miscellaneous things, but the mostly house was quiet except for the sound of you opening drawers in the kitchen. Anton briefly wondered what it would be like to enter your home and someday meet your family.

You eventually came back, dusting off your hands against the fabric of your skirt before beaming up at him.

“What’s the plan?” you asked excitedly.

Anton merely smiled at you. “You’ll see.”

A couple minutes later, however, Anton realized that giving you the aux was the worst mistake of his life. Your music taste wasn’t trash, per se, but when your playlist stumbled upon Jujutsu Kaisen’s season two opening song (because of course you’d have it on your playlist) halfway during the car ride, Anton should have known that you were going to put it on repeat. So much so that by the time you two arrived at your destination, Anton was pretty sure he was fluent in Japanese—something Shotaro would probably appreciate.

But all was good, because you’ve now lost aux privileges. (You also claimed the song made you emotional, but it didn’t even have a sad progression! It was perfectly upbeat the whole time!)

“Where are we?” you asked.

“The aquarium,” Anton simply responded, removing his seatbelt and looking towards you with an easy grin. “Fishes, right?”

You turned to him, smiling back. “Fishes, yeah,” you agreed, before the two of you exited the car.

Since Anton had already paid for reservations online, your entry went off without a hitch and you immediately started dragging him around the area without even giving him a chance to gather his bearings, or better yet, consult each other on where to even start. Which was fine, because it seemed like you had an idea of your own, what with the way you beckoned him to follow you around.

“Oh, look,” Anton said, staring at familiar wide blue fish. “It’s Dory.”

You were about to say something, until a little kid beat you to it.

“Actually, it’s a Hippo Blue Tang,” the kid, probably around nine to ten years old, said in a matter-of-fact tone, pushing his thick-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose while he looked up at the significantly taller man in front of him. “It’s a species of surgeonfish. It’s not just ‘Dory,’ and clown fishes aren’t just ‘Nemo,’ too.”

Anton blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he immediately apologized, bending down to seem more approachable. “I didn’t know. You’re very knowledgeable, thanks for telling me.”

“It’s okay, now you know,” the little kid replied, before turning around and leaving with his mother.

Anton straightened up, and a small smile appeared on his face when he looked back at you. “Cute kid.”

You stared at him silently, before you let out a thoughtful hum.

He tilted his head to the side. “What?”

You smiled. “Nothing, I just… that was kinda unexpected.”

“In what way?”

“I thought you’d say something, like, ‘erm, akshually…’ but you were surprisingly pretty nice to him.”

Anton briefly rolled his eyes, but a smile remained on his face. “That sounds like something you’d say instead, though,” he teased.

With a huff, you bumped his shoulder with yours. “Well, yeah, because he was being such a smartass about it, but I know you’re not above saying that, too…”

“Nah,” Anton replied softly. “Not to little kids. I’m not that mean to them.”

You looked at him, unimpressed, but his gaze remained unwavering. You turned towards the flock of fishes swimming inside the tank.

“Hm,” was all you said, watching as the same surgeonfish passed by, “and yet, you’re so mean to me.”

This time, instead of white and green reflecting on your eyes, the blue of the aquarium was all Anton could see. Your eyes peacefully followed the fish swimming along the huge tank, occasionally following a certain one before losing your attention and moving on to the other. There were so many things to look at inside the aquarium’s tank, so much it had to offer in comparison to a lone betta fish inside a small one, but Anton continued staring at you like you were the only attraction in the place.

You caught his gaze, blinking up at him confusedly. Anton promptly looked away.

“Because you’re not a kid, duh,” he eventually said, shaking his head. “You don’t get special treatment.”

You looked at him silently, and he returned the stare. Then, you turned on your heel and left, but not before saying, “You like me, though. That sounds special enough to me.”

Anton immediately flushed, fumbling his next words as he tried chasing after you towards the Shark Tunnel.

The two of you continued walking around the aquarium for some time more, occasionally taking individual pictures of yourselves by the huge tanks as well as having surprisingly in-depth commentary about the many sea-life creatures the aquarium had to offer. When you asked him to take photos of you with the sharks, he made sure to get all your best angles just in the slightest case you’d want to post them on social media, but when it came for his turn, he had to refrain himself from laughing at the way you went above and beyond to get his best angles. The pictures looked good in the end, however, so he surmised your flamboyant picture-taking efforts amounted to something, at least.

Afterwards, he took you to see the starfishes, in which you then spent around ten minutes explaining how you’ve always wanted to try eating one, and how there’s a place in Japan that practiced such an idea. Anton, however, didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm.

“But it’s okay,” he assured, “because then you’d have more starfishes to eat, right?”

You laughed, then, and Anton could only focus on the way your eyes twinkled and the way everyone else within your vicinity ceased to exist until all he could see was you, laughing at his dumb comment. But, really, he’d let you have all the starfish you wanted just so he could continue watching you laugh and smile and lean against him until your shoulders were touching and your pinkies occasionally bumped against each other, the fish and sharks and whatever else forced to witness the two of you tiptoe along your so-called ‘friendly date’ until Anton was able to find the courage to fully take your hand in his and drag you away from the aquarium and everyone else’s curious gazes.

But he didn’t do that, because there was that same dread occupying his chest once again—the kind that brought him back inside his room listening to Laufey and believing that his fish called him stupid for hopelessly pining after you. The kind that was just like when he stared dumbly at his phone every time he somehow messed up again by revealing bits and pieces of his thoughts to you and his friends and fans, each text he sent an evidence of how far you’ve got him dancing on the palm of your hand even if it wasn’t exactly on purpose.

But it was Anton who set up the bait and it was him who fell for it, and now he’s here, and you’re here—and he realized that he wants so much more than what he has now.

“You good?” you asked quietly, so only he could hear.

“Hm? Of course,” Anton mindlessly replied, already looking at you.

“You wanna go?” you suggested, and you were so close that Anton could see the individual strands of your eyelashes and the pores on your nose, and his eyes were about to go lower until he stopped himself from going down that scary territory.

Friendly date. Right.

“There's nothing else to do here anymore. And I have, like, a hundred photos of just the stingray alone,” you added, not noticing his inner turmoil. “How many pictures of the stingray do you have?”

“Like, five, I think,” Anton breathed out, an amused smile overtaking his lips. “Where do you wanna go next?”

He really only had two, and it was just of you waving at it. Who gives a shit about the stingray anyway? Definitely not Anton.

You smiled back at him. “I know a place,” you said, before taking his hand in yours and dragging him out of the aquarium.

The dread washes away before he even realized it, and suddenly the sun was a little bit brighter and the birds were singing better and the fishes were swimming faster and Anton was intertwining your fingers together like his life depended on it.

He’s fine with this.

“I should have known…” Anton dryly announced. He looked down at his drink, but specifically at the image of Gojo Satoru on the drink’s cupholder staring back at him. Anton probably would have thrown the cup straight into the trash had he not already tasted it, but he didn’t, because it unfortunately tasted good. Dammit.

You laughed, taking a sip from your own cup. “It’s good, though, right?”

“Yeah, and that’s what I hate about it. But the coconut flavor’s good.”

“I’ve been waiting for an excuse to come here,” you said as the two of you exited the boba shop you brought him to, before crossing the street to head towards the nearby park. “So thanks for taking me out, really.”

“Really? I would've thought you’d be the first person at the door when they announced a collab with Jujutsu Kaisen,” Anton mused, noticing the distance between your shoulders again. “Since, you know, you’re a pretty huge fan yourself.”

It was a little after five in the afternoon when the two of you arrived at the park, and the sun was starting to set, painting the trees with its orange hues.

“Well, yeah, but it’s way more fun to go with someone,” you reasoned.

“Why didn’t you go with Sohee instead?”

“He’s busy with classes.”

“Giselle?”

“Hates anime.”

“Wow. Okay, then, Ricky? Soul? Heck—Sungchan?”

You suddenly stopped walking, and Anton was also forced to stop. He looked at you curiously, but you only looked at him with that same thoughtful expression of yours as the two of you loitered next to an empty bench and a trash can. At times like these he wished he could read your mind.

“...But I wanted to go with you,” you said, quietly, “you dummy.”

Anton raised an eyebrow in response, and you promptly looked away, taking another sip of your drink.

But a stray lock of your hair somehow ended up getting caught around your straw, and Anton moved before he could even think, untangling it for you and wordlessly tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You’re the dummy,” he said softly. “You could have just said so; I would have gone with you anyway.”

Actually, Anton wished for a lot of things. He wished you held his hand longer earlier—no, he wished he had the courage to hold your hand earlier when you were still walking around the aquarium. He wished that he held it when he drove you around the city and that he was able to run his thumb over your knuckles at a stop light and, if you allowed it, he’d raise it to his lips and plant a soft kiss, fleeting but real. He wished that when you two would bicker he’d be able to shut you up with merely a kiss, but Anton knew that those were only wishes in the end. And he wished he could blame Laufey and her stupid love songs stuck on repeat for such thoughts, but at the end of the day he was the one who came up with them, and he would be the one to suffer through them.

Your breath stuttered just a little bit when you looked up at Anton, and you blinked confusedly when he hesitantly stepped back.

“Sorry,” Anton stammered, quickly avoiding your gaze. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, saying, “Your hair—it, uh—it got caught up in the straw, so I just—yeah. Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Anton,” you cut him off.

“Yes?” he replied a little too quickly.

“...You like me, right?” you asked.

Anton’s heart almost leapt out of his throat, and he thought he must have heard you wrong from how often he wore headphones for hours on end, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Um,” Anton eventually said, gulping comically. “Yeah. I do. I do like you.”

“Okay,” you simply said, chucking your now finished Gojo-themed drink into the trash can. “I like you, too.”

A beat passed.

Anton blinked. “What.”

“What?” you echoed.

He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “You just—” he began, before shaking his head once again to gather his thoughts. “You do know that I like you, right?”

“Yeah…? You just said that.”

“No, like, I like-like you. Like, I like you as more than just a friend. I like you like—like in a SatoSugu way,” Anton shook his drink in front of you, making sure that the image of Gojo Satoru on the cupholder was facing your direction, as if it would get his point across. When you merely blinked back at him, he had to bite back a frustrated sigh.

“Nevermind, that just sounds stupid; they’re not even canon,” he said, pursing his lips. He threw his empty cup into the trash can as well, before turning back towards you.

“I like you, too,” you repeated. “I told you that already.”

“Yeah, but the way I like you is different from the way you like me,” Anton argued, and you only looked at him in confusion. “The way I like you is because I have romantic feelings for you. Like, I want to kiss you and hold your hand all the time and stuff. I want to go on not-friendly dates with you.”

“Okay,” you said, slowly, “so why don’t you hold my hand, then? Why don’t you kiss me now?”

He sighed. “But you don’t—”

Now wait a damn minute, Anton paused.

“Why not?” you impatiently asked, boldly stepping closer to him. “What’s stopping you from holding my hand and kissing me? I like you, Anton. I even held your hand earlier because you weren’t making a move on me. You just intertwined our fingers together, so I thought we were finally making some progress or something, but you never did it again. You even gave me flowers earlier; was that all just for show?”

Anton’s breath hitched at your close proximity, stammering out, “Well, that… that’s because—”

“Because this is just a friendly-date? It doesn’t have to be. Who cares about that anyway? It’s only words,” you continued, stepping even closer and poking through his personal bubble. But even if Anton gradually became more and more flustered, he never wavered or stepped back. “... just want to be with you.”

You took his hand in yours, slowly lacing your fingers together as you continued staring up at him with this inexplicable expression on your face. Anton couldn’t read it at all, but maybe that was because he was too busy trying to calm down his beating heart from bursting within his ribcage.

Anton proceeded to bring his free hand to cover up his reddening face, refusing to make eye contact with you.

“...What the hell?” he whined, “where the hell did you get all this rizz from?”

You were so, so close to him. Closer than when you were at the aquarium or when you were inside his car and it was driving Anton crazy. You were driving him crazy. This wasn’t how he panned it out at all—it wasn’t supposed to go this way. He wanted to drag it out for a couple more chapters, but no, you just had to ruin it.

You pushed his hand away. “YouTube,” you merely said, forcing him to face you properly. “A couple days ago this video popped up on my feed; it talked about how to ‘rizz’ someone up, but not, like, in a sigma-alpha kind of rizzing, you know? It sounds stupid, but it was actually pretty usefu—”

Anton deadpanned.

What the actual hell were you even talking about.

You continued your explanation, however, ignorant of the fact that he was practically staring daggers straight into your skull.

“..So, yeah, the guy basically said that you gotta establish your dominance to the other person if you want them to fall for—”

“Can I kiss you?” Anton blurted out without even thinking it through; he just really wanted you to shut up about your YouTube video.

It worked, surprisingly enough.

Your face flushed. “Oh—um, uh, sure, okay.”

Anton blanched afterwards, not knowing what to do after that, but he eventually brought a hand up to your face, gulping down his nerves as he found eye contact with you. Your skin was soft under his touch, and Anton started to slowly map out your features—from the color of your eyes, to the curve of your nose, before focusing in on the shape of your lips, desperately waiting to be kissed.

Anton felt his heart skip a beat.

He untangled his other arm from yours and placed it against your other cheek, and then you were closing your eyes as soon as he started leaning in.

It probably lasted for less than five seconds, but it felt like hours when Anton held your face to kiss you. Somehow your hands had found purchase on his shoulders to stabilize yourself with, before you’re opening your eyes again and he’s slowly backing away, the distinct taste of coconut from your previous drinks lingering on your lips.

A wide grin broke out on your face.

“Awesome-sauce,” you whispered. “Epic first date, right?”

Anton groaned, and you only laughed at him.

“Ugh, you weirdo,” he said, scrunching up his nose in distaste, but started smiling at seeing you enjoy yourself. “Why would you even say that in this situation…”

You laughed again when he stole another kiss from you, pushing his face away from yours but clearly you didn’t care all that much when he was still able to land a few kisses on your cheek and at the corner of your mouth.

“Stop it,” you giggled, your smile so wide as Anton’s arms traveled down to wrap around your waist. “We’re in public, weirdo. PDA is gross, don’t be cringe.”

“You were the one who started it,” he hummed. You rolled your eyes when he started mimicking your voice, “You were all, like, ’Anton, why aren’t you kissing me? Anton, I like you. Anton, you’re my sigma—’”

You gently pinched his bicep, and Anton yelped.

“Stop it already,” you grumbled. “And you’re not my sigma.”

Anton smiled like an idiot. “But I’m your boyfriend now, right?”

When you stayed silent, his smile gradually dropped, his hold on your waist loosening.

“Or, I mean, we don’t have to date if you don’t want to,” he stammered, voice shaking a little. “Labels are so lame anyway. I’m down if you’re down, you know? We can be, like, totally casual, if you want that instead. Totally fine with it. I’d do anything for you, actually. But I cross the line on being a sidechick, though—I gotta have some self-respect, you know?”

Fuuuuuck. He got way too ahead of himself.

“...I don’t mind if you’re my boyfriend,” you quietly said, smiling shyly at him. You picked at one of the buttons of his shirt, and Anton had to physically restrain himself from drowning you in more kisses right then and there.

He wouldn’t say he loved you just yet. Actually, Anton didn’t exactly know what he was feeling anymore, and that scared him just a little bit, but what he did know was that Anton really, really liked you. Sure, kissing on the first date was a little crazy, but at this point, nothing mattered anymore. It was easy to predict where he’d end up by the end of this all, and he really wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because now he can finally listen to Laufey and smile in assurance that his love life didn’t reflect her songs; he can flip Stonerland off for fueling the doubts of his mind; and he can announce to the world that he finally has a girlfriend after years of wasting away his youth live streaming himself playing games. (Actually, the haters would probably come for your ass if he ever revealed your relationship, so he probably should think that through for some time more.) But most importantly, Anton can finally stop wishing for things that are now available to him—he can hold your hand whenever he wanted, he can kiss your knuckles whenever he felt like it, and he can lean over the armrest to steal a kiss from you at a stop light (and also risk getting honked by the car behind him when it quickly turns green, but that’s okay).

“You wanna call it a day?” Anton suggested, bringing your hand up to finally do what he’s been waiting all this time. He softly landed a kiss on your knuckles, fighting the urge to squeal like a little girl over his own actions. “And then we plan a not-friendly date this time?”

“Okay,” you responded, smiling brightly.

Life was good. Anton felt good.

“Get a fucking room!”

The two of you quickly turned your heads around, your hearts practically dropping to your stomachs after finding an old man who sat at a different bench glaring at you. He held a half-eaten sandwich in his grasp, and he glowered at you like you’ve personally wronged him. Which, based on his reaction to you simply existing, you probably did.

“Teenagers these days…” he muttered, shaking his head before turning away.

“We’re adults, but, okay,” Anton meekly replied. You snorted, and the two of you started walking towards his car.

“Not like it makes a difference for him, he’s too old to know,” you said as Anton held the door open for you.

“Oh, so you’re ageist now,” Anton commented dryly, before shutting the door and entering on the driver’s side.

You shrugged as you buckled in, saying, “Well, you’re dating an ageist,” was your lame defense. “So—guilty by association.”

Anton rolled his eyes and started the car, before driving out of the street. “I guess they’re my type.”

“You’re cringe.”

“You’re dating someone cringe.”

“I hate you,” you deadpanned, but didn’t resist when Anton laced your hands together above the arm rest. “Can I be on aux?”

“Hell, no. I’m putting on Laufey.”

“Fine,” you grumbled as Anton connected his phone to the car. After a couple seconds of letting Laufey’s song play out, you turned to him again, asking, “You wanna play a game later?”

“What game?”

“Roblox Altitorture, duh.”

“I’m gonna crash this car.”

(Friendly-but-not-really-friendly date: success.)

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SYNOPSIS. not everyone is good at playing obby’s on roblox, and you’re no exception to this rule: after a particularly nasty encounter with another player on roblox’s altitorture, you log into twitter only to find out that the very same player who publicly dunked on your gaming skills turns out to be anton lee, a well-known streamer who also happens to be a friend of a friend. fed up with his fans bombarding your dms with teasing remarks or jealous musings, you decide to end it once and for all by appearing on his next stream with a promise to get through an obby successfully. however, you realize that the only thing you’ll be successful at is falling for anton lee instead.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. sorry for the long wait orz!!! but it's finally here 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 ngl u guys i cringe really badly when i have to write kiss scenes n all that sappy stuff so this was kinda hard on me lawl... ALSO WE ARE SO CLOSE TO THE END!!!! #y/nton_canon_finally (ALSO I DONT PLAY ABOUT THE ALLEY’S JJK COLLAB THAT SHI WAS GOOD ASL) lordddd

TAGLIST. (closed) @shoberi @gisellessgf @serafilms @palchokitty @seunghancore @nujeskz @hisrkive @alwayswook @emohoon @milktea-academia @kyusqult @dolloie @slutforjeno @meowbini @yizhuobberi @fae-renjun @kcharlyy @whoisgwyn @saranghoeforanton @au-ghosttype @gyehyeonist @dodot04lover @outrologist @papichulomacy @odxrilove @maleegayuh @ilovejungwonandhaechan @dalsosapple @starwonb1n @tojis-luver @slayhaechan @lakoya @he6rtshaker @rikianton @brachioswrld @injunnie-lemon @ffixtionista @endtostartbreathin @ki3ntot @bidibaabidiboo @totheseok @astrae4 @hanbinniesmango @daegale @regrool @sunflowerbebe07 @taroddori @miyawwn @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy

#omg #so cute #riize #aughhh

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wonpoem · 1 year ago

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THROUGH A RAPIST’S EYES” (PLS TAKE TIME TO READ THIS. It may save a life, It may save your life.)

An Article from Neena Susan Thomas

“Through a rapist’s eyes. A group of rapists and date rapists in prison were interview…ed on what they look for in a potential victim and here are some interesting facts:

1] The first thing men look for in a potential victim is hairstyle. They are most likely to go after a woman with a ponytail, bun! , braid, or other hairstyle that can easily be grabbed. They are also likely to go after a woman with long hair. Women with short hair are not common targets.

2] The second thing men look for is clothing. They will look for women who’s clothing is easy to remove quickly. Many of them carry scissors around to cut clothing.

3] They also look for women using their cell phone, searching through their purse or doing other activities while walking because they are off guard and can be easily overpowered.

4] The number one place women are abducted from / attacked at is grocery store parking lots.

5] Number two is office parking lots/garages.

6] Number three is public restrooms.

7] The thing about these men is that they are looking to grab a woman and quickly move her to a second location where they don’t have to worry about getting caught.

8] If you put up any kind of a fight at all, they get discouraged because it only takes a minute or two for them to realize that going after you isn’t worth it because it will be time-consuming.

9] These men said they would not pick on women who have umbrellas,or other similar objects that can be used from a distance, in their hands.

10] Keys are not a deterrent because you have to get really close to the attacker to use them as a weapon. So, the idea is to convince these guys you’re not worth it.

POINTS THAT WE SHOULD REMEMBER:

1] If someone is following behind you on a street or in a garage or with you in an elevator or stairwell, look them in the face and ask them a question, like what time is it, or make general small talk: can’t believe it is so cold out here, we’re in for a bad winter. Now that you’ve seen their faces and could identify them in a line- up, you lose appeal as a target.

2] If someone is coming toward you, hold out your hands in front of you and yell Stop or Stay back! Most of the rapists this man talked to said they’d leave a woman alone if she yelled or showed that she would not be afraid to fight back. Again, they are looking for an EASY target.

3] If you carry pepper spray (this instructor was a huge advocate of it and carries it with him wherever he goes,) yelling I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY and holding it out will be a deterrent.

4] If someone grabs you, you can’t beat them with strength but you can do it by outsmarting them. If you are grabbed around the waist from behind, pinch the attacker either under the arm between the elbow and armpit or in the upper inner thigh – HARD. One woman in a class this guy taught told him she used the underarm pinch on a guy who was trying to date rape her and was so upset she broke through the skin and tore out muscle strands the guy needed stitches. Try pinching yourself in those places as hard as you can stand it; it really hurts.

5] After the initial hit, always go for the groin. I know from a particularly unfortunate experience that if you slap a guy’s parts it is extremely painful. You might think that you’ll anger the guy and make him want to hurt you more, but the thing these rapists told our instructor is that they want a woman who will not cause him a lot of trouble. Start causing trouble, and he’s out of there.

6] When the guy puts his hands up to you, grab his first two fingers and bend them back as far as possible with as much pressure pushing down on them as possible. The instructor did it to me without using much pressure, and I ended up on my knees and both knuckles cracked audibly.

7] Of course the things we always hear still apply. Always be aware of your surroundings, take someone with you if you can and if you see any odd behavior, don’t dismiss it, go with your instincts. You may feel little silly at the time, but you’d feel much worse if the guy really was trouble.

FINALLY, PLEASE REMEMBER THESE AS WELL ….

1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do: The elbow is the strongest point on your body. If you are close enough to use it, do it.

2. Learned this from a tourist guide to New Orleans : if a robber asks for your wallet and/or purse, DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM. Toss it away from you…. chances are that he is more interested in your wallet and/or purse than you and he will go for the wallet/purse. RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!

3. If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car: Kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won’t see you but everybody else will. This has saved lives.

4. Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping,eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc. DON’T DO THIS! The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side,put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU CLOSE the DOORS , LEAVE.

5. A few notes about getting into your car in a parking lot, or parking garage:

a. Be aware: look around your car as someone may be hiding at the passenger side , peek into your car, inside the passenger side floor, and in the back seat. ( DO THIS TOO BEFORE RIDING A TAXI CAB) .

b. If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars.

c. Look at the car parked on the driver’s side of your vehicle, and the passenger side. If a male is sitting alone in the seat nearest your car, you may want to walk back into the mall, or work, and get a guard/policeman to walk you back out. IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)

6. ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot).

7. If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; And even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN!

8. As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP IT! It may get you raped, or killed. Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking, well educated man, who ALWAYS played on the sympathies of unsuspecting women. He walked with a cane, or a limp, and often asked “for help” into his vehicle or with his vehicle, which is when he abducted his next victim.

Send this to any woman you know that may need to be reminded that the world we live in has a lot of crazies in it and it’s better safe than sorry.

If u have compassion reblog this post. ‘Helping hands are better than Praying Lips’ – give us your helping hand.

REBLOG THIS AND LET EVERY GIRL KNOW AT LEAST PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHATS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD. So please reblog this….Your one reblog can Help to spread this information.

THIS COULD ACTUALLY SAVE A LIFE.”

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