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#i just don't like the pairing at all and pretend they're different people
not-poignant · 5 months
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Good day! I saw a few Hannibal/Will fics in your bookmarks and was curious, sorry if someone asked this already, why did you passed this pairing? It seems so perfect for dynamics you like to write? Thanks and hope you have a peaceful and creative day!
Hi anon,
Putting this under a read-more because I don't actually like the Hannibal/Will ship.
I actually really don't like aspects of the show, and I really hate the pairing when it's canonical (almost everything I've ever bookmarked is an AU).
I generally avoid it wherever possible, but sometimes the tags are just too good and so I give the fic a try - and I'll generally like it because of the author, and will pretend that the couple is someone else.
It's not my dynamics at all, anon, I'm sorry. I've never been that interested in writing pure cannibalistic sociopaths who brainwash their victims and abuse them until they get encephalitis, and while there's lots of ways to write Hannibal so that it's not like that, I just don't also feel very drawn to Mads Mikkelsen either (I'm sorry everyone gomen I'm super sorry sdlkfjdas), which pretty much puts the whole pairing in the 'no thank you' basket.
It's funny because I liked the original stories by Thomas Harris, and I really like Hugh Dancy as well as Gillian Anderson. But I spent most of my time actually finding Hannibal/Will squicky, and while it's not as bad as it used to be, I don't go out of my way to read anything to do with them.
But sometimes the tags are just too appealing, lol, and I feel like the story won't feel like it's set in the canonical universe which helps!
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mythicalcoolkid · 1 year
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I love the "glasses are disability" thing because it applies to basically every complaint abled people have about disability
"You're not even that bad, why would you get that?" Have you ever used a magnifying glass for small details or zoomed in on a picture
"Why do you have that accommodation TODAY?" Why do you wear reading glasses when you're reading
"It seems like your 'needs' are inconsistent." Yeah and you wear sunglasses when it's sunny and not all the time
"But you can technically walk without that." Yeah and if I put the page really close to your face you could read it, it would just hurt and be hugely impractical, inconvenient, and limiting
"But you COULD go without it all the time, you don't NEED it to live." And maybe you could technically see without your glasses, doesn't mean it's comfortable or practical day to day
"If you REALLY had a hard time seeing you would have glasses." Have you ever known someone who couldn't afford a new pair of glasses? Or eye appointments? Someone who needed vision therapy or special prism glasses? Someone whose vision only gets bad during migraines or seizures? Someone with astigmatism that glasses can't help? Someone who didn't qualify for LASIK?
"You only use it when you're out in public." Have you ever gotten up to use the bathroom at night without putting on your glasses
"Decorating it is just trying to get attention, and it's a medical device so stop glamorizing it." Do you hate any patterned or colorful glasses frames too? Art with characters who wear glasses? People who make OCs with glasses? Glasses chains, prescription sunglasses, aesthetic fake glasses with tinted lenses?
"There are secretly lots of people just using aids for fun and attention." There are secretly lots of people wearing fake glasses or colored contacts for fun and attention, it does not affect you
"We need to find fakers, they're stealing disabled resources!" Someone pretending to need glasses is "taking" a seat in the front from someone who might need it more. That sucks and they shouldn't do that. But I'm not going to scrutinize every person who wears glasses to see if I think they really need that seat. You personally are not the arbiter of who is (based on the random times you've seen them) secretly not disabled
"My friend has that and doesn't act like that." Does every pair of glasses in production, or even every pair close to your prescription, work for you? Is your vision identical to every other nearsighted person?
"If you can do X why can't you do Y? Some people with that can do Y."/"But if you have that how can you do X? People with that can't usually do X." Some people are nearsighted and some people are farsighted and some people are both. Some farsighted people can read some without glasses and some can't. And good distance vision doesn't mean you don't ever need glasses, it's just an entirely different reason you'd need glasses
"You're too young to need that." And there are young people who need bifocal lenses
"Why don't you use this DIFFERENT aid though, it would look like you didn't even have an aid." Why doesn't everyone in the world wear contacts
"Why can't I/my friend/my kid play with it?" Do you let random strangers and children try on your glasses at the grocery store
"I was just trying to help, I thought you'd need a push/you were in the way." Are you cool with me suddenly pulling your glasses off your face to clean them, or because the glare was distracting me
"You'll eventually stop using it though right?" Are you planning on no longer needing glasses someday
Disabled people are free to add
I am aware this is not a 1-to-1 perfectly accurate post. Do not come into the notes trying to "um actually this isn't a perfect comparison." I know. Just don't
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changbunnies · 3 months
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Scent Of You, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin
♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, vague allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, dubcon
♡ Word Count: 7.8k (oops)
♡ Summary: In which a sweet, naive bunny hybrid nicknamed 'little red' becomes lost in the forest at night, and finds herself face to face with the big, bad wolves her grandmother always warned her about.
♡ Warnings: uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration before it devolves into smut, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There lol
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): dubcon (but the smut itself isn't very rough), pet names (though mostly as a title- such as bunny, little red, and sweetheart), the word slut is used a few times, gendered language such as "dirty girl", a lot of kissing, size difference, size kink (i'm sorry if you're tall just pretend ur small and they're huge because ur a rabbit and they're a wolf fsdgsdf), oral (m + f rec), some manhandling, some banter and mild rivalry between bin and chan, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms and multiple creampies
♡ Notes: so i intended to take a small break from writing after finishing crave but inspo struck me as i was trying to fall asleep and i NEEDED to write it so i literally shot up and wrote all of this in one sitting in a cold sweat fsdgdsf so here we are, one last surprise upload before my break <3 it's easily the most self indulgent fic i've written to date dfdgh bunny is my fave petname and this is basically just my excuse to be called bunny in a wolf binchan sandwich lmao this is not as proofread as my other stuff given how quickly i wrote it, and it's my first time writing a threesome, but i hope you enjoy! edit: there is now a sequel you can read here !
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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"Please, take care sweetheart. Don't stay out too long," your grandmother warns with a tender kiss to your forehead as you prepare to head out for the day, pulling the hood of your long, red cape up over your head, tucking in your hair and covering your lopped ears. "I know, grandmother, I know! I'll be back before you know it, I promise," you assure her with a smile, hooking your twine basket into your arm, empty and ready to be filled with treats of the forest.
Your grandmother heaves a soft sigh, as she falls back against the bed, and you give her hand a reassuring squeeze and a soft goodbye before you make your way out of your quaint cottage, a long line of intimidating, tall standing trees before you. Grandmother always worries for your safety, as the woods aren't entirely safe for a rabbit like yourself, but so long as the sun hangs bright in the sky, you'd be perfectly fine.
As grandmother has warned you countless times, it's only at night that the woods near your home become truly dangerous, as all manner of nocturnal predators leave their dens in search of their next meal. For a rabbit such as yourself, lingering in the woods at night is assuredly a death sentence; your diminutive stature and weak limbs would cause you to easily fall victim to the beasts that stalk through the forest with the moon's aid. 
The only thing on your side would be your speed, but even then it's no guarantee of safety once a predator has you in their sights; and so your grandmother always instilled a proper fear of the dark within you, in the hope that you'd never find yourself in a situation in which you'd have to flee in the first place. Entering the forest brings with it countless anxieties for your species, but it's not like you can simply not go- the gifts of nature are what sustains you, and you have to enter the woods, even live near them, if you want to have food in your tummy and herbal medicines on your shelves. 
As such, you are always very conscious of the amount of time you spend in the forest, only ever entering when the sun is brightly illuminating your surroundings, always careful and alert as you gather what you need. You observe the sun's position in the sky, use it to determine how much time you have left before it begins to set, always heading back well before it starts to sink behind the trees. And you'd never stay longer than necessary, especially not when you have grandmother waiting at home praying for your safe return!
But well.. grandmother is quite ill these days, and you spent more time than you usually would gathering the berries and leaves you’ll need to make her sweet, healing brews of tea. Soon enough, winter's chill would cause all the greenery to frost and wither, and you wanted to stock up now to ensure you had enough to last 'til the end of the season. It was for grandmother's health! Surely she'd understand and forgive you if you stayed out just a little longer than usual. 
But as dusk started to settle over the trees, and you realized how precious few moments of sunlight you had left to make it home with, panic began to accumulate in the pit of your stomach. You tried your best to take deep breaths, to not allow your heart to race- as long as you remained calm, you could get back before dark, you were sure of it. 
The more the sun sank however, the more you lost your clarity; you found yourself stumbling in circles, the encroaching dark causing the forest to become unrecognizable, leading you blindly in circles. You'd long since lost sight of the path you always followed home, and the moon and stars, which were normally such a beautiful sight, now came with a sense of foreboding. It was dark, you were lost, and grandmother was now all alone, probably worrying herself half to death wondering where you could be and if you're even still alive. 
You continue blindly weaving your way through the trees, just praying that you're moving in the direction of home; you can't afford to hide away and wait until morning, not when a beast could be around any corner. Using your speed to your advantage, you dart past a near endless sea of trees, praying, praying, and praying the clearing will come into view and you’ll see your cottage in the middle, with orange light from the fire peeking through the windows and smoke billowing from the chimney. 
Suddenly you stop, entire body freezing as your hair stands on end, nose twitching as an unfamiliar scent fills your nostrils; someone is near- someone that you should avoid at all costs. It’s so heavy, overwhelming beyond comprehension- the scent of the forest itself is still identifiable, but mixed now with something akin to leather, black coffee, and hot iron. The scent is actually quite pleasant, so that's not what causes you to freeze; it’s the unfamiliarity that is the true root of the problem, evoking a deep rooted, innate fear response. 
You know all the “safe” smells- that of other prey animals such as yourself, for instance, are recognizable, comforting, and bring about a sense of calm. To be met with the unfamiliar is to be met with danger; it means that whatever is near is something you’ve never encountered during your safe treks through the forest, it means that a predator likely has you in their sights, because as grandmother has told you, if you smell them it’s already too late- they’ve found you. 
“Now, now, what do we have here?” A deep voice calls, hidden from your sight. Your heart erupts in an erratic rhythm, a chill running down your spine as your eyes desperately search the darkness for the source of the voice. And there, you finally see it- or rather, him. A man, standing much, much taller and bulkier than you, sharp fangs exposed with his smile, fangs that you are sure will be used to rip you apart. 
You see pointed ears and dusky blue-silver fur, a long tail that swishes with intrigue and delight, a fur coat with the arms cut off, an exposed chest laden with scars both fresh and faded. He’s a wolf, you realize with dread, the thing you were taught to fear most of all. You unconsciously take a step back as he approaches, the moonlight illuminating him in a way that evokes both fear and reverence; as beautiful as he is dangerous. “What’s a little thing like you doing in the forest at night, hmm? Don’t you know it isn’t safe, little red?” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile, referencing the caped hood you’re wearing, a gift from your grandmother meant to keep you safe from men like him.  
You clutch your basket tighter as your legs begin to tremble, lowering your head and pulling your hood down further, trying your best to ensure your ears and other features are completely covered. He probably knows by smell alone you’re a prey animal, but you vainly hope he’ll let you go if he doesn’t realize you’re a rabbit- a stupid hope, but it’s the only one you have. “Poor thing, don’t be scared. You got lost, didn’t you, little red?” With each step towards you he takes, you take another step back, until your back meets that of a thick tree, the erratic rhythm of your heart building to a speed you thought otherwise impossible. 
“Tell me- where did you come from?” The wolf asks with an intimidating smile full of fang, “I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it I’ve smelled you before..?” With nowhere to go, caged against the tree as the wolf closes in, all you can do is tremble as you watch him sniff the air, licking his lips as if tasting your scent. Most prey animals are generally the same, but there’s only one place he’s gotten the scent of sugar and cream from.. 
“Ah, I know,” he says suddenly, smile growing wider as he speaks, “That little cottage in the clearing- that’s it, isn’t it? That’s your home?” You swallow as you timidly nod, your nerves much too frayed to attempt to lie- you’ve never been a good liar anyways, your grandmother having raised you to be honest and good. “You’re quite far from home, little red. But I can help you,” he offers, but you know better than to trust a wolf- they’re liars, all of them. 
“N-No, I.. I can get there by myself,” you say, finally finding your voice (shaky and timid though it may be.) The man hums, seemingly amused by your brave display; he knows how scared you are, can quite literally taste it, but he has to commend you for trying, at least. “I’m not sure that’s true. Do you know which way home is?” 
“W-Well, uhm, I.. I- I, I don’t-” you stutter and fumble, and he chuckles, a smug look of “thought-so” clear on his face as he grins at you. His hand finds your cheek, and you look up at him with glassy, teary eyes, heart thumping out of control as he strokes your skin with his thumb. He smiles sweetly, almost boyishly- a look that would be endearing if he wasn’t a wolf, and you weren’t afraid for your life. 
His clawed hand travels from your cheek to the top of your hood, and you quickly reach your hands up to clutch the fabric, keeping it fully tugged down in a vain attempt to continue to hide your identity. The wolf laughs, clearly amused at your reaction. “Come now, little red, show me what sort of ears you’re hiding under there,” he coos and you shake your head, eyes squeezing shut and knuckles turning white as you desperately cling to your hood. 
At this point it probably no longer matters what you are exactly- no matter the answer, it’s clear the wolf before your eyes has plans for you that won’t go unfulfilled. But still, your survival instincts are in overdrive, and you can’t help but try your best to protect yourself, even if the endeavor proves to be worthless. He tugs at your hood, not yet trying to fully pull it off, but rather playing with you- he could easily pull it off in one quick swipe, his claws could tear the fabric to ribbons, but he chooses to instead have his fun, watch you panic and struggle with the hood in your tiny hands. 
You look at him, unfallen tears blurring your vision; you don’t know what else to do. Grandmother always said if you found yourself cornered by wolves, your only option would be to run and pray for the best, but is that really the best you can do? And while you’re fast, wolves are faster- you’re sure the man would be able to catch up with you easily, especially given that the moon is his ally and he is likely extremely familiar with the deep woods.
Further still, he clearly stated he knows your home; even if you escape, he knows exactly where to go to find you. It fills you with dread, knowing that even if you do make it home, your grandmother would be there too; and you’d never forgive yourself if something bad happened to her because of you. It’s an impossible choice you are being dealt- surrender to your fate now, or try your best to flee and risk dragging your precious grandmother down with you. 
But as he finally tugs down your hood, your white, snow-like lopped ears are fully exposed, and the wolf’s fangs shine as he gleefully smiles, you find yourself unconsciously making a choice- you run, as fast as your legs will carry you. The cape gets caught and snags on stray branches from the myriad trees, tearing as you continue to run, adrenaline coursing through your veins, chest aching from the erratic, forcefully thumping of your heart, breath coming out quick and harsh. 
You barely make it 10 feet ahead through the trees before you’re crashing into something, the sudden impact causing you to let out an involuntary shout as you stumble back and fall ungracefully on your backside. Looking up, tears fall from your eyes when you realize it’s another wolf- shorter than the one who’d cornered you previously, but bulkier, with fur as dark as obsidian and a scent that matches it. You suspect that he was there the entire time, and you just didn’t notice due to the panicked focus you held on getting away from the blue-silver wolf. 
“Where do you think you're going, little red?” the new wolf speaks, affirming your fears; he was there for the entire exchange, witness to the moniker you’d been given and now using it for himself. “Oh Changbin, you caught her,” you hear the previous wolf say from somewhere behind you, leaves and twigs snapping beneath his feet as he approaches your spot on the ground. “Course,” the dark wolf evidently named Changbin speaks, kneeling down to look directly in your teary eyes, “I’d never let such a sweet little thing get away from us.” 
He reaches to the side of your body, where your twine basket has fallen from your arms and spilled its contents, all the berries and leaves you gathered now decorating the dirt. “Hmm, most of these are herbal. What a sweet granddaughter you are, gathering until late into the night! Your grandmother must be proud of you, hmm?” Changbin smiles, looking up to the previous wolf once he stands again, your basket in his hands, “Don’t you think so, Chan-hyung?” 
The blue-silver wolf, that the dark wolf calls Chan, hums in agreement, once again calling you a “sweet thing.” Chan offers you a hand to help you stand, and you hesitate, swallowing as your eyes dart nervously between them. Their eyes on you make you nervous beyond just the predator-prey relationship you share; they’re both so impossibly ethereal in the light of the moon, and it makes you wonder if all wolves are such divine creatures. 
Maybe that’s why the rest of the forest view them reverently; beautiful, powerful, utterly intimidating in all aspects- they offer no choice from a rabbit such as yourself but submission simply from presence alone. “What’s your name, little red?” is Chan’s next question, and again, you find yourself unable to lie; against your own sense of self-preservation, you tell him your name. And he hums, repeating your name as if testing the way it falls from his tongue before diverting back to his nickname for you. 
“Let’s make a deal, little red,” the wolf says, still holding out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You finally do so cautiously, letting Chan help you to your feet, your legs still trembling but not yet buckling in the face of fear. “W-What kind of deal?” you ask hesitantly, looking between the two wolves who smile and lick their lips, tongues ghosting over their fangs as they do. Beautiful, powerful, intimidating, your mind repeats.
“We want to play with you,” Chan says smoothly, the answer coming natural to him, “play with us for a little while, and then we’ll take you home. We promise.” You look at the other, younger wolf who nods, backing the sentiment of his superior. Here you are, confronted in the deepest reaches of the forest by two wolves, and instead of devouring you they just want to “play”..? What does playing entail with them? 
You’re not sure how much you truly want to know, but the promise of home dangling in front of you makes you consider their offer despite how foolish it may be. “You’re not.. tricking me, are you?” you ask, voice small, full of naivety and hope. “Of course not, sweetheart, we would never,” Changbin affirms, even going so far as to pick up the spilled contents of your basket and nestle them carefully back inside- a promise that by the time you’re done “playing”, you’ll be reunited with your sickly grandmother and able to care for her again.
“You just smell so sweet,” Chan says, his clawed fingers once again tracing over your cheek, “and we’ve always wanted to play with a sweet little bunny like you.” You nervously exhale the breath you unconsciously held when his hand traced your skin, searching his eyes for any sort of deceit. If you’re being honest, you’re not entirely confident in your ability to tell if the wolves are lying to you- they’re masters of manipulation, after all; lying is second nature to them. 
Still, you want to trust them- trust that after you play with them for a little while, they’ll keep their promise of taking you home with your basket in your arms and everything you need to get through the winter. “If you really promise, then.. I’ll play with you,” you answer, and the wolves both smile eagerly, with the elder wolf taking you in his arms, swiftly lifting you up off your feet. You squeak in surprise, instinctively clutching tightly to his fur coat, scared of being dropped. 
“Let’s go have some fun then,” Chan grins at you, making sure his hold on you is secure before he starts to move, “but not here. The floor here’s too dirty for you, isn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question in which he expects no answer; instead he starts winding through the trees quickly, a destination clearly in mind. You vaguely see the other wolf trailing behind before you squeeze your eyes shut, the blur of trees and wind whipping through your hair and past your ears making you dizzy as you’re carried further and further into the forest, likely towards its center. 
It takes you a few moments to open your eyes once you’ve realized you’re no longer moving at high speeds; Chan, who still has you in his arms, is now walking at a leisurely place through what you assume is his den. The smell of other wolves is distinct but distant- evidently, the three of you are the only ones home for the night. It makes you breathe a small sigh of relief to know the rest of his pack is absent, attending to their own matters. It makes you feel safer, somehow; as if you’re not literally inside a wolf's den, at the mercy of whatever it is the two before you want with you. 
Eventually you are carried into a bedroom- one that smells more of Chan than the other wolf, which leads you to believe this is his room specifically. Changbin doesn’t seem to mind that the “playing” will take place here, a smile still clear on his face as he shuts the door behind himself, locking the door behind him as Chan sets you on his rather large bed. 
Your ears lie flat against your head, your nerves eating away at you as you fiddle with your hands. You watch them both carefully, taking note of where Changbin sets down your basket before he meets you and Chan at the bed. The two of them standing over you makes you feel impossibly small, affirms how much better they are than you in every evolutionary aspect; speed, strength, size- they have it all. And you, one measly little rabbit with no significant qualities in comparison to them, who has no choice but to put her life in their hands if she wants to survive. How unfair. 
“Tell me, little red,” Chan starts as he sits next to you on his bed, one large hand enough to cup your entire face and direct your complete attention towards him, “are bunnies as slutty as they say?” Your eyes widen as you gulp in shock, having not expected such a forward, explicit question. “Yeah, I’m curious,” Changbin follows up, sitting firmly on your other side, caging you in between the both of them, “they don’t say ‘fucking like rabbits’ for no reason, right? So what are you? A slut?” 
“I-I’m not!” you sputter out; it’s true that rabbits have a reputation for promiscuity but you live a rather sheltered life with your grandmother- you hardly even know other rabbits your age, much less male rabbits. That being said, you have been a little.. let's say intense during your heats- but you rode those out with toys, not with the help of men. And you don’t think there’s any shame in promiscuity, but that’s simply not the life you lead; you live modestly, simply taking care of your grandmother to the best of your ability. You barely even have time to masturbate these days- fucking is entirely out of the realm of possibility, as busy as you are. 
“But you’ve taken cock before?” Changbin asks from behind you rather shamelessly, and Chan looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer with a cocked brow. “W-Well, yes, but-” you start and Chan is smiling again, another happy hum leaving his lips. ..Does your virginity status really matter here..? Your eyes widen again when the reality of what you’ve agreed to clicks, and Chan chuckles at your delayed reaction. “You’re not very smart, are you, bunny? But that’s okay- you don’t need to be smart to have fun, isn’t that right?”
Changbin is the next to speak, his hot breath coming out against your ear, his hands tracing your hips, “Mhm, sweet, dumb bunnies are cute, don’t you think? I bet they have lots of fun,” It’s vaguely condescending, how they speak of you- sweet and dumb, as if your intelligence pales next to theirs, as if you are an object designed for their pleasure and no other. And somehow, it adds to the tremble in your legs, your breath hitching when Chan squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb, forcing your mouth to open. 
You overtly whine, the wolf’s obscenely long tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring with another eager hum, his fangs catching on your lip with each kiss. As he kisses you, his fingers tug at the knot of your caped hood, leaving the task of discarding it to the other wolf once the knot is undone. Goosebumps once again rise on your skin, with Changbin kissing and licking your neck after your cape has been tossed aside, deeply inhaling your scent as Chan continues to abuse your lips with his tongue and teeth. 
“Chan-hyung wasn’t kidding when he said you smell so sweet,” he whispers against your skin as he continues to trail his kisses down towards your shoulder, “it’s intoxicating.” It’s shameless and almost embarrassing, the way arousal pools in your underwear despite all preconceived notions of how a rabbit should behave in the face of a predatory animal; but the more they kiss and lick, the more fear ebbs away, and becomes replaced by pleasure and yearning. It’s been so long since you last felt the touch of someone else, having been stricken to solitary heats since becoming your grandmother’s carer. It almost humiliates you to admit how good their touch feels on your burning skin. 
They can quite literally feel your body release its tension, Changbin’s strong arms being the ones to hold you up as you melt, and the smell of your leaking arousal obviously doesn’t go undetected by either of their noses. Chan pulls away from your lips, a smirk visible on his features when you open your eyes to look at him. “What a dirty girl you are, excited already,” he says, another whine escaping you not only from his words, but from the feeling of Changbin’s teeth grazing your neck.
Chan, who could quite easily rip your dress from your body, instead opts to tug the fabric away much more carefully than you’d have anticipated- perhaps they really mean to return you home after this? Changbin, whose torso was substantially more covered than his elder’s, removes his top, leaving you to feel his bare, muscular chest against your now exposed back. He wastes no time in latching back to your neck, licking, sucking, teeth grazing the skin, but not biting down- whether to spare you the shame of returning home with the clear mark of a predator, or because he doesn’t have permission from lead of the pack however, is unclear.
Your breasts, which you’ve always considered quite full, despite your diminutive frame, easily fit within Chan’s large palms. Their ability to not only make you feel, but look small leaves you dizzy. You should be afraid of how they eclipse your frame with their size, but instead you find it exciting, your brain unraveling everything you’ve been taught about self-preservation in favor of experiencing utmost pleasure from two hulking wolves. 
Shame, it seems, has entirely left you, as slick leaks from you easily, drenching your underwear with each touch from their rough hands. Chan’s fingers play with your sensitive nipples, pulling and tugging until you’re writhing against Changbin’s body, who has his own hands tracing your hips and thighs, pressing lingering kisses to any patch of skin he can reach. Chan lowers himself to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as his hand continues to play with the other. 
Meanwhile, Changbin’s hand slinks around, brushing over your stomach before his hand dips between your legs, rubbing your heat over your soaked underwear. “Fuck, this messy for us already? You have to feel her, hyung, touch her pussy,” Changbin speaking such filthy words right next to your ear makes you shudder, a whimper leaving from deep in your throat when Chan obliges, his hand quick to replace the younger wolf’s. Instead of touching you over your clothes however, he opts to completely tear them from your body, in stark contrast to how he treated your dress- you suppose the underwear is less important to remain intact, or maybe he just can’t help it after having gotten this far? 
“Oh, look at that Binnie, you’re right,” Chan grins as his fingers rub along your folds, spreading the slick around to create even more of a mess between your legs, “You’re such a dirty bunny underneath, hmm?” Your face burns red, another whine escaping as shame finally returns to you, your hands reaching to cover your face. The pair of them coo, finding the display cute, whilst simultaneously making their cocks throb- what a treat, to have found a bunny that is both incredibly sweet and effortlessly sexy all at once. 
Chan pushes Changbin’s hands away from your body, and quickly turns you around. Your back is now against Chan, and he hooks your legs over his knees, spreading you open for the younger wolf to see. “Let’s give Binnie a look at your dripping pussy, don’t you think he deserves it after being so sweet to you?” More slick dribbles its way out of you, soaking the mattress beneath, a treat for Changbin’s eager eyes. 
Peeking between your fingers, you see his dark tail swishing behind him in delight, very clearly excited by the sight he’s met with. “Can I taste her, hyung? I want to so bad,” he asks, licking his lips, his eager, sparkling eyes not leaving you for even a second. “Mm, what do you think, little red? Should we let him have a taste?” Chan asks, and though you can’t see him anymore, you can practically hear the smile in his voice- playful and fun. 
You nod quickly, though Chan doesn’t seem content with that response- he tsks, once again grabbing your face and twisting your neck to look at him. “You gotta use your words, sweetheart, you understand?” You start to nod again, but then quickly follow up with a small “yes”, to which the wolf smiles, and diverts your gaze back to Changbin, forcing you to hold the darker wolf’s gaze. “Good bunny, go ahead and tell him, then. Tell him you want him to eat you.” 
He can feel your face burn beneath his fingers, and though you can’t see it you’re sure there’s a smug smile gracing his perfect face as he waits for you to properly address Changbin. “I-I.. I want you to eat me, please,” you force yourself to mumble out, not missing the way Changbin’s cock throbs in his torn shorts. With one last lick of his lips, he’s diving between your thighs, looking up at you with a grin, “I’ll devour you, sweetheart.” 
You gasp when his tongue licks between your folds, a loud moan unintentionally falling from your lips as he eagerly laps away at you. You can’t help but squirm in Chan’s hold, his legs continuing to hold yours open and preventing them from closing around Changbin’s head. Changbin moans as he licks and sucks on your clit, as if the act is more pleasurable for him than you; and eventually he alternates between giving his undivided attention to your clit, to sliding his tongue as deep into your hole as it’ll go, letting his nose bump your clit instead. 
Chan’s erection digs into your back, sometimes groaning when your squirming and twitching causes friction; but he’s not content to just sit behind you and watch- he wants to add to the fun. So his hands come up to the soft base of your ears, expecting it to be as erogenous of a zone for you as it is for them- and by your reaction, he can tell it is. Your head falls back against him, and he can just catch a glimpse of your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, mouth hanging open as more moans and desperate whimpers leave you. 
“You getting close, sweet bunny? You wanna cum?” Chan asks, grinning when you once again quickly nod your head, a near endless stream of whimpery moans leaving you as your high approaches. “Answer properly,” he reminds you, though his tone isn’t as strict as before- it’s almost playful, amused; he’s having fun. “W-Wanna cum, please, please let- hah- please let me cum,” you beg between harsh breaths, your entire body feeling like a wire on the verge of snapping.
“You heard her Bin, make her cum,” you hear Chan say as he becomes harsher with your ears, his calloused fingers now rubbing in rough circles. Your entire body jolts and convulses as the wire finally snaps, cry after cry of white pleasure spilling from your lips as you release on Changbin’s waiting tongue. He hums as he licks up all you offer him, not separating himself from his spot between your legs until he’s sure he’s got it all and you’re shuddering from the overstimulation. 
Changbin takes your face in his hands, pulling you just slightly away from Chan as he drags you into a kiss, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth. Your taste is all over his tongue, his mouth stealing away all the breath you’ve just barely managed to breathe into your lungs after the intensity of your orgasm. Your eyes are hazy when he pulls away, fogged over by lust and needs for the wolves you are sandwiched between. 
You just barely register Changbin looking past you to Chan, as if asking what to do next; though the exchange is silent, it seems like Changbin knows exactly where to go from here after receiving a certain look- have they done this before, you wonder? Changbin scoots back just a bit before grabbing your legs, unhooking them from Chan’s knees before he’s pulling you down, closer to him. You gasp, your head falling straight onto Chan’s lap- well, more accurately, to one of his thighs, before he’s closing his legs to act as a pillow for you. 
His cock, though still obscured by the fabric of his shorts, is right next to your face and impressive in its size, just as Changbin’s is. The two of them, in almost practiced unison, pull down their shorts, though the task is harder for Chan, who has your head resting on his lap. He still manages well enough, and you’re met with the sight of his hard, leaking cock right in front of your eyes, almost close enough to touch your cheek. 
You look up at Chan, who looks down to meet your gaze with a grin. “Hope you’re ready, bunny,” is all the warning you get before you’re flipped around to your front, another squeak of surprise as you’re manhandled to your knees, bent to where Changbin wants you, with your face still squarely in Chan’s lap. One of Chan’s hands holds his cock at the base while the other reaches under your chin, lifting your face up to look directly at him. “Show me what you can do while you’re taking cock,” he instructs, your body trembling as you feel Changbin’s cock rub between your folds, slicking himself up. 
You whine when his cock presses against your hole, Changbin’s hands holding your hips up while Chan’s guide you to take his leaking cock into your mouth. You never imagined you’d be in a scenario where you’re taking in the cocks of two wolves at once, but you welcome the challenge. Changbin enters you first, the stretch the most intense you’ve ever taken- you can’t help but gasp, the sting pricking up every inch of your body. Chan, thankfully, doesn’t force you to take him entirely into your mouth in this state- he lets you instead kiss and lick the tip, recognizing your need to adjust to a size you’re entirely unused to taking. 
They both praise you, though Changbin’s voice is significantly more strained and breathy as he continues his slow push inside your tight heat. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs for support, and he doesn’t scold you for taking pauses in giving him attention, instead just watching as you squeeze your eyes shut and do your best to control your heavy breathing. “Big stretch, isn’t it bun?” Chan ends up asking, which causes you to nod with teary eyes. “‘s so big,” you exhale, and Changbin whines from behind you- you wonder if he likes hearing how big he is?
You can also hear the loud swishing of his tail, almost like a whip with how quick it snaps from side to side; it’s an undeniable truth that Changbin has been very, very excited to play with you the entire night. Changbin hisses once he’s fully aside, while Chan takes this time to rub your back in a soothing gesture you wouldn’t typically expect from a wolf. You look up at him, eyes full of equal parts gratitude and lust, and he simply smiles, hunching his back down to meet your lips in a kiss. 
“Not fair, I wanna kiss her too-” Changbin protests from behind you and Chan scoffs when he pulls away from your lips. “Your dick is literally inside her Bin, shut the fuck up,” he says and to your surprise, you giggle- Changbin is kind of cute, isn’t he? At least, in a weird, wolf sort of way. “Are you laughing at me?” he asks, and you can almost hear the playful sort of pout in his voice. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean to,” you mumble, hoping you didn’t offend him. 
You take a cautious peek at him from over your shoulder, relieved to find that he’s actually smiling once he stops his dramatic pouting. Cute, you think again, but he doesn’t let you feel that way for long. He pulls out to the tip and presses back inside in one, swift motion, causing a moan to erupt from you as your nails once again dig into Chan’s skin. “Won’t be laughing by the time I’m done with you, bunny,” Changbin says as he repeats the motion, and it takes everything in you to not utterly collapse onto Chan’s lap. 
He hits your spot every time, and you swear you can feel it all the way in your stomach- but Chan doesn’t let you stay idle in your pleasure for very long. “C’mon, sweet bunny, you know what to do,” he says, his hand under your chin directing you back to his own neglected length. Unable to control yourself much after Changbin starts picking up his pace, you simply open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing Chan to enter your mouth however much he wishes to, completely handing your control to him. 
Changbin’s thrusts cause you to take more of Chan into your mouth than you’d initially take all at once, and it causes Chan to curse, his cock hitting the back of your throat within seconds of entering your mouth. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to well with tears, and then for those tears to cascade down your cheeks, trying your best not to choke and gag as Changbin, voluntarily or otherwise, forces you to take more and more of Chan’s cock down your throat. 
You can hardly even breathe between the pleasure of Changbin drilling you from behind and Chan’s cock obstructing your primary airway, but it makes you dizzy in the best way possible. You feel floaty, every cell in your body knowing nothing but intense pleasure. Chan strokes your head, sometimes petting your ears for that extra burst of pleasure that makes you clench tighter and causes Changbin to curse from behind you each and every time. 
Changbin, who is observing the way his cock looks sliding in and out of your tiny hole, gets a flash of inspiration when he looks at your cute, fluffy cottontail. Experimentally, he takes it into his hands, rubbing your tail between his fingers, and you keen, a shiver traveling throughout your entire body. “Oh, you like that?” he asks, a bit smug as he continues to rub and gently tug at your tail, a loud whine escaping you that is muffled only by the cock lodged in your mouth. 
Chan can see your eyes rolling back, and decides to double the pleasure, not letting his hands leave your ears for even a second. Your noises tumble freely now, quick and constant, rising in volume despite how muffled they are. It’s overwhelming being played with like this, but it feels so fucking good you’d never think to complain- you may become addicted to this sensation when it’s all said and done.
You’re so wet and warm, and now squeezing impossibly tight- Changbin isn’t going to last, and you can feel him throbbing and twitching as his pace begins to stutter. “Shit- fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines, letting go of your hip with his other hand to reach under you and find your clit with his fingers. “Cum with me, pretty bunny, c’mon, I know you’re close too,” he says, quickly rubbing your clit between two of his fingers. 
Chan guides your head off of him, letting you suck in the breath you desperately need before he’s lifting you up just enough to meet his lips, capturing your moans with his mouth. You cum again with a succession of loud whimpers, your hands squeezing at Chan’s body desperately. “Oh my god, yes, ‘m cumming, c-cumming-” Changbin gasps, his cum shooting inside you in quick spurts, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he groans. 
Chan lets you fall back to his lap, breathless and almost entirely spent, with Changbin breathing heavily behind you. He pulls out when he finally starts to soften, and you glance behind you the best you can to see him pouting at his elder again. “You did that to make me jealous!” he accuses Chan in reference to kissing you, and the other wolf simply shrugs with a smirk. “I can kiss you too, Binnie,” you mumble, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. 
He whines again, and you realize it’s the first time you’re actually using one of their names. “You should’ve said my name while cumming, bunny,” he grunts as he scoops you up, pulling you back to his chest. “I don’t think she could’ve-” Chan starts to interject, laughing when Changbin glares at him, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss. 
They’re not actually fighting over you, but you find the dynamic fun- maybe that’s why they like to share; and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this desired before. Changbin’s tail is swishing again as he kisses you, and you giggle when you hear it- he’s like a puppy, you think; eager, and easily excitable, with a hint of jealousy that makes him fun to tease. When he pulls away, he looks at Chan and then back at you, “Can you handle one more, sweetheart? Channie-hyung still needs a turn with you.” 
“I can take it, I’m a good bunny,” you affirm and they both grin, Chan reaching out to you and pulling you away from Changbin’s arms, into his own. “Such a good girl,” he hums as he lays you down on the mattress, taking his place between your legs while Changbin lays down next to you, rubbing his hand over your soft tummy. Changbin’s cum is leaking steadily out of you, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind the mess it’s making on his mattress- you've made your own mess of his bed too, after all. 
Chan instead uses his fingers to gather up what has leaked and spread it over his own length, using it as lubrication for his own push inside of you. Changbin presses kisses to your heated cheeks, licking away the tears that fall as Chan starts to push his cock inside you. Chan, who has been entirely composed up to this point, finally breaks just a bit- enough for his breath to start coming out harsher as you feel him twitch and throb inside you. 
His tail doesn’t swish as fast and erratically as Changbin’s but it is nonetheless moving happily side to side, a clear indicator that you’re actually affecting him and he’s not all confidence and smug charisma. “Can I play with you while Channie-hyung fucks you, bunny?” Changbin asks, his hand creeping up to your chest, smiling when you quickly nod at him. 
Chan should scold you for not answering properly, but he’s focusing on his own pleasure now- taking your legs into his hands and holding them open while he fucks in and out of you. Changbin plays with your nipples, his hand taking turns between them while the other is used to keep himself propped up to watch. “You’re making him feel good, can you tell?” he asks, and you look at Chan, who has sweat trailing down his brow and his plump bottom lip sucked between his teeth, face scrunched in pleasure. 
It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you turn back to Changbin, a small pout on your lips. “I-I wish I-” a deep breathy moan interrupts your dialogue as Chan hits your spot, but you continue, “I wish I could’ve s-seen you too.” You bet he looked absolutely divine, just as Chan does. Changbin groans, your sentiment evidently having an affect on him. “God, you’re the fucking sweetest, bunny,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss you some more, his tongue once again shoving it’s way into your mouth. You tangle your fingers in Changbin’s curly hair as he kisses you, and he hisses when you unintentionally tug during a particularly harsh thrust from Chan. 
Changbin simply watches your face in awe for a moment when you pull away to breathe and let yourself fall back against the mattress, finding you incredibly cute, beautiful even, even with your hair a mess and drenched in sweat. “B-Binnie, Channie, think ‘m gonna cum again-” you whine, eyes rolling back once more when it causes Chan’s thrusts to become harsher. “Yeah? Gonna cum again, slutty bunny?” Changbin smiles, egging you on with his voice. 
You nod quickly, pleas starting to fall from your lips effortlessly, “I-I can, right? Been a good girl, a good bunny? Good bunnies can cum?” They both smile, endless encouragement leaving them such as “yes pretty, go ahead and cum for us,” and “good bunny, good girl, cum sweetheat.” Changbin pulls you back to his lips as you cum, wanting to kiss you as you cum since he missed the chance earlier, and he eagerly swallows your noises, his fingers finding your clit once more to drag out your orgasm. 
Chan as well starts to become louder, his grunts becoming more successive with each thrust, not losing speed even as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He grabs your face and tears you away from Changbin, kissing you in a display that is either meant to make Changbin jealous again, or is simply for his own pleasure. Or maybe it serves both purposes at once, because as Changbin whines in protest, you can feel Chan smirk against your lips before he’s losing himself again, his groans muffled against you as his hips stutter once, twice more before he’s spilling inside you, ropes and ropes of cum filling you to the brim. 
You reach out to Changbin’s hand, squeezing it in a gesture that is meant to stop his jealousy, and he smiles at you, calling you a “sweet little thing” once more, giving you a peck to your forehead. Your eyes close, not opening even as Chan softens and slips out of you, exhaustion having clearly seeped into every molecule of your body. “Poor thing’s tired,” you vaguely hear Changbin say as he wipes the sweat off your brow. Chan responds, though it’s hard to make out what he says as you unconsciously slip into sleep, unable to prevent it with how heavy your entire body has become, rest quickly claiming you. 
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The sound of birds loudly chirping wakes you, and you blink slowly awake, eyes straining as you realize you’re in the sunlight. You sit up quickly, looking down at yourself and then your surroundings; you’re out of the forest proper, in the clearing where your home sits quaintly in the middle, and dressed back in your prior clothing and with your hood over your ears- barring the underwear you lost. 
You’d think last night was a dream if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel yourself bare underneath your dress; so they really upheld their promise and brought you back home..? You see your basket, sitting neatly in arm’s reach, a small note resting atop the berries and leaves you gathered yesterday that simply reads, “Last night was fun, wasn’t it, little red? Come play with us again sometime,” with a cutely drawn heart at the end, signed ‘Binnie and Channie.’
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baek-at-it-again95 · 5 months
Text
We Know
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Pairings: park seonghwa x fem reader x choi san
genres/content: action, agent au, mafia au? rivalry, leader bang chan, angry seonghwa, y/n is san's weakness lol
Warnings: profanity, violence, weapons, suggestive content!! please take care of yourselves <3
A/N: I am nervous about this one y'all 😳 I've never written something like this before, but it ended up being so fun! This is for my friends, @milfks and L, who had these wonderful ideas! Love you two lots <3
Synopsis: Tonight's mission is in your hands, and you're eager to prove that you're capable of handling it on your own. Unfortunately, your plans are interrupted a bit sooner than you expected.
***
"I've got eyes on him," you mumble, pretending to fix your diamond earring as you adjust your earpiece. Surveying from the platform of the mansion's grand staircase, your eyes follow a man in a black suit as he turns the corner and disappears down a far hallway.
Chan's sigh rings in your earpiece. "Be careful."
"I can handle myself. Trust me."
"I trust you, Y/N. You know that. It's everyone else that I don't trust. It's your first time unaccompanied," Chan says.
"Like I said, I can handle it. Besides, the boys are always out by themselves and they're just fine." If you could see Chan right now, you know he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose out of stress, holding back from giving you a lecture on why your situation is different from theirs. You know his concern is out of love, and he would blame himself if anything were ever to happen to you. But this is your chance to prove yourself. Tonight, you'll be participating in an auction to get your hands on the Cromer, a powerful artifact that can control time. It's been rumored that ATEEZ has their sights set on it as well, so Chan had you do as much research on them as possible. Unfortunately for you, they're quite good at covering their tracks and keeping their identities under wraps. You know only a few of their names and faces, so you'll need to be extra careful about your approach to this. 
The auction will begin in about an hour, and you'd rather not hear a lecture from Chan. "I'm going in," you whisper. Your black dress flatters your figure perfectly, and you're excited to show it off tonight. With a deep breath, you make your way down the staircase, your heels silent on the expensive red carpet.
Clusters of people stand together around the large space, sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves. Many wives have separated into groups away from their husbands, who go on and on about their latest business ventures and investments. Understandable—how boring. You greet some people as you go, your charming smile in effect as their eyes land on you. One woman compliments your dress as you pass by, and you enthusiastically return her compliment, telling her that her own dress brings out her eyes. She blushes and tells you it's custom made, which basically means "my dress is worth twice as much as the average person's monthly paycheck." 
You continue to weave through the crowds and admittedly get a bit distracted, still thinking about the woman's compliment. As you turn into the hallway you witnessed your target disappear into, you bump straight into an oncoming person. A strong arm wraps around your waist before you can lose balance on your high heels. 
"Woah there, doll. Straying too far, are we?" A tall man with dark hair looks down at you, his eyebrows raised.
Park Seonghwa. Just the man you were looking for. 
"My apologies sir," you say quietly, feigning innocence and avoiding his eyes. His arm leaves your waist after steadying you. "I was wandering in hopes of finding a vacant room to lie down...I'm afraid I've had a bit too many drinks too early in the night." You stumble for dramatic effect, hoping he'll eat up your lies. "I have to sober up before the auction," you say, shaking your head. "Daddy will throw a fit if I spend all his money tonight."
The man looks amused. "Yeah? Better be careful, princess."
"I can handle myself," you say for the second time tonight, stepping closer to trace the pads of your manicured fingers over the fabric on his chest. He tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his intense gaze. He's breathtaking. Suddenly, you have an idea that seems much more fun than your previous plans.
Sorry Chan, you think as you press yourself against Seonghwa.
***
You didn't find anything of importance on Seonghwa's person, but you did manage to slip a tracking device into his suit pocket. Chan should be able to access his location any minute now.
You enter the auction room fifteen minutes before the event is scheduled to start, scanning the tables for your seat. It's dimly lit, a majority of the lighting coming from a screen behind the stage. You don't see Seonghwa seated anywhere yet.
"And what are the starting bids on you, lovely?" a low voice asks, breath tickling your ear. You turn to look at the owner of the voice, his strong facial features almost as striking as his neatly-styled red hair. He's practically undressing you with his eyes, and you can't say you hate it.
"Whatever you've got to offer, pretty boy," you reply sweetly. He smirks, pleased with himself as one of his hands finds your waist.
"My friend says you're not as innocent as you look."
"Pardon?" you ask. The man turns you around, your back against his broad chest as his free hand reaches up to your ear. Before you know it, your earpiece is on the ground in front of you, crushed beneath a polished designer shoe. Looking up, you see that the shoe belongs to none other than Park Seonghwa. Of course they're working together.
You freeze as something cold presses to the exposed small of your back. 
Fuck.
"One wrong move and you're done for, princess," the man with red hair says calmly, lowering himself back down to your ear. "Try to cause a scene and innocent people will pay the price."
You take a deep breath before nodding your head in submission. You slowly turn back around and watch as he returns his gun to his shoulder holster, his expensive blazer completely concealing it. No one around you sees the ordeal, too distracted and eager to spend their money. The man then puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the auction room. Seonghwa follows close behind, making sure you aren't able to slip away. You have no idea if he is armed at this point in time.
You're led into a large meeting room at the very end of the upstairs corridor, the bright moonlight seeping through the open balcony doors and illuminating the glossy wooden table at the center of the room. You catch a glimpse of the pretty garden below the balcony before the man guiding you throws you to the floor. You can feel the bruises forming on your knees instantly.
You don't dare fight back yet—your training in hand-to-hand combat doesn't do shit when your opponents are armed with guns, of course. You would attempt it if he were alone, but with Seonghwa present and potentially armed, you'd rather feel the situation out. 
God, Chan will never let you out onto the field again. He's probably losing his mind now that you've lost contact with each other. Not to mention the fact that you were busted before you even had a chance to get what you came here for. The auction is going to start any minute, and now you're certain there are other ATEEZ members in the auction room that are ready to claim the Cromer instead of you.
You're angry with yourself for not being more prepared with your own weapon, but your favorite handgun unfortunately didn't fit under your dress of choice. You sigh to yourself. At least you look good in it. 
"Give it up, sweetheart. We know what's going on here," the man with red hair says. Seonghwa locks the door behind him before speaking.
"I saw your wolf tattoo, and I've seen only one other just like it. You're working with Bang Chan," he states, is emotions unreadable. 
No. You had forgotten to conceal your waist tattoo since your dress fully covers it. You hadn't expected to completely remove your dress tonight. Rookie mistake. You should expect everything. 
"All this over a tattoo?" You eye him, downplaying the situation.
"How brave of you to interfere with our operation by yourself," the other man comments, ignoring your previous sentence. "No back up here to save you, huh?" 
"Oh, you don't really believe she's here alone, do you, San?" Seonghwa asks. Choi San. You recognize that name. Seonghwa comes over to you, a completely different aura surrounding him now. He's intimidating, gripping your chin with much more force than he had earlier. "Be a good girl and tell us where your friends are, yeah? Don't make things difficult." A chill runs down your spine at his threat. 
"I'm not here with anyone," you state. It's the truth. Even though Chan had insisted he wait in his car nearby, you convinced him to stay and monitor operations from your base. If you don't make contact within the next hour or two, he'll know something is wrong and follow Seonghwa's location.
"Wrong answer, princess." He grips your hair harshly and you wince. "I have a hard time believing that they would put you in a situation like this without back up. Where are they?"
It's sweet of him to underestimate you, honestly. You got yourself into this situation, and you're sure as hell going to get yourself out. You're already halfway done formulating your escape plan. "I said they're not here," you answer again. He lets go of your hair with a hiss.
"It would pain me to ruin such a pretty face...I think we'll let the boss deal with you." 
The boss? Chan told you that no one knows the leader of ATEEZ—it's safe to assume that anyone who's seen him hasn't lived to tell the tale. You're not sure if he'll have any mercy at all to offer you. But maybe these two still have some in them.
"No, please!" you plead, your fists balled up as they rest on your thighs. "If I tell you where they are, will you go easy on me?" You let your head hang low, looking at the floor. San lowers himself in front of you and you find his eyes. You blink, letting a few tears slip down your cheeks. 
"Sure, doll face. We will." You look away from him to briefly meet eyes with Seonghwa. He still stands at full height, arms crossed as he looks down at you. Perhaps it's your tears making your vision blurry, but you swear his gaze softens at the sight of you. You look back to San, sniffling.
"You promise?"
Now, never ever would someone in their right mind trust a promise from someone like them. But you're not planning on following through with your own side of the promise, either. Two can play at this game. You would never jeopardize the safety of SKZ...you told Chan you could handle yourself and you meant it.
"Promise," San says. He's truly something else, radiating such strong and convincing charm. You would fall for his promise in a heartbeat if you didn't know who he really was.
As you slowly rise from your knees, San stands with you. "They made me do it," you confess, more tears spilling from your eyes and taking your favorite mascara with them. "They said they would kill me if I didn't," you whisper, looking away. 
"It's okay, doll," San says, coming closer to comfort you. You flinch before he touches you. "Just tell us where they are, okay? We'll help you." You bury yourself in his chest, your frame shaking in his arms as you cry quietly.
Your best performance yet, if you say so yourself.
After a long minute in his embrace, you begin to pull away. In the process, you grab the gun out of San's shoulder holster and hold the barrel to the center of his chest. He curses under his breath, raising his arms in defeat. You slowly step backwards, turning your aim to Seonghwa as a warning not to try anything, and then returning your aim to San. Seonghwa makes no attempt to grab for anything, so now you know for a fact that he is unarmed.
"I told you the first time that there's no one here with me." You smile. "But it's nice to discover that you both have a heart." 
"Tell Chan we said hi," Seonghwa replies, irritated. 
"Of course, it would be rude of me not to. It's truly been a pleasure, boys." You give Seonghwa a wink. "We'll meet again, right? Maybe you can introduce me to your boss next time."
You've backed up far enough to step onto the balcony, assessing the situation above and below. The garden below is deserted now that the auction has started, but it's a far drop to the ground. There is another balcony above you, but it seems a bit too high for you to escape to. You're trapped, so you're going to have to pull this off fast to avoid getting hurt. 
All you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat as you throw the gun over the railing into the garden. If you slip up, they could get their hands on it again, and you cannot let that happen. You'll fight the real way if you must.
As soon as it leaves your hands, the men launch at you. You quickly dodge them, ducking under San's punch and managing to sweep Seonghwa's leg, knocking him to the ground. Now that they're both on the balcony, you run back inside, shutting the french doors and locking them behind you. You know it will barely do anything to set them back—they could easily break them down if they wanted to. Through the glass, you watch as San pulls Seonghwa off the ground and looks at you. He doesn't make an immediate effort to get inside.
Is he letting you go? 
You shouldn't wait around any longer to find out. You blow him a kiss before taking your exit out into the main hall. 
But after stepping out, you see why they let you go...
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neverinadream · 1 month
Text
True, But My Bed Is Closer
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Summary: Christian struggles to find the right words when asking you to stay over for the first time.
Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope - but the idea comes from something @pulisicsgirl said yesterday 🫶🏻
Warnings: fluff, pre-established relationship, neighbour x neighbour, sommelier!reader, consumption of alcohol, talks of alcohol, i'm not a sommelier and far from ever being a wine expert so if something is wrong just ignore it, not edited, rushed ending
Notes: i don't know what this is and truth be told, i don't like the ending 🫣 anyway, hopefully you enjoy it. feedback is always appreciated and requests are open
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"That can't be true."
"And I'm telling you it is," you reply, dropping your hands into your lap, "remember, which one of us is the expert here?"
Christian shakes his head, laughing light-heartedly as he reaches for the bottle of wine. The bottle was stained black, the type that came with a cork, and the label was printed in gold lettering. The company's logo stood out to him the most when he was trying to find the right bottle. It resembled a wax stamp, with a crest printed in the centre. He topped off both of your glasses, emptying the bottle of its very last drop, before passing you your glass.
"Cat pee?" He watches you take a sip, subtly glancing at your mouth as you lower your glass and lick your lips. "I don't believe you."
"Okay, maybe I've exaggerated a little, but-" A giggle bubbles in the back of your throat as you watch him playfully roll his eyes. "-but-! It did smell like cat piss." You take another sip, scrunching your nose as you remember the smell.
"And people liked it?"
You nod your head, cradling the glass between your hands. "It won awards."
"Do I even dare to ask how much a bottle of 'Le Cat Pee' costs?" Christian asks, draping his arm over the back of his couch, turning himself to face you. He kept his glass steady in his other hand, occasionally lifting it to take a sip.
"Not unless you want me to phone for an ambulance because you've gone into cardiac arrest." His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, a droplet of wine dribbling down his chin as he takes a sip. You pretend you don't see it, hiding your smile behind your glass. "It's not the most expensive wine on our list though," you mumble, taking a quick sip, "we have bottles on that list that cost nearly a thousand euros, if not more, and there a people who are far too happy to pay for them. Sometimes I want to tell them they're stupid for buying bottles that expensive, but you know what they say, the customer is always right."
"Jeez," he blows out hot air and nods to the bottle at his side, "and I thought I was paying too much for that bottle."
You set your glass down on his coffee table, making sure to rest it carefully on the coaster and replace it with the empty bottle. You knew about the company that made it, even visited the vineyard where the grapes grew last summer, when you wanted to introduce more local wines to the list. You and Eva, a waitress with a bubbly personality who always wore bright pink lipstick, and aspired to be a sommelier, had spent the afternoon touring the vineyard with the owner's eldest son, Edoardo, quickly getting tipsy on samples of wine and giggling at Edoardo's terrible jokes.
It was a family-run business, spanning back multiple generations, making it perfect for a family-run restaurant. But the owner's oldest thought differently, putting an end to your idea before it could even be considered.
"The labels are all made by machines now," you say, sitting the bottle back down, "but, originally, they used to put actual wax stamps on the bottles."
He chuckles, running his thumb delicately over the curve of your shoulder, drifting up the base of your neck. "Of course, you know that."
"Sorry," you apologise, looking down at your lap, "sometimes I can't turn it off." You knew not everyone cared about the history of wine, no matter how fascinating you thought it to be.
"Don't." He dips, kissing your shoulder and then your neck, breathing in the sweet sugary scent of your perfume, before drawing back to look at you. There was a slight red tinge to your bottom lip from the red wine you had been drinking. He was itching to reach out and run his thumb against it, but settled for leaning his head against his hand instead. "I like it." You give him a shy smile. "You're too smart for the likes of me."
"Oh, I don't know," you shrug your shoulders, glancing up at him, "you're pretty smart too."
"I'm pretty," he cracks a joke, making you giggle, "but I don't know if I'm smart too."
"Seriously?" You snort. "I've been here two years, Christian, and I make a fool of myself every time I try to speak Italian. Just the other week, I think I offered a threesome to a man and his wife." You scrunch your face and groan, remembering it like it had happened yesterday.
Christian had to agree, laughing quietly under his breath. You had as much grace with the Italian language as an elephant did performing ballet.
"But you've been here, what, eight or nine months and it's already like your seventh spoken language."
"Fourth spoken language," he corrects, putting his glass aside to take your hand. He slips his fingers through yours, his chest swelling when you squeeze around them. "But who's even counting?"
He lifts your joined hands and kisses the back of your hand, his lips lingering against the warmth of your skin, before lowering them a second later. A chance encounter on the stairs seven months ago had led to what was probably the best four months of his life. And you couldn't agree more.
You never thought you find someone who you could trust after the messy relationship you had with your ex, James, but Christian had yet to prove he wasn't worthy of that trust. He listened to you when you talked, clung to every word you had to say, made you laugh, made you smile, but importantly he made you feel seen.
"Did you always know you wanted to be a sommelier?"
You shake your head. "No, I didn't even know it was a thing until I was like nineteen. I wanted to own and manage a hotel."
He looked surprised. "Seriously?"
You pull your joined hands onto your lap, using your free hand to trace lines on the back of his hand. "My dad was a concierge and, even though it wasn't allowed, he'd sometimes take me to work with him. To a six-year-old, that hotel lobby was like paradise."
He watched your eyes light up as you recounted the memories of dressing up in parts of an old uniform, standing next to your dad as he greeted guests. The sleeves were always too long for your arms and the hat kept falling into your eyes, but it never stopped you from trying to copy your dad. Growing up, all your friends wanted to be a pop star or an athlete, but you just wanted to be like your dad.
"I would make myself dizzy in the revolving doors, run up and down the giant staircase, terrorise the grouchy receptionist," you giggle, your smile softening as you spoke about your dad again, "But, when it was time to leave, my dad would pick me up onto his hip and he would always say, 'Bug, one day, I'll have a hotel much grander than this.'"
"Bug?"
Your face flushes and you present him with a smile. "Yes, Bug."
"So?" He lifted his head off his hand and stretched his arm back across the couch. "Did your dad get his hotel?"
He fakes a gasp. "My girlfriend is a dropout?"
"No," you shake your head, "he got ill, so he took early retirement instead; he and Mum have just finished their second cruise. He now wants to visit as many countries as he can, dragging my poor mother with him." You release his hand and reach forward for your glass, taking a sip. "So, anyway, I decided I'd go to uni, maybe try and get a degree in hotel management. But by the end of the first year, I realised I no longer shared the same dream as my dad."
"Your-?" You wipe your mouth, nearly spitting a mouthful of wine back into your glass. He had caught you off guard, calling you his girlfriend. "Uh, yes," you decide not to fuss over it, "your girlfriend is a dropout."
"So, let me guess," he shuffles closer, bumping his knee against yours, "you backpacked your way through Europe, where you fell madly in love with some guy you met in France - no, Amsterdam - who wore sandals and rode a bicycle?"
"Not even close," you giggle, taking another sip, thinking that would've been more fun than having to deal with George. "I moved back home, got a job in a restaurant and hoped I'd wake up one day knowing what I was meant to do."
You tell him about the first sommelier you had met, a tall, lanky fifty-something-year-old man, with thinning, white hair and a constant smell of whiskey on his breath. At best, he was a functioning alcoholic, who snuck quick swigs of whatever was open behind the bar when no one was looking. He slacked heavily on his duties, sometimes showing up to work halfway through the dinner service. And when he did show up, he snapped at the waiters for offering customers the wrong wines.
"One night, we were serving a brand new menu, just trialling out a few new dishes, and George never showed. He wasn't answering his phone and none of us had the time to go by his apartment, so I did the next best thing - I broke into his locker."
Christian tilted his head, stifling a laugh. "That was the next best thing?" He challenges you. "To break into someone's locker?"
"He kept his notebook in there," you explain, leaning over to set the glass back down, the last bits of wine swirling around the bottom, "except his handwriting was terrible, even worse than yours, and I had to guess most of the pairings. I did the best I could with what I had. The night was still a mess, and George got me fired for damaging his property, but I liked it." There it was again, Christian noted, as the same light from earlier twinkled in your eyes. "I liked slipping into the role of a sommelier, trying to bullshit the customers the best that I could. It was fun."
He slipped his arm around your waist and caught a glimpse of his watch, his chest sinking when he saw how late it was. "I'm glad you found your thing," he mumbles, pushing the sadness down. He brushed his lips gently against your hairline, humming as you leaned into him.
"So am I," you agree, not wanting to imagine your life without a hundred different bottles of wines all bouncing around your head.
You prided yourself on knowing the difference between a white wine from France and one from Italy. You liked being able to tell people about the grape that was used to make the wine they were drinking, even if they particularly didn't care. You knew red wine went best with a stake, that sparkling wine went best with fried seafood, and that champagne was once much lighter and pinkish in colour.
You were a nerd for all things wine related and you loved it.
You loved that it brought you to Milan and that Milan brought Christian to you.
Christian looks back at his watch, the soft ticking acting as a reminder that your time together was coming quickly to an end. Soon Christian would be leaving for Texas, taking him away from Milan for a week or so, and you would be leaving for a two-week stay in Inverness to help an old friend plan an event for some prestige wine society.
"It's getting late..."
"I know," you sigh, tipping your head back to look at him, "but I guess it's a good thing I only live across the hall." You stay rooted to your spot and Christian shows no signs of getting up. "Means I don't have far to travel," you whisper, drumming your fingers against your lap.
"True," he hums, settling his hand on top of yours, bringing your drumming fingers to a halt, "but my bed is closer."
Your mouth opened and closed, a broken hum and an, "oh," being all you could muster up.
"Shit-!" You watch as he scrunches his nose, the peeks of his cheeks quickly turning an embarrassing shade of pink. "I'm sorry," he groans over the giggle that slipped past your lips, your hand flying up to quickly catch it. "I swear that sounded a lot better in my head," he nervously laughs, turning to look at you, "I didn't mean to just blurt it out like that."
"It's okay," you nod your head, giving him a small smile, "and technically you are right; your bed is closer than my apartment."
He tries not to smile too much, playing it off as calmly as the fluttering in his chest would allow. "Yeah?" His voice cracks, but saves himself with a quick cough. "You sure? What if you find out I'm a terrible sleeper or that I snore too loudly?"
You shrug your shoulders and reach for the last of your wine. "Who's to say I won't be the one snoring loudly?"
He chuckles, picking up his glass and polishing off what remains, using his knuckle to wipe the corner of his mouth clean. "No, you don't look like a snorer," he says, resting his head back against his hand, "you look more like a talker. I'll probably wake up to you talking about wax stamps on wine bottles." You smile at him for remembering your silly little wine fact. "Do you want to open another bottle or...?"
You shake your head, feeling like you had hit your wine limit for the night. Any more and you might just consider turning this night into a night of firsts and not just a first.
"Then do you want to go to bed?" He asks, taking your glass and discarding it with his to the coffee table.
"I would love that."
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Football Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @brasiliangp @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3
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20dollarlolita · 9 months
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My friend is getting some crap on instagram about perceived classism in the lolita community, and as someone who runs a budget-focused lolita fashion blog, I'm going to rehash some of the old "but I can't afford burando!" conversation.
For some background reading, here's where I bought three "lolita" "dresses" off ebay, and what I actually received for my money. And here's a breakdown of one of those specifically. I'm linking to these because I want everyone to remember that the pictures on ebay, amazon, wish, etc do not represent what the actual piece you receive will look like.
Lolita fashion can be expensive, but the less expensive end of legitimate lolita fashion is not actually as expensive as many people think it is. It's not all $300 for a dress and $60 for a pair of socks. There are options that bring the price down to other fashions. It cannot compete with the hyper-fast fashion of Shein and H&M and other places where the clothing is designed to be disposable. This is because lolita clothing is not disposable. Even modified or damaged, lolita fashion pieces have resell value. It's very common for people to be wearing garments that are over ten years old. There's also a lot of documentation about how hyper-fast fashion is damaging to the environments where it's made and the people who made it.
Okay, so that's all very fine and well, but it's true that recognizing that something is worth the money doesn't actually get you the money to buy it. There's a lot of things that I recognize are worth the money it costs to buy them, but that I don't have the money for. I don't drive a high-end electric car, even though I think it would be a better choice for me, because I don't have the money for a high-end electric car. So I do, very distinctly, understand that. I'm not about to tell someone "just save up for it!"
But, when someone tells you that you cannot buy lolita fashion on wish dot com, they're not actually saying "you won't be accepted in a wish dot com dress." They're saying, "any money you spend on a wish dot com dress will be wasted, because you will not receive a usable garment." Let's play pretend for a second. You come up to me with $20 and say, "I'd like to buy clothes." I say, "Good. I'll sell you some clothes." I then take your $20 bill, rip it into small pieces, eat all of the pieces, and say, "that's your clothes." Now, you didn't actually get any clothes from that, and there's no way you're getting your $20 back because I have consumed it. Your friend comes up to me and says, "Hi, I'd like to buy clothes." You say, "Don't give her that $20! It will be a waste of money!" Your friend says, "That's classism, because I only have $20." That's the conversation that's happening right now on my friend's instagram.
Classism does exist in the lolita fashion community. It can even come from people with good intentions. But, when it comes to buying on Ebay and Amazon and Walmart.com, people who are saying, "you can't buy lolita fashion on walmart dot com," aren't saying, "we won't accept your walmart dot com dress, because it was cheap." What they're saying is, "the thing that the site is telling you that you're buying and the thing that you will receive are going to be two different things. The thing you will receive will barely be a garment." There's a reason why, when I say "lolita dress from ebay," I have to typeset it as "'lolita' 'dress' from ebay," because it will probably be neither lolita nor a dress.
If you're new to the fashion and want a good shopping resource, 42lolita is a reseller/shopping service that will tell you what the shipping will be up front. Many other resellers will send you the shipping costs after you make the purchase, which makes it harder to predict what you'll be paying. You won't be getting a dress for $20 on 42lolita or anywhere else, but the prices they charge are more in line with shopping at a department store, rather than shopping at a big name designer store. There's a lot of other ways to purchase lolita fashion, and I just used 42lolita as one example.
The number of people who genuinely want the fashion to be as expensive as possible is not all that big. Even people who occasionally buy a $300 dress enjoy finding inexpensive accessories and support pieces. Finding lolita-usable jewelry on the Walmart clearance rack is a thing that's exciting to most people in the fashion. If there was a secret to buying $20 dresses on ebay and getting something that could be used in the fashion, people in the fashion would absolutely already be doing that.
So anyway, yeah, there's classism in the lolita community, but telling someone that they should not give me $20 for clothes when experience shows that I'm just going to rip it up and eat is not classism. Friends don't let friends spend money on badly made replicas on aliexpress.
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milksnake-tea · 11 months
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The Stellaron Hunters were a group renowned and hated across the galaxies, both feared and respected by the factions. But under those skillful manipulations and operations, was an organization as put together as a monkey circus. You should know this best, as a member of this menagerie.
stellaron hunter!reader (no specific pairings)
contains: cursing, possibly ooc, written before version 1.2, just a bunch of silly shenanigans, unedited, can be read as romantic and platonic !!
word count: 3.7k
a/n: i had to rewrite this like... 4 times bc tumblr kept deleting it :// anyways night dancer got me through this piece so :D u can tell i have a blade preference but listen he's hot
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Before we get on with the sillies, let's lay down some groundwork.
Every Stellaron Hunter has a specific role in mind. Blade is the feral dog that you throw at people, Kafka pisses people off (and shoots ig), and Silver Wolf gets past all defenses.
You're the expert on espionage and disguise. With the power of masks, voice changers, and makeup, you can become basically anyone if you put your mind to it. Even people with completely different builds than you, you could pull off - as long as the holographs don't start glitching out.
You're often paired with Silver Wolf in order to infiltrate various bases. Silver Wolf can transcend any physical barriers, while you sweet talk your way into the inner circles of any leaders. Sometimes, you implant ideas into people's heads in order to guide them towards a certain path, sometimes you just do it for the fun of it.
Your favorite victim so far has been the Express. Ever since the Trailblazer joined, you've entertained yourself by posing as them or other members of the Express (the only ones you can't figure out are Welt Yang and the conductor, Pom-Pom).
And it was surprising, how easily you could trick March 7th and Dan Heng. You had no idea where the original Trailblazer was (probably up some poor soul's dumpster), but frankly, you didn't care.
You somehow managed to trick the two for the better half of a day. It wasn't until you didn't jump at the sight of the first trashcan on the Xianzhou Luofu that the duo realized that something was off.
"Who- Who are you?!"
March stepped back, Dan Heng already drawing his spear. But you weren't going to give in so easily. No, you wanted to see just how far you could take this.
"Guys?" You feigned hurt and confusion as you faced the two. "What're you..."
"Don't play dumb," Dan Heng cut you off, thrusting his spear under your chin. "You're not them. The real Trailblazer would've started ransacking that trashcan by now."
What kind of freak-
"C'mon guys, I have taste," you sighed, crossing your arms. "The trashcans here don't compare to the ones at Belobog. They're not as shiny."
"Trailblazer said that appearance doesn't matter when it comes to trash!" March shot back, her bow appearing in her hands. "Enough games, who are you really?"
You paused for a moment, contemplating your options. You could try to bullshit your way out of this, but you sincerely doubted you would be able to. What kind of freak personality did Silver Wolf program into the vessel, anyways?
You sighed, making the two tense up. Your face, still that of the Trailblazer's, twisted into a condescending sneer, before you doubled over in laughter.
"Ah... Damnit, and here I thought I was doing well!" You stretched your arms, March backing away from you. "Well, that just goes to show, I still have much to improve."
With a snap of your fingers, your disguise melted away, revealing your true appearnce.
"You're-!" March gasped. "You're one of the Stellaron Hunters!"
"Am I really that famous?" you pondered, leaning back on the railing. "And here I thought Kafka or Silver Wolf were more popular."
"What're you trying to pull," Dan Heng growled, "pretending to be the Trailblazer? What did you do to them?"
"Oh, nothing," you replied simply, popping your bone. "I just sent them a coupon for that restaurant down the street. So don't worry yourselves, I'm just here to have a little bit of fun."
Before the two could comprehend the stupidity of their companion, you jumped onto the railing, balancing on your toes.
"Well, it's been fun, Nameless." You waved cheerfully, taking a step back into the open air. "Let's meet again sometime soon, yeah?"
"Wait!" They rushed to the railing, adamant on catching you - but you had already vanished.
The world might see you as a complete weirdo, but honestly, you aren't even the worst of the Stellaron Hunters. In your humble opinion, you're the lesser evil compared to your comrades.
If you're going to survive in this job, you have to get used to Kafka bullying you. Don't worry, she does it to everyone, it's not just you. But signing up to become a Stellaron Hunter also means you sign up to a life of relentless teasing.
You roll your eyes at the feeling of a familiar gun barrel against your head. Kafka holds it against your temple firmly, but you know her finger isn’t anywhere near the trigger. It’s not like you’re Blade, who somehow survived getting thrown off a four-story building.
“Now who do we have here?” Kafka muses lazily. “A potential spy from the IPC? Or perhaps, one of the Xianzhou Cloud Knights?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Kafka,” you turn around, unimpressed. With one move, you pulled off your mask, glaring at her pointedly as you grab a bottle of water. “I know that thing isn’t loaded.”
“Oh, it’s you, [Name],” Your senior gasps mockingly, removing the gun. “When did you come in? I could’ve sworn an intruder-”
You throw the bottle at her. She dodges because of course she does.
And Kafka isn't even the least of your worries. At least she has a sense of financial responsibility.
There's no doubt that Silver Wolf is integral to the workings of the Stellaron Hunters, especially with her hacking abilities. She's certainly skilled with her work, and she has saved your ass many times before.
But sometimes, you have to play babysitter to her, because homegirl may or may not have a gambling addiction, especially when it comes to whatever those gacha games of hers. Whenever she visits the city's nearby arcade or casino, either you or Kafka have to be around so that she doesn't end up gambling all of your funds away. You would get Blade to do it, except he couldn't care less about your financial problems.
“Let me go! I’ve almost got it, I know I do!”
Silver Wolf kicked at your shoulders wildly as you hoisted her up. You paid her no mind as you left the arcade, Blade walking in tow. You kept a firm grip on his sleeve, making sure he didn’t run off and start any trouble. You saw the look he gave the claw machine. If you hadn’t dragged Silver Wolf away, he would’ve likely broken the thing out of impatience.
“I was so close!” The girl on your shoulder whined, like a kid who didn’t get their favorite toy.
“You already spent 500k on it,” you replied bluntly. “It’s a scam, don’t you know?”
“So what?” Silver Wolf retorted. “I would’ve won!”
“Yeah,” you shifted her up, your shoulder getting sore. You weren’t really built for hard labor. “After you spent another hundred thousand credits, sure.”
“I wasn’t!” She’d stopped fighting you, now hanging limply so that her entire weight pressed down on you. “I could’ve hacked it-”
“Really? You’d put that much effort into a claw machine?” Before Silver Wolf could argue, your phone dinged, as did Blade’s and Silver Wolf’s - successfully interrupting your bickering. You glanced at Blade as he checked his phone for the three of you.
“It’s Kafka,” he reported, typing out a quick response. “She says it’s time to go back.”
“Tell her we’ll be there in 10 minutes, if Silver stops her tantrum,” you said, looking pointedly at Silver Wolf. The hacker kicked you in response. 
“I am not throwing a tantrum,” she huffed. You rolled your eyes.
“Sure, whatever you say.”
Speaking of which, Blade is like your guard dog. A very intimidating guard dog. With a sword. And attitude issues.
Come to think of it, he's more like a cat if anything.
When he's not being launched at the faces of various enemies, Blade often finds himself acting as your shadow. He just follows you around, doesn't say anything, and the second he smells a whiff of a threat, the sword comes out and you have to talk him down before someone calls the cops.
It seems that you’re the only one unaffected by the suffocating tension clogging up the clothing store. There’s an obvious circle of space surrounding you and Blade as you browse through various suits, intent on finding one that would fit the man standing behind you. Elio’s next script required that Blade and Kafka go to a dinner party, and knowing Blade, the man didn’t have any clothes other than the ones you and the other Hunters got for him.
It wasn’t that Blade didn’t have an eye for fashion, rather, he simply didn’t care much for it. Shopping wasn’t exactly his cup of tea either. His hands itched for action, but he did have to admit that this was better than sulking around in his room all day.
You pulled out another suit that had caught your eye, a simple black one with a bronze lapel. It would fit the vest you’d already picked out for him. Holding it out in front of Blade, you squint as you try to picture what it’d look like on him.
Decent enough. You hummed in satisfaction, turning the suit around to show it to him. “What do you think?”
Blade shrugs, only giving the suit a brief glance. “It’s fine.”
You sigh, giving him a look. “Do you like it?”
“It isn’t the worst thing you’ve put me in,” he says nonchalantly. You huff, lightly hitting his chest. For a second, a glimmer of a smile flickers onto his face at your action.
“Watch your attitude,” you reprimand playfully. “Otherwise I’m giving you the shittiest suit I can find in here.”
“You wouldn’t,” Blade says easily as the two of you walk toward the cash registers. “Your heart couldn’t bear to do that to a face like mine.”
“Cheeky brat.”
You remember the day Blade was first brought to the base, picked up by Kafka and Elio like a stray cat. He had a strange resemblance to that of a drowned rat, being absolutely sopping wet.
Your seniors just kinda dropped him off into your room with the only instructions being "Make him look presentable", which didn't give you a lot to work with. You weren't sure how you were going to fix him, but after a lot of bathing, hair drying, and brushing, you soon discovered that the drowned rat had a pretty face.
So basically, you're the only reason why he looks remotely presentable.
And quite frankly, Blade does not make it easier on you. He doesn't care about how he looks, only how his enemies look - and that's dead and unmoving. Sir somehow manages to fuck up his fit every time he goes on mission, coming back with his very expensive clothes, mind you, covered in blood, and his hair messed up.
The audacity of him, to just walk into your room unannounced, clothes completely torn and hair a mess, and plop himself down on your perfectly clean chair and wait for you to fix him up. Granted, you'll do it (you wouldn't allow any of your comrades to leave without a decent haircut), but that doesn't mean you won't rattle his ear off with a scolding.
“Just what did you do to it this time?”
You grumbled as you cut away at Blade’s hair, the man in question sitting in your salon chair and scrolling through his phone. He had just come back from a mission, and this time he somehow managed to cut off the bottom half of his long locks, resulting in a horrendously uneven cut.
“You’re literally so photogenic and then you go and do this?” you huffed, blowing his hair into his face with a blowdryer.
“You can fix it, can’t you?” Blade didn’t even look up from his screen as he texted Silver Wolf, likely using this as an excuse to escape her pleas to game with her.
You scowl, venting your anger as you brushed his hair, cutting a few extra strands. “Just because I can, doesn’t mean I always have the time to do so! Now sit still.”
Oh, and another thing? There's no such thing as privacy when you're with the Stellaron Hunters.
You first learned this when you came back from a particularly grueling mission, early on in your career with the Hunters. You were covered in blood that wasn't (or was it?) yours, drenched from the rain and safe to say, not in the greatest of moods. All you wanted was to take a shower, and preferably, take an undisturbed nap on your warm bed.
Unfortunately, Kafka had other plans.
You opened the door to find her lounging on YOUR bed, IN THE DARK, ruffling through your makeup collection like it was normal. She didn't even seem bothered when you flicked on the light, didn't even acknowledge you until you threw a knife at her.
And what did she say when you made it abundantly clear that she shouldn't be in here? Nothing. She just scrunched up her nose and told you to take a shower.
And that is how you learned that having your own room is utterly useless because every single Hunter could pick a lock. You could try to use an electric one. Silver Wolf sure did. And to her credit, it worked, until a certain dog named Blade came around and just kicked the door down.
Out of all the Stellaron Hunters to creep around in your room, Sam was by far the worse. You could handle Kafka going through your makeup, or Blade judging your taste in books. You can deal with Elio having his fucking shoes on your bed because he's your boss and honestly what are you going to do against an actual seer? Exactly. Nothing. At least his shoes are usually clean.
But Sam? He doesn't visit so that he can go through your things, or just hang around. No. He comes around with the pure intention of scaring the shit out of you.
He just waits?? Outside your door?? In the dark?? Until you open it and he jumps you. It usually ends with someone getting punched, but honestly, it's nothing either of you couldn't handle.
Silver Wolf likes to pretend that she isn't as bad as the other because in her words, she "gives you a warning". Said warning is "You better be decent" before she barges in and starts rambling about the new game she bought.
One time you were not decent and someone had to pay the price. That someone was not you.
There is one good thing that comes out of all this invasion of privacy. Because whatever the others do to you, you get to do right back to them. 
“What does this button do?”
“Don’t touch that.” Kafka playfully whined as Silver Wolf snatched away the console in her hands. The hacker was less than pleased, having returned to her room only to discover that she’d been chosen as the Hunters’ victim for today.
You lean against Kafka’s shoulder, pouting alongside her at your latest toy being confiscated. “C’mon Silver, let us have some fun at least.”
“After you two invaded my room? Not a chance,” she replied, tossing the console to somewhere you and Kafka couldn’t reach. Kafka merely hummed at the loss, leaning back onto Silver Wolf’s messy bed.
“You know, you should really clean up around here,” she commented. “They nearly killed themselves tripping over a stack of DVDs.”
“Agreed, although I wouldn’t mention that last part,” you said, picking up another one of Silver Wolf’s consoles. This one had a fighting game on it. Silver Wolf rolled her eyes as you quickly busied yourself with fighting the boss she had left off on.
“If you don’t want to get hurt, then don’t come in,” she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. Kafka smiled.
“Sure, but where’s the fun in that?” she asked, watching you tap away at the screen. “It was just a suggestion, no need to get all worked up.”
“I’m not, but okay.” Silver Wolf hissed as your character took damage. “If you get my character killed-”
“I won’t,” you retorted, swiftly defeating the boss. You tossed Silver Wolf the console. “See?”
“You’re half dead,” Silver Wolf deadpanned.
“Doesn't matter. I still won.”
Your group chat is an absolute mess, with no one understanding Silver Wolf's slang or dialect. Blade's outdated brain short-circuited the first time he touched a phone, while Kafka just silently accepted her fate. You often have to translate because Silver Wolf sure wasn't going to.
Gambling Addict: Ykw blade
Gambling Addict: This is why u pull no bitches
Gambling Addict: Bc if [name] didnt yassify u 
Gambling Addict: U would have zero rizz
Gambling Addict: Negative rizz actually
You: I see no lie here
Gambling Addict: So stfu about my social life at least i can pull bitches
DONT PICK UP: [Name], translate
Gambling Addict: [Name] i have ur closet at gunpoint 
You: She means Blade can't attract maidens bc he has as much charisma as a blobfish
You: Also stfu silver I know you can't shoot for shit
Gambling Addict: [NAME]
Gambling Addict: Actually no, ur right
DONT PICK UP: Oh, I see
You: I'm always right 💅✨
DONT PICK UP: That does sound like Bladie
Gambling Addict: Listen
Gambling Addict: All i know is that blades been real quiet since i said that
Blade: Silver Wolf.
Gambling Addict: And so he speaks!
Blade: Count your days.
You like to fuck with the others by pretending to be them. Blade nearly murdered you because one time you got bored, and decided that slandering his nonexistent image would be ample entertainment.
In minutes, you turned yourself into Blade's lookalike, and spent the afternoon prancing around in a maid dress because what else were you going to use it for? Unfortunately, that also put you as a target for Blade's wrath. Fortunately, you have a lot of experience escaping people you pissed off.
Silver Wolf still has the pictures. Kafka laughed her ass off until you did the exact same thing to her. And that's when she started shooting.
"I can't believe you did this," you sniffed dramatically, fake tears falling from your face. In your hands was what used to be your pride and joy, the beautiful maid dress that you'd spent millions on (lie).
What used to be a gorgeous garment with frills and lace, was now in tatters from Kafka's bullets and Blade's sword. The two aforementioned culprits weren't the slightest bit guilty as they watched you lament over your clothes.
"You should've thought of that before you started walking around like that," Kafka blew at her smoking gun. Blade nodded firmly in agreement, holding his sword close to his chest.
"It was cute!" you huffed, shaking your head. You weren't actually mad at them. You could always buy another dress to mess with them. Besides, you already got what you wanted.
Your gaze met with Silver Wolf's, who grinned back, holding her phone in between her fingers.
None of the Stellaron Hunters know basic first aid, and that includes you. Most of you just slap on a few bandages, some weird smelling ointment, and call it a day. Silver Wolf doesn't even do that, she just downs three bowls of rice and walks off the broken arm like a Sunday hangover.
But one day, just as your luck would have it, you came back to base with an injury that you couldn't just bandage away. No one knew what to do, and you were bleeding out fast. So what did this hardened group of criminals do?
They googled it. They fucking googled it.
Silver Wolf deadass just searched up how to fix you while you were bleeding out next to her. Kafka, to her credit, did hold your hand to try and comfort you (albeit mockingly), and Blade just stood back and watched. If Elio foresaw a way to help you, well, he didn't say anything.
But it all turned out all right in the end. Eventually, Silver Wolf gave up and simply shoved a bowl of her fried rice in front of you. You still don't know how or why, but it somehow worked. It shouldn't have, but it did.
The scene in front of you reminded you of a bunch of school children watching a chemistry experiment for the first time. The Stellaron Hunters crowded around you, eyes trained onto your closing wound with unnerving fascination. Even Blade, who rarely had any emotion at all, was watching you with the faintest glimmer of awe.
"What the hell did you put in that thing?" you turned in disbelief to Silver Wolf, the only unphased person in the room. The hacker was already somewhere else, her thumbs tapping rapidly as she played another one of her rhythm games.
"Trash."
"WHAT." You almost throttled her before she quickly teleported a safe distance away, clutching her phone to her chest.
"Kidding, kidding, no need to get all worked up!" She sighed, clearing a level without looking.
"Just some solid water and protein rice, that's all."
"You mean ice?" You swatted at Kafka, who was poking at where your wound used to be.
"No."
Safe to say, the Stellaron Hunters are an... interesting bunch, to put it lightly. They're all assholes, including you, and seem to thrive over inconveniencing each other. The only time you all can somewhat work together is when you're acting out one of Elio's scripts.
But you'd be lying if you said you hated working at this job. You live for the thrill of things, and being a Hunter was the most fun you've had in a long, long time, even if your coworkers occasionally annoyed you to death.
None of you would ever say it aloud, but you wouldn't trade each other for anything in the world.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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3 Times Eddie has a Secret + 1 Time Steve Does
I.
Erica Sinclair wants to throw a Valentine's Day party, and woe betide anyone coming between Erica and an idea. Eddie's happy to show up, spend some time with the kids, Robin, and Steve (though he's with the latter pair all the time), and mostly doesn't think much about it. That is until, two weeks out, Max shows up at his trailer with that look on her face, and he knows he's in for it, though he's not sure why.
He gives her a little bow. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Max?"
"You're going to Erica's party, Munson." Her hands go to her hips and her brow pinches. It's such a Steve Harrington pose it knocks something loose in Eddie's chest. "And you aren't going to say one word about conformists and sheep."
He rolls his eyes, sighs hard. "I'm surprised at you, Mayfield. Didn't have you pegged as a candy hearts type of gal."
"It's for Erica." The tip of her sneaker scuffs at the earth. "And Lucas likes it."
Eddie bites his lip to stifle his smile. They're so fucking cute.
"I suppose I can put in an appearance."
"And be on your best behavior?"
"Scout's Honor."
"You weren't a scout," she grumbles.
"Nope. But still. I'll do it for Little Sinclair."
It shouldn't bother him, the assumption that he'd be a shit about Valentine's Day. He's worked really hard to cultivate an image and it doesn't exactly scream "Be Mine." And yes, yeah, sure, the Munson Doctrine doesn't go in for the holiday, and his cynical heart blah-blah-blah. It's just that. Well, he sort of enjoys the love part.
And later that night, in the safety of his dark bedroom, he acknowledges that he wouldn't mind having a date on Valentine's Day. It would be--well, it would be nice to have someone buy him flowers or chocolates, or even--ugh--a gross, sappy, sentimental card. He wants to have reservations at Enzo's, wants to go see a terrible romcom after, wants to go home and fall into bed with the person he loves. And it isn't metal, or even very cool, but he wants to be showered with affection, celebrated, fucking loved.
He wants so much his entire body aches with it.
II.
Eddie's at Family Video, rifling through the candy that he knows Steve just reorganized.
"What are you looking for, Munson?" Robin asks. She's half-engrossed in the paperwork in front of her.
Eddie's half listening, watching Steve re-shelve New Releases. He's focused on the VHSs in his arms, so Eddie has ample opportunity to admire the bunch and stretch of his shoulder muscles as he reaches to the top of the wall.
"I don't know," he nibbles on his lip. "Something that's not so," he wiggles his hand through the air.
"Romantic?" She guesses.
"No," he shakes his head. "I mean--"
"You mean?" She's focused on him now, must have caught him watching Steve, and he hopes she doesn't make it a big deal.
"Something," he says. "Um. Just something different."
And what he means is a movie for a guy like him where love doesn't have to be a distant dream. Where he can have feelings for someone and it isn't potentially dangerous.
So, he smiles and shrugs. Grabs the tape closest to his hand. "Guess I'll just take this."
"Well, this is definitely different, Eddie," she says. She narrows her eyes at him, like he's a new language she's learning, but he scampers out before she can say anything.
The movie he grabbed without looking is Cocoon and he can't even pretend interest, so he's not exactly disappointed when someone knocks at his door a few hours later. He's expecting Max, maybe Steve, but startles a little at Robin. She pushes past him and into the trailer.
"Good to see you too, Buckley."
She ignores him. "I have something to tell you. You and Steve are the only people who know."
"Okay?" His eyes are so wide it kind of hurts.
She takes a deep breath. "I'm gay."
"What?" He shrieks, doesn't know why. He's always kind of known.
Robin responds by swatting at him, and they bat at one another with the tips of their fingers.
"Nancy?" He asks once they calm down.
"Shut-up," Robin flushes a dark red.
"It's the guns right?"
It's her turn to shriek, and she gets a solid punch in on his shoulder. They wrestle around, until Eddie pulls away, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead.
"I'm--" he's never said the words to another person. Uncle Wayne just sort of knew and you don't really have to talk at any of the bars he goes to in Indy. "I'm gay too," he tells Robin.
She beams at him. "Cool."
"Cool." He fiddles with his rings. "Harrington knows about you?"
"He was the first person I told."
"You aren't going to tell him about me?"
She leans her head on his shoulder. "Of course not. But he'd be okay, if you wanted to tell him."
He can't help but scoff. "It's different for lesbians, Buckley. Straight guys can be into that."
She scoffs right back. "Steve isn't like that and you know it."
She's right. He does. But the fear runs deep. Especially especially because it's Steve. And Eddie couldn't handle any of things that might happen if Robin is wrong.
"Thanks, Bucks," he says. He leans his head against hers, hugs her close.
III.
Erica's party is happening at Steve's and Eddie shows up at the appointed time, with the appointed cupcakes (baked from a box, frosted from a can).
The kids are shouting in the living room, but his eyes automatically find Steve in the kitchen. He has a a towel draped over his shoulder, hair disheveled, and is mixing Tropical Punch and Sprite into a serving bowl.
"How'd you end up hosting?" Eddie asks.
Steve smiles, a bashful little thing. "Erica called me this morning and yelled until I agreed."
"Pushover," Eddie teases.
"Oh, and you just made those cupcakes for fun, Munson?"
"Shut-up, Harrington." Eddie knocks their shoulders together. "They're ugly as shit. Didn't know there was an art to frosting cupcakes."
"I think I can help. You mind?"
Steve grabs some plastic spatula looking thing, gets to work with a focused determination that has him biting at his lip. Heat kicks in Eddie's blood, makes it so he can't watch. Instead, he slides a finger into the icing.
"Hey! What--? Munson!" Steve yells, as Eddie brushes the pink frosting onto Steve's cheekbone.
"Got ya!" He dances out of reach.
They bob and weave and dodge through the kitchen, laughing and yelling, until Steve has Eddie pressed against the cabinets, no escape. They're close, breathing hard and pink-faced. He can't help glancing down at the plush softness of Steve's mouth, can't help noticing Steve's eyes track the movement. Time pauses, stutters, and the distance between them closes.
"Steve!" Dustin shouts. "What's taking so long?"
The tension breaks and Eddie escapes into the living room, desperate to convince himself it wasn't a moment, that Steve isn't interested. Wishes his heart was a little more cynical, after all.
The party is fun. There are games and snacks and crafts. He gets roped into playing Mystery Date and tries and fails to not notice Steve bent over, playing Twister, left hand on red, right hand on green.
When they start doing crafts, Steve is hard at work on a Valentine.
"What you making, Stevie?" Eddie asks. He cranes his neck to see.
"Back off, Munson."
"Got someone you've been admiring, big boy?"
Steve goes pink and Eddie can't tell if it's the nickname or his question.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
And since Eddie really, really would, he jumps towards Steve, trying to sneak a peek. Steve laughs, hard and kind of surprised, before hunching over the card.
"None of your business, Eddie." But Steve is flushed and smiling.
Eddie pouts. "You know how much I love knowing things."
Steve looks at him. Like, looks at him, and Eddie goes warm all over.
"Maybe if you're a good boy today, you'll get to know later, yeah?"
Good boy does things. It makes Eddie's heart stop, his breathing slow, re-routes all the blood in his body south. He can only gasp and nod, sure his eyes are weirdly glazed.
Good boy. He's not sure if he hears another word spoken to him for the rest of the day.
IV.
The party draws to a close. For once in their lives, the actual parents are driving their kids around and Robin hitches a ride with the Hopper-Byers, leaving Eddie and Steve on clean-up.
"Wanna stick around, Munson? Watch a movie? Think I have a joint leftover from last week."
"Course, Stevie, how could I say no to such a generous offer."
"I think you're making fun of me, but I don't understand why."
Eddie laughs. "Totally genuine, sweetheart. Cross my heart." Steve smiles at that, his eyes turning the color of honey.
Eddie is so, so fucked.
They get situated on the couch and Steve says, "Have you been good today?"
"Huh?" Eddie can't breathe.
"I said you could see what I was making if you were good today. Were you?"
Eddie can't speak, can't think, can't move. His brain is throbbing. This has to be a dream. No way Steve is actually asking that.
But Steve is looking at him and somehow he has the presence of mind to fucking nod, and then Steve is handing him a red construction paper heart and a rose with petals so purple they're almost black.
He's hallucinating. That's what this is. He got some laced weed and now his wildest fantasy is playing out in his head.
The Valentine has a white lace doily thing glued to it and it says, in glitter:
"Roses are red,
Violets are Blue;
Eddie Munson,
I really like you"
His eyes fall on Steve. He perceives him, the way a pink flush sits high on his cheekbones, the shine in his eyes, the tremble in his hands.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Eddie isn't hallucinating. He's not dreaming. He's--
"Steve," he sounds a wreck.
"It's--Eddie, it's okay if you don't like me back. I just--I've liked you for a while and Robin thought I should tell you, and--"
"Steve," he says again, stands this time. "Can I kiss you?" It's a miracle he gets the words out.
"God, yes, please," Steve nearly whines.
Eddie pulls him in close, slotting their mouths together. Steve tastes like Tropical Punch and frosting and he makes a little noise as Eddie nips at his lip.
And that's it, that's all it takes. Eddie is gone, ruined, Valentine's celebrator until the end of time, lost forever to Steve-goddamn-Harrington.
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Loved By Seven | Chapter 4
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Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU, Mate!AU, romance, fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Human!Reader, Peacock!Seokjin, Serpent!Yoongi, Hawk!Hoseok, White Tiger!Namjoon, Merman!Jimin, Leopard!Taehyung, Wolf!Jungkook
Summary: Hiking was just an activity to get you out of the apartment, the last thing you imagined was ending in a whole different world by touching a jewel. That not being enough you end up meeting seven hybrids, and they all claim you shared the Connection with each of them making you their partner for life.
Notes: Hi! After I posted the third chapter I noticed I have more than 200 followers!!! I truly can't believe it, thank you so much!!! And I decided to write this chapter as fast as I could for a 100 followers celebration, which means the fifth chapter will be a 200 followers celebration along with a one shot from my masterlist. I'm so grateful for the people who keep reading this series and for the new ones who are giving me the opportunity to give them something to read. Likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated. English is not my first language so pardon me if anything is misspelled or grammatically incorrect. Also the main idea came from a webtoon but I can’t remember it’s name. Enjoy!
Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Support me?
Closing the door behind him a very happy leopard stops in front of the elevator to call, once inside he marks the parking lot. Which car should I drive today? Well I'm already late, I should take the smaller one he walks and picks up one of the two pair of keys dangling from his parking space I can't wait to take Beautiful out, just the two of us a boxy smile breaks through with this thought and gets in the car After this shoot I'm gonna pretend to be sick and get back to her quickly.
Thanking to the people who picked up the place for the photoshoot, since it was near the building he lives in, he exists the car and jogs a little bit to meet with his manager, a dog hybrid, waiting for him at the entrance, "Tae, I know you're a really big name in this industry, and thanks to me may I add" Jaehyun says with a silly smile and walking where there was already a lot of people waiting for Taehyung "but you can't be this late to a shoot man" this time is a frown what accompanies his words. "I know hyung, I'm sorry, you know I don't like to waste people's time but something happened yesterday and my phone died so the alarm didn't ring and I had to make breakfast but didn't have groceries so everything was a bit chaotic".
Once they're in front of the crew, Taehyung says out loud "I'm sorry everybody, I didn't mean to be this late" "It's okay, I mean you're THE Kim Taehyung you can be as late as you want" says a young leopard hybrid coming way to closer for his liking, like she almost wanted to touch him, so he takes a step back "I'm sorry Director, it won't happen again" he says bowing at her, which makes the girl blush "Um, Tae, she's no…" Jaehyun stars but gets interrupted "She's not the director Taehyung, it's me, she works with the make-up department" a slighter older fox hybrid walks towards Jaehyun and him "Oh, I'm sorry for being late Sir" he bows again, but this time at the right person "I know you're a big name but it can't happen again while we do this campaign" "It won't I swear" Taehyung says with his anima ears twitching nervously and his human ears red from embarrassment, at this the Director chuckles "It's okay, go get changed and then go to make-up while we set up things to start the shoot" he points at a girl who raises her hand She must be from the costume's department thus Taehyung walks behind her until they get to the dressing room.
"Hi Mr. Kim, I'm Danny and I'll be helping you during this campaign with what you'll be wearing" "Thank you Danny, and you can call me Taehyung, Mr. Kim sounds way to formal for my liking" he smiles gently at her Wow he is even more handsome in person and the rumor of him being a sweetheart are true, thank you universe for already having a partner otherwise I would probably be acting like the girl from make-up "Sure thing Taehyung" she says with red cheeks "These are the clothes you're gonna be wearing for this particular shoot" Danny shows him the main show of the shoot, a pair of underwear, with a pair of jeans and a jacket, both in denim "Okay" the leopard goes behind a curtain to change himself "If you need anything, I'm here" Danny says in a more professional tone "I actually have a question" he says while taking off his shirt "Sure, is anything not your size?" "No, it's not about the clothes or the shoot" "Oh" she says more relaxed "Sure" You're human right? I mean I didn't smell anything particular from you, except a faint smell of giraffe" he rushes his explanation in fear of offending her while almost falling from taking off his pants, she chuckles at this "Yes, I'm human and the scent you're smelling is my partner, it's faint because he's away on business, may I ask why are you asking this?" "It's just that I found my partner and she's also human and I wanted to know how can I court without scaring her, both my parents are hybrids so I don't know if I should do something different" a fondly smile forms on his lips by the mere thought of you "Well" she laughs a little "Andy was very forward, we crossed paths at a coffee shop and as I was exiting he screamed Wait! I think you're my partner to the entire shop and I genuinely thought that wasn't directed to me so I just walked out but he followed me and tapped my shoulder and told me the thing he just screamed was aimed at me, so we sat and started talking. I think everyone in this world knows they're destined to someone therefore you shouldn't be afraid of scaring" she finishes at the same time he pushes the curtain already changed That's the thing, I don't think she knows about the Connection which is so weird but he doesn't let his thoughts reflect on his face, instead he smiles at Danny "Thank you, you were very helpful" "Okay, let me see you" she turns on her job face "Please turn around" she hums looking for something that may stand out in the wrong way "I think you look great, the jacket is not too big, the boxers are up enough to see the brand but your abs can also be seen, and the jeans make your thighs look great, and this denim makes you ears stand out in very nice way. You're ready to go to make-up Taehyung" she smiles at him "Thank you Danny" he waves at her, exiting the dressing room.
"Hi handsome" someone says as soon as he exits, scaring him a little. Turning to look at the person who startled him, he finds the same leopard girl he thought was the director "Hey Taehyung, I was just coming to get you to take you to make-up" Jaehyun approaches but stops when spotting the girl "What are you doing here?" he asks "I'm here to pick him up" "The director told you to wait by your room, thus I'm asking again, what are you doing here?" "I'm just trying to show initiative, that's all" she answers with a fake sweet smile "Let's just go, yeah? We're already behind schedule because of me I don't want to keep delaying everything" Taehyung intervenes. "Yeah, you're right Tae…Lady, please take us to the make-up room" Taehyung puts himself between the wall and Jaehyun, just to be safe from the girl, watching this the girl frowns because she wants to be next to him Especially if he's wearing something so tempting. The three get to the room full of make-up suitcases "Okay, we're already you can leave now" she smirks at Jaehyun "You know make-up artists have to be alone to do the job quickly and without errors" Jaehyun growls a little bit at her but knows he can't do anything because she's right "Tae, call me if you need anything" he looks at the male leopard like saying If this crazy girl throws herself at you call me at which Taehyung only nods, and Jaehyun takes his leave.
"Okay Tae, you can sit here" she purrs the words in an attempt to sound sexy "Please don't call me Tae, only people close to me can call me that" Taehyung says in a deeper and strained tone of voice, one he uses when he's not comfortable or mad, dreading being with her and sitting in front of her "Then we can get closer, don't you think?" she trails one of her fingers up his right arm, trying to reach his exposed chest, however a male hand stops her intention "Look I really don't want to say anything to the director about your inappropriate behavior but if you continue I'm not going to have another choice but to talk to him" at this point his chest was vibrating to let out a growl, but he contained himself. Watching his face she felt a little scared but that didn't deterred her purpose This man is going to be mine, he just doesn't know it yet. I mean, we're both leopards, we obviously belong to each other. I have to be more forward with that in mind she sits in his lap, wrap her arms around his neck and brings her face closer to his, watching how her prey open his eyes wide Oh he looks so cute, and he's gonna be mine "Come on Tae, I know you don't have a partner and look at me, we would be incredible together, you're hot I'm hot, we're both leopards, and I'm just feeling this electricity between us, it's incredible" with each word her voice goes lower and her face closer I can't just toss her, it could hurt her and it would make a mess.
"Lia, what are you doing on top of Taehyung?!" A woman's voice wakes up Taehyung from his shock and stands up, trying not to toss the girl with too much force, and turns to find a familiar face "Mrs. Choi?" "Mom! What are you doing here?!" the girl screams at the woman Is she the daughter of one of the best make-up artists? Taehyung thinks "No, the one who asks questions is me. Now, what were you doing on top of him?" "Mom, we're part-" "She sat on top of me! Started touching me and saying crazy things! And we're definitely not partners, I already have one and she's at home!" it's not his intention to almost scream but that's how it comes out, he wants to be clear with anyone who's listening that he already has a partner, a very beautiful partner What? He has a partner? Well, it doesn't matter he's not marked yet which means anything can happen the other leopard in the room thinks "Oh my God Lia, I told you that if you wanted to come with me you had to behave and why was the door closed, you know that until the senior enters the apprentice can't close the door" Mrs. Choi says "Are you the one who's going to do my make-up?" Taehyung says with a hopeful tone, and he's so relieved even his ears stand up in relaxation "Yes, darling. And I'm so sorry for my daughter" hearing her mother say that Lia crosses her arms in frustration If you hadn't enter mom I could've kissed him "Now let's do your make-up quickly Taehyung, after all this isn't the first time we work together" and it's true for most of his shoots Mrs. Choi has been the one does his make-up so, by now, the know what works the best. After 15 minutes Mrs. Choi is finishing his make-up, she really wanted to finish fast after all her daughter couldn't stop looking at Taehyung and trying to touch at very chance she could get, and the boy's obviously very uncomfortable; "There, all done" she says applying a thin layer of gloss to make his lips stand a little bit, Taehyung looks at himself in the mirror in front of him "Thanks Mrs. Choi, as always your work is impeccable" the woman smiles at him "My pleasure Taehyung, will be seeing each other because of this campaign so we'll see each other soon" Taehyung stands up and exits the room listening to something along the lines of "Let's go home young lady, we need to talk about boundaries at a work place" "But m-".
"Tae, you're finally out" Jaehyun starts asking as soon as he sees Taehyung "What happened? Did that girl do something? You know what? Where's the director, he needs to know this" "Hyung, hyung!" Taehyung almost screams but at least gest Jaehyun's attention "She's Mrs. Choi's daughter, apparently wanted to learn about this world" "Mrs. Choi's daughter? But she's so ahhh" Jaehyun makes angelic noise "and that girl was so oohhh" Jaehyun makes scary noises now, which makes Taehyung laugh out loud. Hearing a deep laugh the director approaches the two young men "Taehyung, did you finish? Are you ready?" "Yes Sir" Taehyung immediately stops laughing and transforms it into a serious face "Okay, please put yourself in front of the camera" the older male chuckles softly at the nervousness of the young leopard.
Modeling comes easy for Taehyung since he was recruited at 16 years old people has praised his good looks and how natural he's in front of a camera, however he started his official career at 20 years old and he's been doing it for 5 years now. It pays the bills and lets him have a certain commodity, and now that he found you he knows he can also provide for you as well. Being in front of the camera makes Taehyung sometimes feel weird or even shy depending on the type of shoot he's doing but once he switches on his modeling talent he can only focus on what pose to next so it can come as natural as possible, something many directors like when working with him is that the leopard almost never need directions he knows which are his best poses, his best faces and most importantly knows how to use his body, which angles show, in this case, the clothes better and how can his animal features add to the mix, play with his tail or hide his ears to show something.
Because of how good he is at his job the shoots ends on time, despite Taehyung being late, and now was time to go home There's no way I'm gonna keep working when it's almost noon and Beautiful doesn't have anything to eat "Hey hyung, I'm not feeling well, I think being with that girl really disturbed me, besides I think I ate something that's bloating me. I think I should go home, tell the other shoots we can double the time when we reschedule or the can pay me less" Jaehyun couldn't say anything because Taehyung starts running to the dressing room "Hi Danny" and changes his clothes in a flash "Bye Danny", the leopard runs again and encounter the Director "Great job Director, thank you for everything, have a nice day, I look forward to the next shoot I swear I'll be on time" he bows and runs again towards his car not even paying attention to the "Taehyung's" Jaehyun is screaming.
Once inside his car he makes a plan First I need to buy her a phone, hers is obviously so old it doesn't work anymore, I have to buy one for Jiwoo too because I know how important she's to Beautiful. Second, the both need clothes just a few and the we can go together to buy more. Finally, groceries for the three of us. Parking at the mall, Taehyung goes straight to a store where he can buy the phones, for his Beautiful he buys the same one he has but pink because he saw that many of her things had that color It suits her that color he smiles at the thought, and for Jiwoo he buys same model but white. Outside of the store he looks at the watch on his wrist Damn it, there's not a lot of time adding something more to the list he goes to the food court and approaches to a Italian restaurant and orders 3 lasagnas to take, and while they're making them Taehyung goes to a store for clothes as soon as he sees a clerk similar to your body type he asks her to pick six shirts, two pair of jeans, and 4 pair of shorts It's getting hotter these days with summer approaching, he pays and goes to another store for the underwear where he basically does the same but this time with a very red face and animal ears glued to his head from embarrassment, in this store he pays even faster. He has to accept he must look like a mad man running from one place to another with a lot of bags; he gets to the restaurant and picks up what is gonna be lunch. Running again he sees his car closer and closer, he puts the lasagnas in the front seat and the rest of the bags on the back seat, once inside he takes route to the nearest supermarket around his building.
Getting off the car after parking, he takes a supermarket cart an starts going through the aisles to pick up and put inside the cart the food of his choice I just hope they like what I'm choosing, but I can always bring them with me if she wishes something else. With the supermarket already seen he approaches the cashier and pays and pack everything as fast  as he can, looking at his watch once more he notices it's noon Okay I'm close just have to hurry up a little bit he tries to run with difficulty from the heavy grocery bags. This time he puts the bags on the trunk and gets up inside to start driving to the destination he wants to arrive the most Home.
Finally seeing his building he presses the gas a little bit more, once inside the parking lot, he parks next to his other car and takes out all of the boxes that despite being heavy he can carry all of them thanks to the gym and his leopard genes. He walks towards the elevator and calls it, it doesn't take long and it opens its door and he walks inside. Marking the 10th floor, he's almost buzzing with excitement, his tail is wiggling behind him in a happy manner. The elevator chimes and announces it arrived at its destination opening its doors. The leopard exists and runs for his apartment, in front of the door he opens it Finally. "I'm home"
Chapter 5
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Propaganda:
For Orufrey: "They're tragic wlw who have devoted their lives to each other since they were kids. They live together, they cook together, they're raising four girls together and they're doing the best they can. Olruggio would do anything for Qifrey if Qifrey would just Let Him 😭 but Qifrey is dead-set on protecting Olruggio and keeping him safe and in the dark no matter what it costs... i cant 😭..."
"Man I don't know they just have the vibes. They have toxic yuri energy but they are two grown men. They've known each other since their apprentice days and have stuck together ever since. Qifrey's main magic type was something he took up because Olruggio proposed that he learned to control the water he feared. They live together away from most of society with Qifrey's four apprentices, living the sapphic cottagecore (ateliercore???) dream. Qifrey, due to the fact that his eyesight is very much failing, something which is very problematic when it comes to witches, who need their eyesight more than most, is getting very desperate to get all he lost to the Brimhats, the witches who took one of his eyes and his memories, and Olruggio ends up noticing this pursuit and is implied to have done this more than once. Qifrey does not want Olruggio to know about both his failing eyesight and his goals, so he ends up completely wiping Olruggio's memory of those things, and laments that Olruggio is a kind person, and one who would most likely forgive him again, but also one who would try to save him, even when he didn't want to be saved. He also apologized right up until the moment Olruggio's memories of his secret were gone. In general I think chapter 40 is the somewhat toxic guy yuri chapter ever. I'm very tired so I do not know how to explain any of this, I just thought "wow Orufrey reminds me of this one poll I saw on Tumblr" and then spent three days straight hunting for your blog before completely forgetting my reasoning for Orufrey being yuri right before I submitted this."
For Joongdok: "Well first of all Yoo Joonghyuk has a whole arc that is transfem coded as hell (has a power/technique that can technically only be used by women but somehow he can also use it, for a time he even turns into a woman to wield it and it's. Actually just let me get the quote "The ines of the face had changed but it was clearly Yoo Joonghyuk. No, it was even more than before.") that just kinda happens,, and doesn't get brought up again but anyway. Second of all just look at them. You see the vision. Also a bonus observation is that these two often get shipped in a poly ship with Han Sooyoung and whenever I see people make a "regular couple, yaoi couple, yuri couple, I see no difference love is love" meme with them the combination of which pair among these three is which of the categories is always different"
Note: This submission also mentions Han Sooyoung, but I decided to count this polyship submission as guy yuri as well.
"They love each other, they pretend they don't care for each other but all their actions prove they care too much, if you remove someone from the trio then the resulting duo is extremely dysfunctional, as evidenced by more than a million words of canon. Is it technically guy yuri? Well, Han Sooyoung is a woman, but in a way she's one of the guys. Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk are men, but the text heavily hints that Yoo Joonghyuk is a trans woman who's just too busy and stressed out to transition yet, and Kim Dokja has just never thought about his own gender a single day in his life. They made the world for each other, they went back in time countless times and waged countless wars for each other, they wrote and read and lived a story, their story, for each other and that's what saved them all. The way Han Sooyoung writes Yoo Joonghyuk's story to save Kim Dokja and loses herself in the process, the way Yoo Joonghyuk voluntarily lives the story to the point of losing himself too and even forgetting why he originally decided to do it, the way Kim Dokja read Han Sooyoung's story which was Yoo Joonghyuk's life and that's how he found himself, they all took so much from each other and gave so much of themselves to each other, this is all very yuri."
"they're so yuri you have no idea. they have every staple of a yuri ship. unwavering devotion. waiting dozens or thousands of years for each other. dooming themselves and the world for each other. so much yearning. i also see them genderbent a lot (including inn canon in the case of yjh) and they're right both of these people are women. i genuinely can't even see them strictly as men at this point they're just yjh and kdj and they are yuri do you understand."
"they're so yuri. the abscense of yuri is the presence of yuri etc etc. these two guys are all ABOUT abscenses. also one of them is a part time woman. the other guy is a guy but like in the same way a square is a rectangle. anyway they're so guyyuri to me. bonus points also because they have a mutual girlfriend and when she's present they're girlyaoi but that's not relevant to this specifically"
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welcometothejianghu · 9 months
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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 괴물/Beyond Evil.
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Beyond Evil is a 2021 Korean drama about two cops that solve a small-town murder that one of them might have committed. Also there's more than one murder to be solved. Also more than one of those murders happened twenty years ago. Also, the cop might have gotten away with at least one of those too.
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It got sold to me on the strength of the main pairing, which is absolutely captivating and worth the price of admission. But the entire cast is amazing, the story is great, and it's all just so satisfying. I love everyone in this weird small Korean town. I love having emotions and various Korean foods with them.
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I got five reasons why you should watch it! Read 'em!
1. Do You Want To See An Old Man Cry?
In fact, do you want to see every man cry? Do you want to see every man in the cast either cry or pretend to cry or be on the verge of tears at least once? Do you want to see the main characters, who are both men, cry multiple times, often while otherwise wet as well?
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Well, buddy, Beyond Evil has got you covered.
2. Absolute Nightmare/Absolute Nightmare
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I do not consider it a spoiler to tell you that Han Juwon (the younger one, on the right) is a very mentally unstable superboy. You already know everyone thinks Lee Dongsik (the older one, on the left) is psycho -- it's nearly the first thing you learn about him. But when you're introduced to Han Juwon, you're given the impression that maybe he's just cold, self-possessed, and competent.
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No. He is an absolute freak. This is a freak4freak relationship. They are both completely unhinged. They have both been traumatized to nigh-unimaginable degrees, and they have each decided to make it the other's problem. Fortunately (or unfortunately) for both of them, they both get off on that real hard, and they get real mad sometimes about how hard they're getting off on it. It's delicious.
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And yet what makes it great is how they're different flavors of freak. They've got the age difference (40 and 27). They've got the height difference (even though the actors are only like 1cm apart, the whole thing is somehow shot like there's a bigger gap). They've got the class difference (small town weirdo and cop royalty). One's a messy bitch, and one's a prissy prince. One has a whole network of people who affectionately endure him, and one has exactly 0.73 friends. One wants to take care of everyone else but not himself, and one has never looked out for anyone else a day in his life. One's a smug little shit, and one's ... also a smug little shit, but differently.
You have perhaps been given the impression that Beyond Evil is like Hannibal, and that Juwon/Dongsik is like Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter. It's not, and yet it scratches a similar itch, if that makes sense.
Don't let me give you the impression that this is textually gay. They do not smooch or anything, so don't be waiting for that. But holy cow, is it homoromantic -- and the leads know it is, and they roll around in it, and everyone else in the production supports their doing it. They have the kind of chemistry stars are jealous of. (It helps that the younger actor is a muffin who has a such crush on the older one.)
And that's even before the part where they get married live on national television. Is that a joke? You'll have to watch to find out.
3. Lee Changjin (and the other antagonists)
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I'll talk in a second about excellent and despicable all the bad guys are. But I need a special moment for this motherfucker right here.
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Lee Changjin is a wretched, scummy piece of shit who damn near walks away with every scene he's in. He's not the worst like a little meow meow -- he is the actual worst, and it's so good. He's sleazy. He's pathetic. He's hot as fuck. You meet his ex-wife, and you're like, no, honey, sure it was a bad decision, but I totally get it.
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Clearly he has a special place in my heart, but all the bad guys in this series are done so damn well. Their realism makes them even scarier. They're not incomprehensible ghouls out there being bad just to be bad. They're (mostly) making calculated decisions based on keeping their own heads above water, and to hell with everyone else.
I'm not going to spoil the identity of the murderer for you -- but it kind of doesn't matter, because you find out who it is less than halfway through the show (and because there are multiple people in this show who've killed someone). There's something bigger and more awful at work here, perpetrated by people that you knew were bad news from the moment you met them.
Beyond Evil is a cop show that is not copaganda, because one of the biggest villains in the series is misuse of police power. The show stresses accountability for police misconduct -- to the point where that accountability hurts characters we want to see get away with stuff because, come on, their bad behavior was totally justified! But it wasn't! The ends do not justify the means here. The world is not better when powerful people use their power to get out of the consequences of their shitty, selfish actions, even when those shitty, selfish actions were objectively kind of cool.
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Fair warning, a lot of this show is about complicated relationships with abusive, absent, deceased, and otherwise difficult parents. Those parents are not always (or even mostly) the bad guys -- but the bad guys are all shitty parents. And yet, their adult children are tied to them in complicated ways that do said children no favors. Some of the most heartbreaking pieces of the show are about how these kids break free from those parents -- or, more tragically, don't.
4. Just plain good television
This is a series that can be handled by Your Average American Television Enjoyer Who Can Handle Subtitles. Its quality is on par with a lot of well-thought-of English-language shows I've seen. It's a tight, well-plotted story that's clear enough to be easy to follow, which is sometimes a high bar for a multi-tendriled murder mystery. The small-town setting even gives it a good source of levity to break up the otherwise tight tension.
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It's only sixteen episodes long, but there are enough reveals to make a rewatch more than worth your while. The first half in particular improves exponentially on the second viewing, because once you have all the information, events and decisions that you initially read one way, you can see meant something else entirely.
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I was initially going to say that if this were in English, all those fans of things like the Wire and True Detective would be super-horny for it -- except that's not true, is it? No, shows like that (which I have seen, for the record) glorify cops who can't be held down by your damn system, so they have to say screw the rules to get things done, because they're too cool and manly for things like paperwork! While Beyond Evil acknowledges that there are some places where the Korean law system is janky and might let a guilty person go free, but that doesn't mean cops get to do whatever they want about it.
My declaration of the show's quality isn't just me judging by my own tastes. This show won the Korean equivalent of Emmys for Best Drama, Best Screenplay, and a well-deserved Best Actor for Shin Hakyun, who plays that incredibly handsome horrible old man. This is a show that actual people who hand out actual awards for good television thought deserved awards.
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So I guess if you always wanted to get into those shows a certain kind of dude can't stop talking about, but you had reservations about how authoritarian/libertarian/misogynistic/homophobic/boring they are, Beyond Evil is here for you!
5. Written and directed by women
This one I think is important as hell, because this is a Dead Girl Show (i.e., a show where men kill multiple women as a major part of the plot), and I know a lot of people are justifiably wary about those. However, there are no hints of sexual assault. The violence is gendered, but it's not sexualized. The murders and postmortem mutiliations are handled with the appropriate horror, but it's not torture porn. And the dead girls are treated like -- and grieved like -- actual humans who matter.
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I think a whole lot of this can be chalked up to the fact that both the writer and the director of Beyond Evil are women.
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In fact, not only are they both women, they're women who don't do this kind of story all the time. Shim Nayeon has directed five things, four of which are comedy/slice-of-life series. Kim Sujin has written a few dramas about mystery-solving teams, but even more comedy and adaptations of webtoons. I have no idea how the two of them got put on this drama together, but it was a perfect match.
This is not to say that men would be incapable of pulling off a story like this. It is, however, a commentary on violence, and how different it looks if you've grown up seeing yourself everywhere as its object rather than its subject. Sure, you could just flip the script and make a story about a lady punchkicker! A lot of people have, and I've enjoyed many of them! But you could also choose to tell a story about gendered violence in a way that isn't just needlessly retraumatizing the people who have to live their entire lives under its shadow. Moreover, you could tell a story about how even good-guy cops can wind up unintentionally buying into paradigms where some women are valuable and some are disposible.
...And if it winds up being teensy bit of a fantasy story about a world in which so many cops give a shit about this violence, well, that's what fiction is for, right?
In short, you love a team of powerful ladies power-drunk on an Arnold Palmer of Respect Women Juice and Sad Man Tears.
Bonus: BANGER SOUNDTRACK
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Oh, it's so, so good. (Spotify link)
Have I convinced you to watch it yet?
It's on Netflix, which may be easiest for most people! However, it's also on Viki, and I much prefer the subtitles over there, because a) they keep the flavor of the Korean terms of address, and b) they actually translate the damn episode titles (wtf Netflix?).
There's no bad way to watch it, though!
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(ack, they're so cute~)
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hazzybat · 3 months
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Non-exhaustive list of Actually helpful ADHD cleaning tips from somone with ADHD who has gone many months without cleaning at all before and is figuring out what works for them
- VACUUM EARLY. The usual cleaning rule is to vacuum last but that won't work for us. Get everything off the floor then vacuum while you still have motivation and you aren't tired yet. It'll feel nicer to walk around, it will get a lot of dust and dirt (so you're in a cleaner space) and if you get burnt out/distracted half way through then at least that big thing is done
If you have energy once everything is put away then vacuum again to get the dirt you missed.
- Take meds. If you have meds take them. They help. Even if you think they don't, even if you hate some side effects take them so you can have a nice house
- Music or a podcast. You have to play something to keep yourself occupied. TV will make you want to watch but audio will let you do other things
- Set the bar low. Only say you'll clean one room. Or you'll just put away clothes. Or you'll just change your sheets. Give yourself victories so you want to keep going. And then if you don't do more then hey! You did what you set out to do!
- Throw out things. I know hording tendencies are hard and if you are a crafter you want to keep every little scrap of junk but it'll help if you throw things out.
If you feel you have to keep that piece of cardboard ir plastic then get a zip lock bag and put all your little craft bits in it. You can keep it but if you use nothing from it then you can throw out the whole bag after a week or a month.
- Put on a cute apron/ tie your hair up/ pretend you are a 50s housewife. You have to make it interesting for yourself so play dress up! It'll help it be fun and it's like a work uniform. It'll help to tell your brain that now you're in "cleaning mode". And a fun apron will help protect you from any dirt which is extra good. Hell wear a pair of high heels and tiny booty shorts just to wear something different.
- Along those lines of making it fun/different pretend you are on a cleaning show! Pretend you're making a YouTube video about how to clean/look at this amazing transformation! I love videos of people with my level of depression or adhd actually clean and feel better. It makes me feel less alone so sometimes I pretend I'm also making a video for everyone else who struggles.
- If your house smells bad light a candle or incense or have room spray. You need to be able to clean up the bad smells so you have to be in the room with the bad smells. Make them less bad so you can get rid of them
.
- Wear gloves even if you aren't doing dishes.
- It's okay to do one room at a time. It's okay to do only bits of the room. It's okay to put away half your clothes then clean the desk them put away the other half of the clothes. You don't have to do everything in order
- Bring a big garbage bag with you everywhere so you can easily put everything there instead of filling up the bin in each room.
- Also bring a laundry basket with you. Anything that need to go in another room put it in the basket so you can stay in the room you're cleaning and not get distracted, then take it with you when you leave
- If you have a blorbo pretend they're helping you. They're encouraging you from where they're leaning against a wall or they're gonna come over after so you want your house to be nice for them. It can help you feel like there's a point to it all.
- You aren't a failure. You have a brain that works differently and it needs help to work best.
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tanith-rhea · 1 year
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hii, I love your writing! I was wondering if you could do some fake dating for either Larissa, Miranda or Lucifer and female reader? :D You know the one where for some reason they decide it's good to pretend they're dating, but oh nooo they accidentally fall in love for real? 😱😏
Only Pretending
Hey, anon! Thank you so much for the request! I'm afraid it turned out bigger than I expected, I don't know what you envisioned but this will definitely be a multiple chapter one... Sorry!!!
Word count: 3k
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"That's all for today, guys. I won't give you homework, so enjoy the break and prepare for the quiz when we get back. Remember, the winning team gets a homework-free week!" you waved the excited teenagers out of class. It was the last period of the day and autumn break was officially started. Many wished you good rest and some a fun Halloween, but there were always the ones who bolted right after you said they could.
However, some stayed behind, too entertained gossiping to pay attention at the hour or — which was the apparent case — complaining about their mother coming to get them for "Family Halloween Traditions". Wednesday and Enid were still sitting at their shared desk, Enid trying to convince her roommate that "it" could be fun if she let herself enjoy the festive spirit and Wednesday complaining she would only have fun when Enid arrived.
You thought they were the cutest pair. So different and at the same time sparking out the most unexpectedly similar sides of each other; Wednesday encouraged Enid's feistier side through bickering and teasing and Enid made Wednesday smile begrudgingly with her cuteness.
"I think it'll be less horrendous than it's been before at least," Wednesday conceded, "Some different faces of people I actually don't loathe being around."
"Exactly, honey bun!" Enid chirped, getting up from their class and offering her arm for Wednesday to take, "I'll arrive early to rescue you from your mom and I'm sure Principal Weems will bicker with her enough to make you smile."
Wait, Larissa would visit the Addams? For Halloween? You could swear she barely tolerated Wednesday's mother from what you've heard of their history at Nevermore. Morticia seemed all right to you and according to other teachers and old acquaintances, quite fun to be around, but the poorly concealed disdain that overtook your boss' face every time the woman was mentioned fostered a small uneasiness and dislike to grow on you towards Wednesday's (un)beloved mother.
"Hello, girls!" you approached the pair with the pile of essays you had to grade and everything you needed to not return to class for the entire week in your hands, "Everything all right? Do you have any questions?"
"No, Professor! No worries," Enid hushes to say, and Wednesday got up as well, linking her arm to Enid's, "We were just about to go. Happy Halloween!"
You were about to wish them happy Halloween as well when Wednesday cut in, "Do you have plans for Halloween, professor?"
Curious of her to ask. You liked to think you had a good teacher-student relationship, but the girl rarely seemed to care for pleasantries or chit-chat for that matter.
"Actually, I'll just stay at the academy and rest a bit. I love teaching you guys but if dealing with ordinary teenagers is already taxing, teaching extraordinary ones is a whole other level." It was true, the amount of trouble your last students could get into was only exponentiated when added to the supernatural abilities students at Nevermore possessed. It was also much more entertaining. Yes, you had to keep them safe and punish troublemakers accordingly, but you loved the thrill to discover just what mischief they had got up to again. The best one so far was when a vampire kid turned into a mist to sneak out at night and changed into their solid state while floating atop the lake.
“Mother is hosting a Halloween party. I believe she’ll only pester Principal Weems to go but you are invited,” she said in her trademark monotone. Why you didn’t entirely know.
“I think that would be a matter for your mother to decide, dear. Although I am honoured you’d like my presence, I don’t think I can simply show unexpectedly.”
“The more sane, competent women there the direr it will be for mother, I only figured you could help me avenge the inconvenience of her smothering motherly love.”
Wednesday was quite the interesting girl. You thought it did make sense she’d want some friends around to endure the celebration, and while you understood and quite shared her respect and admiration for the principal, you were touched to find she regarded you similarly.
“If I cross paths with your mother, I’ll be sure to ask her, can we leave it at that?” at the youngling’s curt nod, you saw the pair leave the room and followed behind, closing the door when you left.
You took three or four steps before listening to the click of very well-known heels. Your shoulders sank and you quickly prayed to any god that might be listening for patience.
“Hello, there, beautiful lady!” Razvan, the vampire transformation teacher stalked at you to accompany your steps.
“Good evening, teacher,” your voice was calculatedly calm. You learned your lesson on being nice to overly adorable and excitable kittens as well as their human-like form.
“I was hoping to catch you alone to ask about that coffee date I suggested last week,” he was smiling like a child on Christmas morning, waiting to open their presents, “You said you were too busy planning the homework you’d give the students for the break but now we’re all free.”
It was cute how he seemed to like you, but he just wasn’t your type. When you saw the tiny black cat at the quad a few months back you thought it was only that, a cat, which you petted and played with and fed because its appreciative meows were cute. When it turned out to be the very not-cat, very impressionable vampire transformation teacher, you wanted to smash your head into the nearest flat surface, so what if it was a stone wall?
“You see… I haven’t got around to grading their essays yet, so I’ll be busy these first few days. Maybe later this week? I’ll see if I can make time and get back to you, ok?” it was really difficult to just say no. You weren’t the most proficient at negating people even in normal circumstances; the fact that he was so clearly infatuated with you made saying no seem like kicking a puppy.
“Oh… that’s fine… I guess. What about tomorrow? Right after lunch? You can check your agenda tonight and I’ll look for you for the verdict!” with that he puffed into a bat and flew down the corridor like a drunk butterfly. Was he making little loops? You had to end this and soon, it was too cruel to keep it up and even if it’d hurt him, it was best than leading him on.
Later that day, you and Vlad sat together eating dinner. He was telling you about an interesting countermove a second year made to get a point on their opponent and you were only half-listening and humming when you thought it appropriate.
Larissa was at the other end of the table, rather uncharacteristically talking to no one and wearing a tight face as if her food tasted like lemons and green limes squished together.
“Something on your mind?” Vlad inquired, following your gaze to the headmistress, “Oh, wow, someone’s not looking forward to rest and relaxation.”
“Hm?” you looked at him and noticed he was also studying Larissa’s sour complexion “Ah, yes. She does seems really angry, doesn’t she? If I hadn’t seen it before I would almost say she’s pissed.”
“That is because she is.” He explained, taking a sip of blood before continuing, “Morticia Addams visited earlier, and by what I hear she quite smugly questioned if Larissa would ‘finally’ bring a plus one to the Halloween Ball they host every year.”
Oh, so that was it. You’d seen Morticia’s verbal sparring with the principal before; you attributed it to their past roommate status and the complications that may arise with sharing a bedroom for three years. You had also seen the bickering and teasing on parents’ weekend, the elongated looks in yearly student reviews and all the times Wednesday’s parents had to be called in because their daughter got herself into trouble.
You knew the story of Larissa’s fancy for Gomez when they were young, but you didn’t think Morticia would still be gloating twenty years later that she got the cake.
“And is she?” you asked, looking back at her, something in your chest making you feel cold all of a sudden.
“What?”
“Is she bringing a plus one to the ball?”
Vlad examined you with those piercing dead eyes of his, knowing all too well why you asked, but respecting your wishes not to mention it.
“I don’t know. Haven’t heard anything yet. The closest person she had recently turned out to be a fanatic serial killer who tried to murder her.”
“Laurel, right? The one before me?” you were the second attempt at a normie teacher in Nevermore. You liked to think you were doing well, but few things could be worse than trying to destroy the school and everyone in it, so you couldn’t be always sure.
Vlad only nodded and went back to his drink while you lingered on Larissa’s face, then her hands, barely moving to pick at something on her plate.
The first day of break came as a welcomed cup of hot chocolate on a winter morning. It was chilly outside; some yellowed and orange leaves were stuck on your window with the early humidity. The corridor outside was so silent it felt almost eerie and gut-clenching. But you knew it could only mean one thing: freedom. Freedom from classes and teenager angst, freedom from having to get up and face the world. You could just get back to sleep if you so wished and boy that was quite something.
But you didn’t. In truth, the fact you knew most teachers would do exactly that, spurt you on to get out of bed and enjoy the entire campus at your disposal.
The kitchen was first. You made coffee with just this side of too much cream and stole waffles someone had made and left at the table. Then you went to the library and spent some hours in the lounge, readying cheesy romance and enjoying the sunlight coming through the big arched windows.
It was bliss, although short-lived. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small black cat silently but confidently making its way to you. The man shifted with a practised puff, almost like a magician popping into the stage from a cloud of smoke.
“Good morning, professor. I see you decided to venture around the school instead of having extra hours of beauty sleep. Not that you would need, of course,” he shifted excitedly beside you. You couldn’t mask the regretfulness on your face upon looking at him, and he realized it, mistaking your meaning and quickly adding, “Don’t worry! I’m not here to talk about our date. I said after lunch, and I’ll stand by my word. I just wanted to pop in and say good morning.”
“Oh... No problem Razvan, I’ll have my response by then, and good morning to you too. Have you been enjoying the time off so far?”
He seemed to brighten at your question, and although you were happy you could converse on something else than the blessed date, you were also fretful he would think too much of it.
In the end, he had something to do in Jericho and had to leave just a few minutes later, which you were grateful for. He was perfectly pleasant and even fun to be around but his lovesick eyes made your head pound in second-hand embarrassment.
At lunch, you and Vlad got together again at the gazebo in the woods. He slept through the morning, enjoying having the excuse to shift back onto his nightly routines, but not willing to fully shift or else he’d suffer to go back when classes started again.
“You will not believe what I’ve agreed to yesterday,” he told you in a voice that very much spelt migraine alert.
“Oh, Vladdy, break just started and you’ve already got yourself in trouble?” you teased, biting on your sandwich.
“I’ve got myself in trouble?” he asked, in an undignified tone “I’ll have you know that the person that got me ‘into trouble’ is your beloved Larissa Weems!” he pointed at your chest with an arched brow.
You looked around for anyone that might have heard him, no one was there.
“Hey, Vlad you know you can’t say that! What if someone tells her? I’d be out the door in no time, you know she’s especially strict with me!”
He just tsked and shook his head, “You are such an oblivious young girl, she couldn’t care less about you breaking rules. Besides, fancying your boss is not against any and Larissa’s just looking out for you because the parents pressure her into being careful after what happened.”
You knew Vlad had good intentions telling you this, but he wasn’t called every week, sometimes two times per week, to justify a comment or action some student or staff thought deserved attention.
Of course, she was always patient and never inquired too deeply into every situation but her cold demeanour told you everything you needed to know: she didn’t like you either, she just needed someone to show off when outreach between normies and outcasts was mentioned and you happened to be an overqualified and very capable chemist.
“But anyway, this is about me,” he continued, “and what I’ve agreed to is to pretend to be Larissa’s boyfriend at the Addams' Halloween Party.”
You were sure your jaw was on the floor. How had that happened? You knew Vlad and Larissa were friends for quite some time and very close for that matter, but pretending to date was just... another thing entirely.
“How are you going to do that?” you packed the rest of your sandwich, suddenly not hungry anymore, “Won’t they know you aren’t an item? I mean you know Morticia, and she knows you’re very good friends... To just start dating out of nowhere isn’t a bit suspicious?”
“She just really needs to give it to Morticia,” Vlad shrugs, a sorry half-smile in his mouth, “She asked me to her office yesterday night to drink. She was very upset by Morticia’s appearance and mean suggestion that Riss didn’t have a partner-“
“Of course she wouldn’t,” you interrupted, “She’s too busy being a badass successful woman at the head of a god-blessed academy!”
“Yes, yes, keep it in your pants,” he rolled his eyes fondly at you, “But she was breaking my dead heart and I suggested accompanying her. And first, she said it wouldn’t be the same, because we would go as friends and only confirm it to Morticia that Larissa was still alone. So I proposed we pretend to be a pair,” he seemed equal parts rather proud of himself and loathing his genius idea.
“I think it’s sweet of you. But I don’t think it’s going to work,” you said, not wanting to make him feel even worse, but enable to shake the feeling this was doomed to fail.
“Yes, I think you’re-“
“Professor!” a voice interrupted your friend’s comment and Razvan ran towards you, “I finally found you! I was looking for you to ask when we’re getting that coffee. I trust now you have my answer, correct?”
You were so full of this situation. Full of uncomfortable awkwardness, guilt and shame for playing with your colleague’s feelings, even if your intentions were benign. You had to tell him no, to say you didn’t like him that way. That he was too adorable and nice and you could never see him in that light.
“Oh, yes... about that, Raz...” you started, no idea of what you’d say next, “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression we could be more than colleagues and friends... but I’m-“
“In a relationship,” Vlad supplied.
“What?!” you and Razvan yelled in unison.
“C’mon, darling, it was bound to get out one time or another,” he kept going, the madman, “I know you’re worried about what people may think of her for it, but I swear Larissa is dying to go public.”
His maniac grin at your shell-shocked expression made you want to squeeze his neck until you heard it pop. It wouldn’t do much for him, but it would certainly be satisfying to you.
“Y-you and Principal Weems are together?!” the teacher was turning beet read and you had to give it to Vlad that it was a funny situation at least, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! And of course, I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me you were taken, that’s completely not my business... Oh my, I’m so sorry!” and with that he rapidly walked away, just shy of outright running.
“You little shit!” you exclaimed as soon as the other vampire was out of earshot, “What in the absolute heavens were you thinking?”
He was shaking with laughter while you punched his shoulder, which only made him go on a bit more before finally calming enough to talk, “You’re right,” he said, as if it explained everything, “I and Larissa aren’t a believable couple. But you and she are a pair one could easily sell.”
“What are you talking about?” you ran your hand through your face in exasperation. He was out of his mind, and now you were screwed if Razvan said anything to anyone.
“You’re here only a year. Morticia doesn’t know you and Larissa is comfortable enough around you to pretend to be with you. It might be even easier than with me because kissing someone after twenty years of friendship is admittedly awkward,” he reasons.
“Kissing some-? What are you even on about? I can’t pretend to be in love with her, you know I can’t! I’ll just make a fool of myself and let something slip.”
“Nonsense, girl. Let’s go, we need to tell Larissa about the change of plans,” he got up and held out his hand to you “And if she says no, we already told someone, so she’ll have to go with it.”
Chapter Two
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huntinglove · 11 months
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How to get away from antiship spaces (mostly)
Warnings: Long post, antis mention, mentions of pedophilia, rape, self harm and gore (none show, not descriptive)
Have you recently learned that you align yourself with the proship label? Would you like to get away from antis as safely as you can? Here's what I've learned, as an ex anti:
1. It may be hard, but try to get rid of/abandon your accounts where you used to interact with antis.
This is one of the hardest steps because having a lot of followers can be discouraging, but it's the safest approach in this situation, because if antis see you following or interacting with proshippers they WILL question you about it and depending on how you tackle their asks they'll throw you to the wolves and publicly "warn" people about you so people can mass report your account/harass you
This applies to anything; Tumblr blogs, Twitter profiles, Discord servers, if you've interacted with antis block them and delete your account if you decide to adopt the proship label
Antis constantly claim that they don't harass people but as soon as someone drops the anti label they dogpile them and call them "traitors" as well as their usual buzzwords to catch people's attention, it's better to pull the plug directly than just rebrand your account
1.5. If you REALLY want to keep your account because you've used it for a long time or because it works as a portfolio, please create a different account to post about proship content
If you make a new account remember to block your anti mutuals/followers from your main account before you start posting, art styles can be very unique and easy to spot similarities in, as well as typing patterns and reoccurring emojis/symbols
If there's the option to, keep your profile private until you've built a steady environment for yourself, if you prefer to keep your profile private permanently that's also a good option!
Remember, your safety matters more than numbers on a screen!
2. This one should go without saying but, please don't share much of your trauma/mental health issues/triggers with people online in general, but especially not with antis
I used to talk about my struggles and vent publicly a lot, antis would stalk my accounts and send me all types of fucked up content.
I've had people send me rape videos and threats, people telling me I deserved the abuse I went through, people would send me gore and self harm images, as well as suicide tutorials.
They can and will use all of it to their advantage, they're restless and will dig up even decade old posts if they feel it'll be useful for them. It can and will take a toll on your mental health, so please save yourself the trouble and only open up with people you genuinely trust and feel safe talking to!
You're not alone, but please don't let dangerous people take advantage of you when you're at a bad spot
3. Keep an eye on your followers, especially if your profiles are public. There are always some things to look out for to make sure your followers aren't antis pretending to be proshippers
According to my personal experience, here's some red flags to look out for:
A.Antis think that the word proship means problematic ship, so they'll refer to pairings as "a proship"
Most proshippers dislike this terminology because it comes from an incorrect definition and usually avoid it
B. TikTok antis specifically come up and use a lot of emoji combos, creating meanings for them and usually adding one or two combos that are actually known to proshippers, along with some never seen before
A lot of the time they use it to identify themselves, a sign that means "I'm not actually a proshipper, just baiting"
I've also seen antis use the clover emoji in combos, inspired by the "clovergender/cloversexual" scam that 4channers came up with, to make it seem like the LGBTQ+ community was welcoming to offending pedophiles. Antis do this because they assimilate the proship label with problematic ships, mostly age gaps/underage content
C. Their account is brand new but they already follow a lot of proshippers. This is usually because they'll follow proshippers who've been posted on a blocklist, usually in the exact order that they've been listed too
If they're on Tumblr, they'll usually keep the people they follow public, so that other antis can find and harass those proshippers
D. Keep an eye on their follow list. Like stated above, they'll usually keep it public and 9 times out of 10 there will be an out of place antiship account, it's most likely their main profile/account/blog
E. They'll use their usual buzzwords on their own posts
For example, if they're trying to mimic a proselfship account they'll post pictures of underage characters and caption it things like "omg i'm such a pedo" and tag their post with proship related tags
Of course this doesn't apply to everyone, so it's always important to take context into consideration, as well as how many of these red flags may apply.
And lastly, please remember that the block button is your friend.
If someone's interacting with you and something about them seems/feels off, block and move on
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mins-fins · 4 months
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should've been me.
&&. you're in love with him, that's great! all he's gonna do is use that to his advantage.
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pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader
genre: angst yummy
warnings: um uh.. sexual content??? (like mentions), the stress of friends with benefits, mentions of drinking, this relationship is very unhealthy
word count: 1.3k
notes: stole fwb hyuck from jj im so sorry but hes so………😢 um anyway so yeah he kinda really sucks here but hes so sexy and beautiful and a hashtag #malemanipulator😂 and reader just kinda takes it cause they're pretty pathetic if im being honest 🙏 (im so sorry but its true) (i quite literally wrote this) anyway DONT deal with people who treat you like shit you deserve better than that 🫵 i also wrote this in like 30 minutes at 1 am and river kept pestering me to sleep so thats cool 😆!
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you're not exactly sure what your problem is.
you're not exactly sure what donghyuck's problem is either.
maybe the two of you were simply meant for each other, he's a drunk mess in your house and your a sober mess beside him. although compared to him, your better at keeping yourself in check for long enough that it appears your emotionally stable, hyuck is like.. how would you explain it? a ticking time bomb.
renjun calls him that, he's a disaster waiting to happen, even with how much he tries to put on a stupid calm act. yeah, he's smart, much smarter than most people give him credit for, but he is also much more impulsive than he likes to say.
case in point, he's absolutely wasted in your home right now, whining about some stupid thing his seventh fling said or something.
he's absolutely reckless.
the two of you have been a bit.. off for the past few weeks, your very aware that donghyuck is messing with different people, probably trying to get you out of his head after you two yelled at each other like there was no tomorrow.
he just always seems to find his way back to your house, even after all the times you try to turn him away, he always slides his way back into your life, one way or another.
and you always just let him.
you now realize how you seem like a pushover. wow, chenle actually wasn't wrong for once.
your frustrated, he just decides to waltz into your house, after two weeks of ignoring your messages and going around with other people, messing around with other people, staying over at their houses, pretending that you didn't exist, he always thinks he can just get his way.
it's not like you two are dating or anything..
but you hate that it hurts.
"okay— stop screaming" you put your hands up, but donghyuck doesn't stop talking, just lowering the volume of his voice, he just continues talking faster. you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, sometimes you feel more like his mom than his 'friend that's more than a friend but not his partner'.
"donghyuck, you need to— be quiet" you say, you somehow find yourself walking towards him and place your hands onto his shoulders. he has to look up at you to glare at you, and you almost laugh at the fact, you always teased him about it before, but right now he's glaring at you, a look he's shared with you at only certain occasions.
"don't tell me what to do".
"you're in my house!"
"well where else am i supposed to go, y/n? your the one who opened the fucking door anyway!" he retorts, still glaring at you like before. he's not crazy drunk to the point that he's stumbling over his words and talking like a crazy person, but he's also not that sober either.
not like you don't have so many more other people willing to drop down on their knees for you, why don't you just go to any of their houses instead?
that's what you want to say, the words rest on your tongue, itching to escape your lips so you can finally talk about what's been bothering you all this time.
you two aren't dating, you aren't exclusive to each other, your not.. an "item" or whatever, you two just both found something you could use to your advantage, and it's not like there were any rules when it came to you two, you guys had no control over what the other did with other people.
you have no right to be jealous.
so you refrain from saying that, instead biting your tongue and choosing the first thing that comes to your mind. "i didn't let you in, i opened the door, and you stormed into my house, and now you refuse to get out!"
"you're just such a little— bitch".
you'd kiss him if he wasn't being so aggressive at the moment, you can't say that he didn't look absolutely.. well— irresistible in a sense. if you weren't so stubborn, you probably would've pounced on him already.
but you stand your ground.
for once he can't get his way, you'll make sure of it.
"actually, i know what your deal is!" he shouts, accusingly, he walks up to you and points his finger directly in your face. his expression is a mix of pissed off and absolutely smitten, as if he's in love with you and wants to punch you in the face at the same time.
"oh yeah? enlighten me?"
"you're in love with me".
donghyuck leans close to your face when he says it, spitting out the words like they're poisonous, it's like he knows just how much you feel, like he's taking apart the thoughts that have been constantly plaguing your mind one by one.
you laugh, true words, but your not gonna let him know that. you allow your expression to become one of humor, and you raise an eyebrow. "i'm in love with you? please, get over yourself".
donghyuck doesn't falter. "you're just so bothered by the fact that i'm in someone else's bed, that i don't parade around you all the time, you always say you don't mind than get so sad when i'm not giving you a hundred percent attention, you whine like a baby when i'm not here for just a minute".
his tone is a teasing one, he's making fun of you, like he's about to jump at you and destroy all that you love. he wants to see you break, he wants to see you give in, wants to watch as you slowly melt and encapsulate his words, digest them, he wants you to feel every single letter that comes out of his mouth.
it's like he almost finds you funny, in a sense—
but your not that easy to break, so you just let out yet another bitter chuckle. "okay then mr. know it all, why don't you sit down and let me help you sober up?"
"your a coward".
you grit your teeth, he just won't stop fucking talking will he? he just keeps going on and on and on and on, at this point your considering pulling out the duct tape above your cupboard and shutting him up for good, but instead you close your eyes and sigh.
"why is it so hard to say, y/n? are you really that afraid of commitment that the best you can do is friends that occasionally mess around with each other?"
"donghyuck" you drag your teeth against each other. "if you don't shut up i swear to god i'm throwing you out of this house and making you sleep in the freezing cold".
it's an actual threat, not an empty one, donghyuck knows you well enough that he can tell the difference. so, stubbornly, he sits down, arms crossed over his chest.
your not sure why you always end up taking care of him, he didn't ask for you to, he just wanted to stupidly sulk on your couch, attempting to "calm" his mind after he screamed at you, staying silent after he basically read out all your inner most thoughts to you, like he just reached into your mind and pulled out all the things you'd been thinking.
"you always get so talkative when you drink".
you've gotten much used to ignoring how much you hurt when donghyuck yells at you, it's all become a little thing between you two, you argue, you sleep with each other, you forget it the next day, then go exactly back to that.
it's not healthy for either of you, clearly, it's more of destroying you than anything, but you don't even try to negotiate with him, just let him sit there as you contemplate, standing at your kitchen counter.
"i hate you" you mutter, instinctively cracking your knuckles as you say those words.
and yeah— maybe you do say that,
but your always gonna end up right beside him in the end.
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useless-catalanfacts · 5 months
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By the way, these days that (thanks to hbomberguy's new video) many people are talking about plagiarism and stealing material without sources or obfuscating the sources, I'd like to point out how blatantly that happens here on Tumblr with images.
I follow various tags related to the contents of this blog, mostly the names of places in our country, and you wouldn't believe how many posts I get on my dash with "because you follow #[name of place]" and it's a photo of some completely different place, with no link to source nor name of the photographer, misattributed to a different location, even to a completely different country, or very often that is simply using that tag for ~aesthetics~. And I've also seen it the other way around, photos of our country and it says it's Italy, and the same happening with other pairs of countries. These posts also tend to come from the same few blogs: blogs completely dedicated to stealing photographers' and/or other artists' work, where post after post it's all they never say where they got them from. And, like in the case of some tags, it seems to me that often they're using these place names just to add on to the "exotic factor".
In the last months, I've also seen this happen increasingly more with AI-generated images. By not including the source and saying it's X place, they pretend it's not an AI but a photo. Some of them are very realistic (until you zoom in into the details) but some of them it seems to me like they shouldn't be believed, for example this one I got on my dash because I follow #Mallorca:
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First of all, that's obvious AI (look at the flowerpots, the supposed hieroglyphics, and there is another bathtub in the next room, so this person has 2 bathrooms but neither of them has a door?). I had seen this same image as part of an image set being shared some time ago titled something like "Ancient Egypt-inspired interior design", which makes much more sense and was in fact the prompt for the AI to create it. This AI created a bathroom (bath-courtyard?) inspired by the aesthetic of Ancient Egypt, but somewhere down the chain of people sharing the images someone decided to say this is in Mallorca, for some unknown reason.
The thing is, this aesthetic has nothing to do with Mallorca. Mallorcan architecture doesn't look anything like this, but many people are reblogging it and still tagging it #mallorca, which I assume means they believe this is a real place in Mallorca or at least has something to do with Mallorca.
Most people around the world won't know what Mallorca looks like, what its architecture looks like, they probably don't even know what language is spoken there or maybe even where it is on a map. And that's normal, because we can't know about every far-away place in the world! I don't mean to shame anyone who fell for this. But if they don't know anything about it, from now on, will this Ancient Egyptian style be what they associate with Mallorca? Is this the kind of image that they will associate with the island?
I don't have any point to make with this post, I only wanted to share this situation as a reminder not to believe everything you see on the internet, and especially when they're not telling you where it came from.
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