#id like to at least find out what was at the end of those long winding corridors before they leave permanently
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which one’s toshiro and whys he autistic?
[ID: full body colored illustration of toshiro from the dungeon meshi manga. /End ID]
THIS FREAKIN GUY!!!! anyway
[ID: anonymous tumblr ask: "would def love to hear ur autistic shuro thoughts". /End ID]
awesome. rant under the cut because it will be long
So before we understand why Toshiro is the way he is we must first understand two things abt him:
1. his household situation is a very traditional clan of warriors type situation. his father is very strict and he left his homeland to go to the Island and explore the dungeon to train and become a warrior to be someone suited as the family head
2. Eastern and Western cultures of respect/propriety are different, and Ryoko Kui highlights it well even in her fantasy world.
With that in mind, heres some bullet point rapid fire thoughts that consume my current state of dunmeshi brain:
Toshiro has an avoidant personality. He fears upsetting others due to his upbringing, and rarely tells others how he feels not because he thinks they would simply understand him but because he doesn't want to seem rude and imposing / cause offense to others especially since he's not in his own homeland / hes a foreigner that should respect the land's customs, not his own wishes.
Setting boundaries is hard for everyone, but especially autistic (and some other ND, like those with Avoidant Personality Disorder) people. Those with ASD, at least in my experience, don't want to be isolated from others. So they mask.
They mask what? their desires. their true selves. their opinions. their discomfort. all for the sake of pleasing others (who are often neurotypical)
With that in mind, suddenly, what Maizuru said abt him as a child makes sense. Due to his strict upbringing, Toshiro had to more or less hide his preferences and force himself to adapt to the rigid constraints of his culture and the pressure to be the next family head, this responsibility is his burden to bear and he cannot be someone who expresses his selfish desires instead of focusing on being a strong warrior and leader
"Why did he say he hate Laios and that it should've been obvious that he disliked/found Laios' treatment of him uncomfortable??" BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. I'm not going to write off Laios' autism/autistic coding, but its baffling (note: definitely racism and bias for white autistic ppl) to me that a lot of ppl don't see Toshiro's perspective and straight up ignores it. This is a lack of wanting to be rude by speaking up that is based on culture difference on Toshiro's part, and straight up ignorant of his microagressions/racism and lack of self awareness on Laios' end. They were both right, they were both wrong too. This is a complicated conflict that cannot be boiled down to simple ableist/the NT vs ND divide. There's something called . intersectionality. Which brings me to the next point
Toshiro never actually hated Laios. He found him uncomfortable, yes. But he didn't /hate/ him, he was speaking out because he's had enough!!! he's done tolerating Laios' racist bullshit, and he's done following the arbitrary Eastern rules of respecting others and not being rude!!! He. Wants. Laios. To Understand. What. He. Was. Feeling. Because he just had enough!!!!! alright!!! he's at his limit hes at his breaking point, the one he loves is now probably beyond saving, and this is a good time as any to break the news to Laios that he thinks that Laios is impulsive and doesn't fully understand how his actions have consequences!!! Hes right abt this. His feelings on this is valid, just as valid as Laios'
General autistic traits I find from Toshiro: his admiration of Falin's indifference towards insects ("woah shes so brave and gentle!! just like me, fr!!!"), His lack of regard for his own needs and wants (needing to sleep and eat and drink) because he was super focused on saving Falin, His lack of like drastic expression changes, his discomfort with physical touch when it's initiated without consent (see: Laios hugging ppl extra bonus art by Ryoko Kui), his manner of like speaking short and concise, people pleasing tendencies, his like quick way of combat, rule upholder/routine following enjoyer, he seems distant from others even those he consider family not cuz of like any terrible reason but hes just. someone who enjoys his own time alone like. yeah
aannnnndd. thats abt it? i think.
Big part of this is definitely me relating to Shiro as an Asian (specifically chinese indonesian) person who is probably Autistic lmao. I hope this brings more insight on why Toshiro is actually one of the silliest and epiccest dunmeshi characters ever I love him
#asks#dungeon meshi#toshiro nakamoto#dunmeshi#L 👁️🗨️🌫️ !#shuro dunmeshi#(help)#idk if he has tags. does he have fans here. pls say he does
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that’s not very cis of you
BYE🛌
It's complicated alright 😭💀
#a lil personal story about this now that the topic came up:#some time ago i started questioning my gender identity but i didnt like the spanish they/them pronouns on myself#they just didnt sit right lol#so i tried using gender neutral language (ig yall know spanish is one of the many languages that is VERY gendered#even fcking objects have their own 'gender' lmao) so yea if it pas possible i phrased what i said abt myself in a pronounless way#but when it was not possible to do that id use male pronouns to try how i felt with them. the thing is that every fucking time i did that#some dude in a gc i was in said 'dO u hAvE a D¡cK????' and it made me really uncomfy as if i needed it to be able to use those pronouns 🧍#LITERALLY EVERY TIME so eventually i gave up because i thought what's the point of finding my identity if it wont be respected anyways?#so yea im resigned to be seen as the same I was born with the same i've always been and the same everyone knows me#dont get me wrong i dont always hate being a girl but sometimes it makes me curious how would it be if i wasnt#and i dont mind what pronouns ppl use with me most of the time as long as it's not with a bad intention#I've wondered if maybe i'm a she/they? idk i just gave up thinking about it#at least for now. i have my whole ass life to find out what or who i am so i don't feel there's a need to rush tbh#woah this rant got rlly long sorry lol idk if anyone will read this far 🏃#btw it's not only about that guy but he made me constantly remember that most people at least here in latam are very closed minded#just like him so if i ended up finding an identity i was happy with it wouldnt be respected by most people irl anyways#i'm not in that gc anymore tho#i hope i was able to like explain well what i mean? i don't wanna seem like i gave up that easily just because some dude was being a jerk#it's just that i'm kind of an overthinker
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cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this
a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.
you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.
they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.
that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.
until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.
no one shows up.
not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.
but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.
at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering over two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.
“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.
“lieutenant riley.”
oh.
you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”
“wha’ a shame.”
lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.
“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”
“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.
this strange man is in your home.
this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.
he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.
(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)
“your… your room is on the left.”
he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.
so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.
whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.
you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.
the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.
not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.
of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.
“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–
riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”
then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.
the bar is in hell.
(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)
it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.
#sorry ive been really into mean creepy nasty man simon lately#ill edit in the morning💤#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#simon ‘ghost’ riley#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#x reader#cod#call of duty#fanfic
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Hi All! I thought it was time i gave a lil update from this game and how its been going.
I'm one that tends to keep to myself till a project is fully complete or close to complete, but I've gained a lot of asks about this over time and more as of late lol. So thought I'd cut the radio silence a tad and answer a few repeat questions id gotten!
Are you working on the game?
Surprisingly, yeah.
Will this be a completed game to buy?
Definitely not, least not now. My plan is to make a basic demo of the game as building a complete game with the script and everything would take a very long time and a lot to learn!
It would also be a free to play game, as Its a fan game.
When can we see it, are you almost done, videos and updates!!!
Well... 2023 was a busy year for me personally. And as a person who is still learning to animate along with barely any knowledge of game coding. Led to me needing to learn a lot and do trial and error.
A lot of things are temporary placeholders and incomplete textures with testing. So I didn't feel they where good to share progress of.
a lot of it was me learning, trying different styles to work with the game, and sketches throughout.
Can i help with the project????
I do appreciate you all asking for help,But I don't know much about game development and working with a team on this. So it's more of a passion project for me, and so far what I have learned has been nice :>.
I didn't wanna rely and give up on the project or delay it so much due to factors so I'm workin on it alone right now till the project is farther along and more stable.
Will it look exactly like the trailer, what kind of game is it, what all do you have planned for the demo?
Admittedly I had originally made sprites and everything to match the video, but i ended up going for a more chibi type style as its easier to work with.
Its a side scrolling game with rpg like elements.
The current plan is to have two fully completed stages, a mini game, 4 playable characters (2 being Sun and Moon), and some extra features.
Will the demo be out this year?
I can't say, it all depends on how much time i work on it and learn ;o! I don't like to get hopes up, but I work it on it when I can.
Crumbs, please
Some of the daycare and model updates. It's not much, but I find it fun to run around and interact with things lol
So all and all for those really wondering about the project, its still a heavy work in progress. A fun and frustrating one for sure, but Its been nice actually learning to code and design it so far.
Hope this answered a few questions and of course you can ask other stuff about it, I don't mind.
Thank you!
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I’m once again returning to do god’s work by bringing you delightful moments from Spock’s World by Diane Duane.
[Text ID: “Spock was bent over [the Science Station], making some adjustment. ‘Readout now,’ he said, straightening and looking over his shoulder at the large, shaggy-fringed rock that was sitting in the center seat.
Some of those glittering fringes stroked the open circuitry of the communicator controls in the seat’s arm. ‘Point nine nine three,’ said a scratchy voice from the voder box mounted on the rock’s back. ‘A nice triple sine.’
‘Nice?’ said Spock. Jim raised an eyebrow: you could have used Spock’s tone of voice to dry out a martini.” End ID]
There’s a Horta crewman on the Enterprise now and they’re great!
[Text ID: “Still working on her doctoral thesis, Jim thought. Uhura was busy working on improving universal translator theory, mostly by taking the old theory to pieces and putting it back together in shapes that were causing a terrible furor in academic circles on various planets. Jim vividly remembered one night quite a long time ago when he had asked Uhura exactly how she was going about this. She had told him, for almost an hour without stopping, and in delighted and exuberant detail, until his head was spinning with phoneme approximations and six-sigma evaluations and the syntactic fade and genderbend and recontextualization and linguistic structural design and the physics of the human dextrocerebral bridge. The session had left Jim shaking his head, thoroughly disabused of the idea (and ashamed of how long he had held it) that Uhura was simply a sort of highly trained switchboard operator.” End ID]
Uhura continues to be a total badass and is amazing at what she does.
[Text ID: Chatroom title in all caps:
“COMMON ROOM
OPINION, INFORMED AND NON-
RANTING AND RAVING PERMITTED
NAMES NOT NECESSARY”
Regular text: “It was one of the places he came to find out what his crew was thinking. Messages did not have to be attributed to a name or terminal, but they could not be private. The office of the common room system operator rotated through the crew, offered to various members on the strength of their psych profiles in areas like calm reaction to stress and anger. The common room syops tended to be closemouthed and dependable, the kind of person that others refer to as ‘a rock.’ (Once it had actually been Naraht, to the amusement of just about everyone.) Here tempers could flare, awful jokes be told safely, suspicions be aired, rumors be shot down. The common room was sometimes a peaceful place, sometimes a powderkeg. Jim never ignored it.” End ID]
The Enterprise has a dumpster fire chat room that has just as much shitposting and vitriol as twitter.
[Text ID: “Jim bowed over her free hand. ‘It’s been too long,’ he said.
‘It’s good to be back,’ Amanda said. ‘And in the middle of a party as well.’ She looked a little wry. ‘A little entertainment will be pleasant before the deluge.’
Sarek’s eyes flicked to Kirk, a considering look. ‘My wife speaks figuratively,’ he said, ‘in the tradition of her people. Deluges are not common on Vulcan.’
‘My husband speaks circumspectly,’ Amanda said, just as dryly, ‘in the tradition of his.’” End ID]
Amanda and Sarek are as charming as ever.
[Text ID: “Jim was mildly surprised to see that to his other rank tags and decorations, McCoy had added a small, understated IDIC. ‘If I didn’t know you better,’ he said, ‘I’d think you were going native. When did you get that?’
‘Today in the gift shop, when you were looking at the snowball paperweights with Mount Seleya in them. Tackiest things I ever saw.’
‘Yes,’ Spock said; ‘they were imported from Earth.’
‘You be quiet. We can’t let these people leave the Federation, Jim. At least not until they teach us how to make tasteful souvenirs.’” End ID]
Just this.
[Text ID: “There was Sreil, the burly, brown-haired biologist from the Academy, and T’Madh, a little bright-eyed woman of great age and curiosity, a computer programmer; and her son Savesh, who when asked what he did, said, ‘I am a farmer,’ with a sort of secret satisfaction that hinted he thought his job better than any of the more technical ones that the people around him held. Jim had to smile; the thought of a Vulcan farmer was slightly funny, even though there naturally had to be some. But the image of a Vulcan in coveralls, chewing on a stalk of hay, kept coming up and having to be repressed.” End ID]
I love Savesh the Vulcan farmer!
[Text ID: “’Jim,’ he said, ‘the best translation of nehau would be an old word: “vibes.” The feeling-in-your-bones that something gives you. It’s highly subjective.’
‘Right. Go on, Savesh.’
‘Well, Captain, I have heard numerous Vulcans say that losing the Federation and the Earth people would be no particular loss, because they had bad nehau, and that could not fail to affect us sooner or later.. But I must tell you that I find your nehau not objectionable at all; pleasant, even.’ End ID]
Vulcan wanting to leave the Federation because the ~vibes~ are off.
[Text ID: “His grasp of dialect and idiom as amazing for anybody, off-planet or on. He once reduced the President of the United States—then a ceremonial post, but one much loved by the people who lived within the old borders—to tears of laughter at a state dinner, by delivering a learned dissertation on computer data storage technology in a flawless Texan accent. The lady was later heard to propose an amendment to the Constitution to allow off-worlders to hold high public office, so that she could have him for her running mate in the next election.” End ID]
I would give anything to hear Sarek do a perfect Texas accent.
[Text ID: “—but when Amanda became annoyed over what she perceived as his smugness about being right, her eyes would flash and she would become splendidly insulting, usually in bizarre Anglish idiom that Sarek found as refreshing as it was annoying. She caused him to laugh out loud for the first time in many years when she told him, after a disagreement over the translation of the word for war, that he should only grow headfirst in the ground like a turnip. Later that month, when he was right about something again and made the mistake of not immediately down-playing it, she issued him with a formal malediction, wishing that the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind orphan children might pursue him so far over the hills and the seas that God Almighty couldn’t find him with a radio telescope. Sarek laughed so hard at that that he entirely lost his breath, and Amanda panicked and started to give him cardiopulmonary resuscitation, which was useless, because his heart was somewhere other than the spot on which she was pounding. It took him nearly an hour to recover: he kept laughing. He had never been cursed like that before, not even by union leaders, and it was very refreshing.” End ID]
This dynamic is perfect, no notes.
[Text ID: “The next night they sat in the Rec Deck again, in the middle of a large impromptu party that was going on around them by way of celebration. The sense of relief in the ship was palpable. A group of about a hundred crewfolk, mostly human, had surrounded Spock earlier in the evening and sung ‘For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow,’ accompanied by twenty crewmen on kazoos. Sarek had been given champagne.” End ID]
I really hope the TOS Enterprise has crew performances like on Next Gen. This kazoo band needs to be heard! Also, I can perfectly picture Spock’s annoyed-but-tolerant expression as he resigns himself to the kazoo serenade.
Thank you @dianeduane for making me laugh!
#star trek#star trek tos#spock’s world#diane duane#star trek books#star trek novels#spock#jim kirk#leonard mccoy#sarek#amanda grayson
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The Best Vidding Safe Haven?
Forgive the "read bait" meme above but if you are reading these words right now that means it worked. If you are a vidding fan then it was worth it.
Vidders.net was born July 19, 2010. It is a Vidder-friendly AO3 Embed Certified Vid hosting & streaming site with over 18K vids. Its growth benefited from You Tube's increased use of content ID and the closing of Imeem. It was mentioned in the "Vidding: A History" book by Francesca Coppa. Its members (most who host some great vids there) include:
Luminosity
Lim
Laura Shapiro
Lithiumdoll
Obsessive24
Clucking Bells
Charmax
Bradcpu
thedothatgirl
kiki miserychic
Milly
Hollywoodgrrl
bop radar
Loki (secretlytodream)
Condsdmlk
newkidfan
NCISMelanie
Shoopdancer
Absolute Destiny
SD Wolfpup
Arefadedaway
camelia1986
adfproductions
Astarte
Such Heights
Mithoborien
mresundance
Just to name a few. You may not recognize these names but if you do you know these vidders literally made a name for themselves with the quality of their work during that time. At least in my opinion. The site is a time capsule of awesome vids even if some of the vidders listed are no longer active. Additionally, it hosts vids no longer available on You Tube like "Boom Boom Ba" by Charmax (a classic Xena vid). And yet it can still host new content without the issues faced on some other vid hosting options.
How much does it cost to host and stream all those vids? Well, that is one of the reasons for this post. The assumption I'm making is that if there is a Vidding "community" it's more likely than not that members of it would see a post like this and/or share it with fellow members of the community. Is it worth it to keep a site like this around? It's mostly been a solo operation for these past 13 years but now I am starting to wonder after such a long time.
I'll spare you the obligation of filling out a poll or survey. I'll make it simple. We have a Patreon account at patreon.com/vidding. If you don't feel it's worth keeping up. Nothing to do. Thank you for reading this far. If you feel there is some value based on what was mentioned earlier, then a minimum level of support at the Patreon is $1 a month. You'll not only be supporting the Vidders.net but other projects like the recent purchase of the Vidding.com domain name and more.
The OTW October fundraiser drive begins in October and is on track to raise about 250k. Rasing even 1 percent of that amount would be more than adequate. After all Vids on AO3 make up less than 1 percent of the content on there anyway. I've been told by a fellow fan that I should keep it running but if it's not even supported by a community, it's a personal expense at my expense I am on the hook for. Again, there is no survey or poll to take but if you have questions that may help you determine your willingness to support just contact me. If you find value in preserving the site just visit Patreon.com/vidding or get your questions answered. This form of funding is more sustainable than occasional stop and start donation efforts we've done in the past. If you prefer another form of funding let us know.
I will check in by the end of October to see where things are. I am not going to do anything drastic. It's just that it's been 13 years and I started to wonder especially with my current financial situation but didn't want to do anything without communicating the situation. The site costs about $720 a year to run. At about $60 a month to run so it should be doable.
Boom Boom Ba by Charmax
If you liked this post you might like this:
The YouTube Vid Purge of 2021
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𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐓 ! - 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒┊i’ve left you guys w nothing for so long 💔 so take this small series (multiple chapters) as a apology, hopefully you guys will forgive meeee— AND i’d like to add the kazuha smut isn’t gonna come out till the end of november or thee begging of december, anddd expect a albedo smau ❤️
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒┊fluff, suggestive (ofc, it’s written by pri, what else do u expect?), fem! reader, modern au, somewhat ooc alhaitham not rly though, AND CUTIE PATOOTIE READER… w a little attitude
“ come on alhaitham! it can’t hurt to try dating someone… ” kaveh tried to reason with him— claiming that he’d been single long enough and needed a relationship. ( also he is very attractive, and has chicks swarming all around him… you’d think he’d make the effort to start something with one of them… but! guess not! )
“ kaveh, i said no. i’m in no need of a reltionship— plus all these.. girls. ” he hesitated— thinking of a proper way to describe them.
“ their annoying, and clearly don’t care much for their studies.. i need a partner who actually has a brain. ” alhaitham said sourly.
“ ugh… ” kaveh pouted, “ brains aren’t everything, you know? if i were you i would’ve got a girlfriend already!! ”
“ i hope one day these girls realize you’ve got no personality and are rude and— and well, you know!”
“then they’ll realize what a true man is… ” he grinned. “ aka, me. ”
“ brains aren’t everything? i disagree… a persons brain is—”
“ shush! i don’t need one of your lectures about how blah blah means blah blah. ” kaveh scoffed, frowning once more.
“ one day you’re going to end up dating a no brainer, just because their pretty. ” alhaitham murmured, closing his book and leaning his head back on his seat.
“ and you’re gonna end up dating no one. ” kaveh snapped back.
“ fine by me. ” alhaitham said stoically, but to be honest… he did want to love someone eventually, but he wouldn’t admit that to kaveh.
“ you know what? if you can’t find anyone you like here at our uni… why not get a dating app! there’s plenty of smart people on those! ” kaveh exclaimed excitedly, desperate to get his “lonely” roommate a partner.
“ and get catfished? no thank you. ” alhaitham declined quickly… but seriously, a dating app might be a good idea— maybe he could meet someone at his intellectual level.. not some dumbass like all the girls here.
“ not everyone on dating apps are catfishers, come on! please try one! and i’ll pay you a visit to the library…!! ” kaveh pleaded. “ you don’t even have to date… you can just make a friend! ”
friend….? well he certainly needed more of those— as well as new books.
“ a visit to the bookstore, not library, and you have a deal. ” alhaitham tilted his head up at kaveh.
“ ugh… fine. just don’t buy too many books! or else i’ll never be able to afford supplies for my project. ”
alhaitham hummed. “ alright, i’ll limit myself to… eh, three books. ”
from the most expensive section too…
“ three?! come on make it at least two… ” kaveh pouted. “ you always get the most expensive books, so two! ”
alhaitham sighed, “ fine, two books, and i’ll try that stupid dating app. ”
“ bet! ” kaveh gleamed, picking up alhaitham’s phone which made alhaitham jolt up a bit.
“ hey what are you— ” kaveh shushed him.
“ getting you the app, obviously!! ” kaveh chuckled, flashing the phone over to alhaitham’s face for face-id.
poor alhaitham couldn’t even snatch it back.
kaveh was typing away on alhaithams phone ( without alhaitham’s consent too! how rude! )
“ here! now you can set up your profile. ” kaveh handed alhaitham back the phone.
“ okay, okay. ” alhaitham muttered, sounding unhappy… but in reality he was a little bit excited.
“ kaveh. why do you even want me to date someone….? ”
“ because haitham, your 23 and haven’t even gotten a peck on the lips— and your like, i dunno, attractive? i have no idea i just wanna help you live a little… ”
alhaitham blinked at his friend a couple of times… live a little? he was already living his life the best he could.
well actually, that was debatable.
“ yeah, okay. ” alhaitham clicked on the profile… he needed a profile picture and bio..
“ use the photo from the festival! you know, the one with the glasses and you actually smiling! ” kaveh suggested.
“ that one…? okay. ” alhaitham scrolled through his gallery, which was mostly just photos of kaveh making faces, books, and some things he found appealing (aesthetic sunsets, and photos of trees and plants).
“ what about for my bio? ” alhaitham asked kaveh, who seemed to already be conducting something “good”.
“ say your name, age, mbti, zodiac, and major! and whatever else you think is important for your soulmate to know. ” kaveh nodded proudly.
“ soulmate? you make me laugh. there’s no such things as soulmates. ” alhaitham scoffed. “ people fall in love and that’s it, there’s no mystical soulmate thing behind it— think realistically kaveh. ”
“ i am thinking realistically! ” kaveh snapped back, brows furrowing. “ your so ungrateful. ”
“ and my zodiac? the fuck does that have to do with anything? ” alhaitham raised a eyebrow, but typed it down anyways.
“ i thought you believed in astrology! ”
kaveh sighed, trying to calm himself down— screaming wasn’t going to help him. he couldn’t get a another sore throat from alhaitham.
“ whatever, just put anything down at this point…”
“ i should write down ‘ lover has to be smart ’… ” alhaitham said with the faintest smile.
kaveh gave him a look.
“ it’s a joke dumb ass. ” or was it?
( 2 days later ) it was about 1:24 a.m— and for some reason alhaitham was awake watching tiktok.
i mean he couldn’t sleep because of kaveh’s loud snoring.. and he has finished his books— and didn’t exactly want to binge on his new ones all in one night.
and that’s when he got it— a silly little notification.
‘ you matched with… [ name ], [ last name ] ! congratulations!! ’
“ the fuck… ” alhaitham squinted, clicking on the notification to be brought to your profile.
he examined it for a moment, you took the same major as him and were fairly… pretty.
he stared at it for a moment longer before receiving another notification.
‘ [ name ], [ last name ] would like to chat with you! ’
of course, he quickly clicked the approve button.
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#alhaitham#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham smut#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin imagines#alhaitham smau#smau
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Hey, could you help me ? I've had the weirdest thing happen to me, and I don't know who to turn to...
See, yesterday, after going to bed a bit early since I was tired, I didn't wake up in my bed... but rather on a rather fancy couch in, you know, one of those modern cubic manors the other side of town...
Worse still, there was visible traces of alcohol, and even other people sleeping in the living room I was in, all of them young popular-looking guys and girls... It looked like the aftermath of a party, yet I don't drink alcohol, I'm not sociable at all, I'm not fashionable and I hate parties !
Although I was able to leave without being noticed, I'm still unsure of how in hell I ended up over there. So, could you help me understand what happened ?
The next morning is even stranger. You're lying naked on silken sheets in a huge bed. Your body nestled close to a young man with the body of a Roman god. Your hard-on is downright painful! Until you realize that this is not a dream. You slide off the bed, gather up your clothes and tiptoe out of the room and out of the house. Shit, traces of a party everywhere… This is what you imagine a modern version of the great Gatsby to look like. You get dressed on the lawn in front of the house. The expensive Hanro underwear isn't really yours. And although you can unlock it with your face, the brand new iPhone isn't really yours either. Something strange, something very strange is going on here!
During the day, you receive a whole series of messages from people you don't know, but whose contact details all seem to be saved in your address book. I wonder if you're meeting for an aperitif before the party today. What you are going to wear. Whether they should give you a lift or whether you should take a cab. You're sitting at your desk, processing claims and wondering what's going on. Should you answer? Should you ignore things? You decide to ignore it. At some point you call it a day. On the way home, you grab something from the Vietnamese restaurant. And eat it in front of the TV.
This time you wake up on a lounger by an impressive pool. At least you're not naked this time. You're wearing a golden thong. And you have no idea where your clothes are. Only your cell phone is lying on the floor next to you. So what? There are plenty of clothes lying around. From different people. None of it is yours or even your style. But you can't walk around naked. So you're waiting for a cab in a satin suit and sandals and you feel incredibly ridiculous. Until you find your wallet in the inside pocket of your jacket. Well, at least a wallet with your ID and driver's license. It's from someone who looks different from you, but who has your name on it. What the hell is going on here?
After a shower, you stand in front of the mirror in your apartment. Your skin looks darker somehow. You somehow look fitter. You just look different. Your phone reports that people are liking and commenting on your latest Instagram posts. You don't even have an Instagram account. You're late for work. You have to turn your phone off because it won't stop vibrating with incoming messages. Your head keeps vibrating. You get a migraine. You call in sick. You have to go to bed.
Damn, that was the best party in a long time! Shit, you've blacked out, you've overdone it again. Thank God it's only a few meters to your house. You can only hope that you don't have any appointments tomorrow morning that you've overlooked. And if you do, your manager will have to take care of that. You need to throw up now and then get some sleep. And tomorrow the party will be at your house. You have a reputation to lose as a host and as a party animal. Give it your all!
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Happy birthday my love || Satoru Gojo x gn!reader
Words: 0.8k
Warnings: hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, short fic, fluff, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love)
Notes: a few days ago was my birthday and this short fic came to me. It doesn’t have anything special but I wanted to post it. And since I’m preparing a Gojo college fic I wanted to post a one shot about him before releasing it, maybe in the future there are more one shots.
Materialist
You hated your birthday, ever since you were 7 and no one decided to show up at your birthday party you hated it. It was that moment you decided not to tell anyone when your birthday was because it was pointless, no one would remember it anyways. And no one bothered on asking.
So now turning 28 you do it on your own, the only called to wish you a happy birthday is from your mom but no one else called and you don’t blame them. In the end they don’t know when your birthday is. Is more your fault than anyone else but you don’t want to suffer what you suffered back on the day. So it’s better like this, at least that’s what you tell yourself, but the pain is still there.
Now you are on your sofa, with the sun already gone and watching a random film you found on stream. It’s entertaining, even funny you could say but your mind is lost in other parts.
You heard three knocks on your door. You are shattered at first until you see a message on your phone.
Open up! It’s me
You rolled your eyes, what was he doing there? He was supposed to be out of city for the weekend. You got up heavily from the couch and shuffled to the entrance. You opened the door to see the smiling face of your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo.
You had met through a dating app almost a year ago and after a couple of dates you had started dating. Satoru or 'Toru as he liked to be called, used to spend a lot of time away from home, his work made him travel and be away from there for short periods. You can't deny that at first he gave you a bad feeling, all those “trips” set off alarm bells, but after 9 months of dating, Satoru had never done anything to make you doubt what you had. Rather everything he did made you fall more in love with him. You could safely say that you trusted him completely.
“Hello baby.” He said giving you a kiss on the forehead, he was way taller than you so it was a gesture he would always do. “I got us pizza.” He said showing it.
“That’s great.” You closed the door. “But I thought you were out for a business trip.” You sat down next to him on the coach.
“Yeah, but I finished everything earlier so I came here as soon as I could.” He hanged you a piece of pizza.
“Hmm.” You tasted it, pepperoni, you’re favorite.
It was scary how well he knew you sometimes.
“Besides.” He looked at you. “How could I leave my baby alone on this day?”
You looked at him confused. “What do you mean?”
He smiled and turned around to search for something on his jacket. “I know you have never told me.” He paused for a moment. “And maybe this is crossing the line and I’m sorry if I’m crossing the line but.” He turned around and you saw what he had on his hands. Two candles, a 2 and an 8. “Let me spend your birthday with you my love.” He placed the candles on one slide of pizza and turned them on. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” He placed the portion in front of you.
“How…” Your eyes stung, you were going to break at any moment, how long has it been since you blew out the candles? You don't even remember it anymore. “How did you find out?”
“It's not very gentlemanly of me but look at your ID. I'm sorry.” You shook your head. “Now make a wish my love.”
And for the first time in years you blew out the candles making a wish. You opened your eyes to find Satoru's blue eyes looking at you and smiling.
“I was going to buy a cake but the bakeries were already closed. And since you loved pizza you decided it could be interesting to be a cake right?”
“‘Toru.” You threw yourself and braced him. “Thank you for this.” You couldn’t contain your tears any longer, so you let them flow.
“Don’t thank me babe.” He kissed your hair. “Next year, I will take you out and we will have a big birthday party for you.”
You shook your head. “If it’s you and me, like this, next year it will be perfect.”
He touched your cheeks. “I love you.”
“I love you too, ‘Toru.” You kissed him.
“Happy birthday my love and thank you for being in my life.”
#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you
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I’ll find you
Chapter 1: Never love an anchor
Cowboy!Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Rating; Angst & 18+
Prompt; Running from his past, Miguel finds you once he’s as far as he can go.
Warnings; abusive husband, blood, violence, violence against women, misogyny, forced sui*ide, death, swearing, Wild West period piece, depressed reader, and guns
Word count; 4K
Your chest and shoulders were thrown onto the ground, your skin lightly bruised and cut on impact.
“Move it whore!”
One of your husbands goons screeched out against the sea of ringing in your ears from the shock. You can’t even lift yourself up with your wrists bound to one another behind your back. Dust powdered your cheek on top of your regular blush. Your bun was messily loosened as said goon picked you up by your left forearm. Placed back onto your legs, you saw the sunrise’s light falling to you along the brim of every leaf you were escorted under.
Your heels scuffed and ripped beyond repair against this forest trial. You were almost out of breath, none of your muscles built to withstand this hike. You’ve long lost sight of your home, of the city, and of any beaten path created by civilization. Besides this likely long forgotten piece of hunting path you were dragged down.
You huffed as the two other men your husband sent to “take care of you” walked beside you. Your heart was eerily calm in your rib cage, as you were too bound in rope escorted to your death. You know they were taking you somewhere high. Likely planning to untie you then throw you off the edge. Your husbands ruthless, cruel, and egomaniacal; but you’d also count smart among those facts.
Your tears were sealed behind your eyes by the fact you may be getting what you deserve. You just prayed your daughter at least gets a good life, and a good escape from him. Just as the trail of thought began, the end of the one you all walked on met you.
“Fuckin finally-“ the man furthest from you whined under his breath. Slightly letting go of the rifle in both of his hands.
You’ve already exhausted your efforts to escape hours ago. The goon started undoing the knot keeping your wrists together. Once free of the abrasive material, a push sends you closer to the brownish golden edge. The jagged cliff was founded on a collection of boulders. Giant rocks placed on the neck connecting the ground and the height you all set yourselves on. The peach colors the sun's ascension painting among the clouds hovering it set you at ease. At the very least the view was pretty. Even as the view was punctuated by a clanking of a gun being pointed at your back.
“Get movin-“ the man aiming it commanded, the other two just caught their breath as you’d finish the job for them.
They divided the forest from the edge, running would mean granting them a better shot. Even if that’d be a cleaner, more painless death than whatever meets you at the bottom from here. You’ll take your death in your own hands. Considering your husbands already took your life from you. You set your posture straight, feeling the ache of your bruises along your skin as you try to walk as firmly as possible.
You scuffed your fancy black shoes further as you eat up the space between you and the edge. His aim didn't falter, it didn’t take you looking back at him to know that. Soon your leather covered toes were an inch from the very line between the ground and air. A brief peer down confirmed what you already knew. An ever stagnant wave of broken bones and a slow or quick death depending on where you land. Awaited you, inevitably bound to hug it.
“What did I say!? Move it!” One of the men shouted impatiently. You sighed, tears sealed behind your eyes by the knowledge you probably deserve this.
“Can I have my last thoughts at least?” A half sarcastic, half genuine question. The men had a silent telepathic exchange behind you.
“Yeah, sure.” One of them eventually answered, how considerate of them. After a sigh, you made the first prayer in what felt like a lifetime.
It was all written for your daughter, Mona; praying to whatever could listen and would do anything. To protect your child. To at least give her an escape from her father that you didn’t possess from your husband. Concluding with an apology your daughter would never hear. Sorry for making that man her father, sorry for making her live with him. Sorry for being responsible for who he is. Once you finish.
Suddenly your legs became ten times heavier, your spine too frail to hold the upper half of your physique. The heart in your chest trying to stop itself so you’d collapse backwards and not forwards. A chill fishing under your flesh.
Your mind and body were at war as you desperately tried to win over the battlefield going in every cell of your being. An invisible air pushing you off that cliff, your limbs sore from the hike. You’d just softly collapse down the cliff. Leaning yourself over the very tip, you felt nothing holding you up anymore as you fell beyond it. Gently closing your eyes as gravity took its price. All you wanted to think, see, and feel was your daughter.
The smell of her hair as you kissed her good night overcame your nose. Silkiness of her locks dancing on your fingertips as you braided her hair. How she wants to write books and be an author. You were so wrapped in that self created bubble of comfort, when you heard.
“Are you okay?”
Is when you realized you should’ve been dead by now. Opening your eyes, your gaze was meet with water color brown eyes. Framed by a cowboy hat at the top, and a bandana concealing his face from the bridge of his nose and down. His hand wasn’t dug into a divot in the rock but his skin along stuck you both to the wall. His other muscular arm lined against your back the only thing keeping you from falling back. Looking down confirmed what you were already seeing, that barrage of boulders you gazed upon when at the top. It didn’t kill your confusion and shock however.
“What the fuck?!”
The goon overlooking you two from the height of the cliff spoke your exact thoughts. Suddenly you felt the toll of gravity all over again. You screeched as the man gripped you with both arms pushing you both up with a strength you’ve never witnessed before. You opened your eyes a split second after instinctively shutting them in fear when you felt the drop around your body again. Opening them, you were now behind the three men who came to investigate your lack of dying. Gently set down like a baby in a crib as the man whispered to you.
“Close your eyes if you don’t want to see what happens next.” His words traveled to your ears as a growl, the goons nor you had time to react.
As the mysterious man had a talon extended from each one of his ten fingers. Leaping at them he dug each of his claws violently across their throats. Blood dressed the ground, as some of the men tried to fire their guns. But missed as he pushed them off the ledge. A hue of red ran down his wrists across his claws as the momentary fight subsided. You finally got your senses back, not sparing a moment to thank him. You ran off, not in fear of him. But for your daughter.
You hurried towards the forest and down the familiar trail. The man must’ve turned and saw you running, chasing after you he insisted.
“Hey stop! It’s okay no ones gonna hurt you-“
“NOT ME- they have my daughter!” You explained not slowing your pace, but a rock intercepting your left foot did. You collapsed for the hundredth fucking time that day. You’re so weak standing itself is a chore, just trying to get up is a hundred different exercises. Frustration broke your tears free as you laid on the ground again, the man caught up with you predictably fast. He had a crimson button up with the sleeves rolled back behind his elbows. And ragged blue jeans, finishing his look with faded brown cowboy boots.
He tried to help you up but you were too weak to stand on your own. You watered the dirt with your crying, attempting to howl.
“I-I have to get to her, he’ll hurt her I can’t-“
“Hey now…”
He tenderly cut you off, draping his left fingers on your shoulder ever so carefully. Making eye contact with you again as he instructed.
“Just breathe, and explain so I can help.”
You detected a note of frustration, a habit he has controlled so he could help you. After a couple of breaths created in your lungs and disposed of from out your body. You could comprehensively explain.
“My husband paid those men to kill me, and I don’t know what he wants with our daughter but it’s bad. I have to get there….”
The statement compelled you to rise to your feet, your muscles screaming below your skin you ignored. He stood up with you as you asked while attempting to walk. Your cheeks were caked in tears, dirt, and blush you tried to wipe off asking the man.
“Who are you?”
His immediate answer was a considering look, wondering wordlessly what to tell you. But in the end he drew the bandana off from his face. Revealing a blocky facial structure, filled with those dark almond eyes. Soft looking and beautifully toned brown skin, and nice full lips just above his chin. You just started to notice how tall he is, his shoulders alone dwarf you.
“You can call me Miguel…” You stopped yourself from staring longer at this gorgeous man. He was now whistling with two right fingers in his mouth. The pitch summoned a horse barreling towards both of you from down the path. Once in front of you both, he single handedly. Almost effortlessly lifted you onto the horse, as he soon followed in front taking the reins. He looked back at you with his bandana masking his appearance once again.
“Lead the way.” He huffed out from the fabric on his face.
~~A few hours later~~
Miguel had hitched the horse half a block away, as the two of you snuck around back to get your daughter. Mona, you always hear her name swimming in your mind. For as long as you’ve had her, she’s mattered more to you than breathing, sleeping, eating, and living.
Miguel used his bandana to muffle the sounds of the lock snapping under the pressure of his bare grip. You immediately push the door open, covertly moving about your own home. Evading the guards posted in the front of the house. Miguel followed your lead.
“I know an entrance to his office from here…”
He nodded wrapping the bandana around his face again, you scanned the area ahead of you before making a move. Miguel dutifully behind you all the while, certain he could tear through these guards like a hot knife through butter. But trusted your judgment and kept it low profile. Eventually you made your way to the downstairs kitchen just down the left hall from where you entered.
All the kitchen staff were off duty by this hour, once ensuring no guards would see you. You stood up from your squatting position. Opening up the two doors to the pantry, pushing aside from products and cans on the furthest left corner on the base board. You found the rusted over clicker, once you flipped the switch toward. A lever released behind it, opening the door from the outside in. Allowing the baseboard and the shelves attached to it holding all the food. Angle itself open, Miguel just kept watch as you got the entrance open.
You whispered, “okay get in.” Miguel cautiously escorted himself inside right behind you. As you minded the shelving to not drop anything that would leave a trail. Once you both walked into the cobblestone outer skeleton of your home. You grabbed the outer doors of the cabinet and shut them. Soon following with the second door, once shit in position. You pulled down the second lever on your end, locking it.
“It’s okay, no one can hear us in here..” you instructed, running past him up the stairs around the right corner. Miguel pursued asking “What is the plan when we find him?” You responded matter of factly “Kill him.” Miguel was shocked by your answer, you stopped dead in your tracks a couple steps above him. As the humid air closeted by the secret entrance sewed you two together, “What? Wanted to take him out for tea?” Your sarcasm cut an annoyed grimace on his face.
You went on your war path as the vagrant Miguel persisted in aiding you. Once the final step was in sight, struck above it was a faded brown door. You turned to Miguel as he was behind you.
“He’s probably in there, if you don’t want to help anymore. Just give me your gun.” You pointed to the silver pistol strapped to his left thigh. Miguel huffed “Well that’s awfully cynical, I followed you this far haven’t I?” You were dead set on rescuing your daughter from your insane husband. You didn’t calculate Miguel’s true intentions into this plan. For all you know he’ll expect your husband's property and money in return.
“And why have you?” Digging each of your hands into each side of your hips. Glaring down at him with a suspicious dig into his eyes from yours. But with his shoes rubbed against yours, standing one foot on the same step as you. Your faces now inches apart killed all your gusto.
“Because when I see someone in need, I help them. That’s what he-I do.” He whispered, the irony of utter sincerity emitting through his mask. The gaze of his eyes massages the tension from your body. You breathe out your stress, giving a trusting nod. He’s your best bet regardless, yet somehow you feel you won’t regret this “Alright.” You punctuated the interaction as you pushed open the door.
Miguel drew his gun to be ready to fight, but you all were stood up by an empty office. All of the furniture was removed, the smell of your husband's cologne alone revealed the move was recent.
“What?! Shit!” You relented in a panicked fury, “WHOSE THERE!?” Announced the arrival of one of his goons. A rifle in one arm as his other opened the door to the office. Without thinking Miguel pulled back the trigger to drive a bullet through his left eye. Staining the painting behind him with the insides of his eye.
You screamed out in shock, as the collective drumming of the rest of his guards feet against the floors of your former home. Could be heard beyond the walls of the office, commanding each other to get to the noise. You promptly shut the secret door to the office. That said panic faded into an icy resolution to get out of the house. Miguel read you like a book and just ran down the steps. Knowing the guards would see the door and soon follow. The plan was to be faster, racing out through the pantry shelves door. Not caring what litters the tiles as you race through the kitchen. Miguel stopped you before going down the hallway. Rightly so because a shotgun shell fires off a piece of the wooden walls right where your head used to be.
“I found em!” Presumably the one who fired the bullet cried out. He pushed his back against the wall at the hallways right corner, adjacent to where Miguel was doing the same. “I thought we killed that whore!” He slurs out at the other goons, swiftly making their way back downstairs to continue the fire fight.
The minute he left his cover, Miguel’s swift trigger finger and movement secured him the first shot into the man’s stomach. As he started to tumble from the shock, dropping his firearm. Miguel landed a second bullet through his neck. Miguel grabbed your hand, and ushered you down the hall. Skipping over the man’s dead body.
You two finally make it the mansion, luckily they didn’t think to post anyone outside. So you and Miguel book it to the opposite side of the hills resting just beyond your old property. With the vantage at the top of the curve, you spot your husband's carriage riding off along the bend of the road. You pointed and shouted, “THERE! That’s where she is! Has to be!” Miguel nodded and yelled “Alright let’s go!” Eventually making it to Miguel’s horse. Once you dug yourself around the saddle behind him, he rode off in haste towards the carriage.
A thin cloud of dust followed where Miguel’s horse trampled the road. The wind combing through your hair as the race towards the carriage was nearing its end. You saw the beating sun glare off of the gold ornament along the edges of the box on wheels. You told Miguel, “Just force it to stop!” Miguel nodded, once the clambering of his horses' hooves met beside the smooth travel of the wheels. Miguel unsheathed his claws, and struck once removing the wheel from the circled pillar.
The horses pushing the carriage against the elements squealed in shock. As the man driving it looked back, before Miguel could notice. You slide his shotgun strapped to the saddle. Aiming it right between where his face and right ear meet. A pull of the trigger flew his ear right off. The man fumbled backwards, gravity throwing him off the carriage. After a bump of the mechanics of the ride once it ran him over. He was buried by the brownish yellow dust of the road. Without hesitation you leapt for the driver's seat, grabbing hold of the leather lashes connected to the horses straps.
And whipping them to halt, digging a long shallow hole in the ground as the wheels were compelled to an immediate stop. Once you caught your breath, you sighed out plummeting your back to the back of the seat. Just to grant your body a steady flow of oxygen again. The last few hours have been a living nightmare.
And It got worse, as you saw your husband in the corner of your eye. Escorting Mona out of the carriage, forcefully folding his arm around her neck with the end of his revolver pressed through her hair. Miguel raised his own gun to meet your husband's silent threat.
“Thomas stop!” You screeched landing back on the ground. Mona’s face was torn in terror and shock.
“Mom why is he doing this-“ Mona blubbered out in a confused puddle of sweat and tears.
“Shut up! Be useful to me for once-“ he cut her off with a malicious and terrified wrinkle on his nose. Miguel calmly questioned your husband.
“How is killing her going to change what we do to you?” Somewhat muffled by his bandana once again, but with the winds politely quiet enough his meaning was clear as day regardless. Thomas struggled and fumbled for a plan, he was in the middle of nowhere. Far away from his goons, held up by one person with every reason to kill him. And another based on context has no reason to stop his death.
“One more fucking step and she gets her brains baked in the sun!” He cried out like a pig pending slaughter. You knew to tread carefully, he was stupid and weak. But not a man of empty threats, you and Miguel shared a wordless strategy. Simply to wait for the right time. For Mona’s head to slip down enough to make a shot for his head.
Until a shot goes off for you two, and your daughter Mona collapses to the ground. Except no smoke escaped from Thomas’s pistol, a vertical rain of bullets then fired at where you and Miguel stood. You also would’ve been hit had Miguel’s reflexes not kicked in. Shoving you by the hip behind where the carriage stopped.
He also had to hold you back from your sobbing and crying. Trying to wrestle free to make it to Mona’s body. Your screaming of her name was all you could hear. Staring at the blood caking her face as her expression was permanently ripped in a blank look of shock. White already eating away at her eyes as Thomas ran towards the gunfire. Shouting orders at his men who snuck behind you, in the ringing played by the gun shots. As every once of air leaves your body and not finding a way back in.
You didn’t focus on anything as everything in the world froze. Your daughter laid cooked by the summer sky. Already flies arrive at their feast of her flesh and blood. Tears wash away the sweat on your face, choking your throat further by evaporating any conscious or unconscious effort to breathe. All you did was sob. Miguel for a few moments leans your face towards his shoulder. His shirt is now stained in the aroma of your crying and sweating. But he didn’t mind at all, you didn’t bother to look up at his face of pity for you.
Miguel realized a second later he had to act alone, whistling his horse to fetch you two. Getting you in front, less likely to be hit. As he rained cover fire from behind. He whipped his horse to violently kick up the dirt beneath his hooves to go as fast as he could. You didn’t bother looking back despite your life hanging in the balance. You didn’t care to be honest.
~~One horse ride to Miguel’s cabin~~
The blur of passing greenery and road, the gunshots firing long faded into the harmless symphony of the frogs and crickets when night covered itself above the two of you. By that time you were out of tears, whether your exhausted body was too tired to do so. Or the ducts buried behind your eyes no longer had any left to spare. Miguel was behind you, still manning the horse as a cabin constructed from blackish brown wood met you two at the end of the path.
Walled off by thick forestry and wrapped in beautiful waves of fireflies set by the soft howling of far off coyotes. His home has thick clear windows, which filled the square of land set apart from the rest of the grounds. By a somewhat worn gray wooden fence, there were some attempts at flower gardening. You can’t tell yet but the seeds have been planted, and are poking out from the surface of the earth.
He gently pulls you off the horse after his boots meet the ground, not making you stand. He holds you with his left arm under your elbows, as his right tenderly pushes up your back. You instinctively huddle into his chest. Letting your eyes have a rest, you hear the opening of his front door. Taking off his shoes then your own, making his way up some stairs. Minding your head and feet poking out beyond his frame.
He then takes you to a fairly empty guest room, with a nice enough bed and a small doorless, empty closet. He lays you on top of the comforters, the white quilted blanket is a comfy spot for your body. Miguel considers speaking, the silence hangs like a dead person on a noose.
You want to help, but there’s nothing else to be done. And all you think to do is let them be. So Miguel leaves you in the cold. Not understanding how to help, not knowing if you’d want help. As such he closes the door behind him. Your eyes fall on the partially open window centered in the wall of your room in front of you.
“Never love an anchor” was what crept through your brain, as you closed your eyes again. Gently going to sleep.
#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara#18+#spiderverse#slow burn fic#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#angst#tw; child death#cowboy!miguel#cowboy au#spiderverse au#I’ll find you
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An analysis of WKTD and HWBM in relation to psychology, Christianity, and oppression.
Spoilers for almost all of We Know The Devil and parts of Heaven Will Be Mine (only stuff from when you play as Saturn tho that’s the only character I’ve played as so far)
This post is very much off the cuff so it is quite messy but I really needed to put my thoughts into words, I guess. Hopefully it makes sense, and sorry if there’s any errors!
vvv Analysis under the cut because this post is LONG vvv
Okay because when WKTD said “the devil is the shadow of man cast from the light of god” and when HWBM said that the Existential Threat was just a byproduct of the shadow of humanity cast from gravity (via humanity’s Culture) its like the enemy that humans want to fight is just themselves. The concept of the “shadow self” (also called the id, but I’ll be using shadow instead) in psychology refers to the parts of oneself that does not fully fit in with what society expects of them (Super-ego) and sometimes separately from the true self (Ego), typically leading to rejection of those aspects and self-conflict.
Now, please note that I haven’t 100%’d HWBM but I have 100%’d WKTD, and in that game the true ending results in the main trio all becoming devils and embracing those sides of themselves they’ve been running from for the entire game. The thing I quoted earlier is an actual line from the game said by god, the line following it being “the meaning of this phrase is that there is no devil.” Only through self-acceptance and helping each other alongside ourselves do we really reach the true ending to these stores.
While WKTD leans more towards individuals, HWBM puts more emphasis on the idea of the collective shadow; the story still focuses on individuals, yes, but is very much about the conflict between a humanity that is tearing itself apart over the things that don’t fit the collective image. The main conflicts of the story focuses a lot on that general unrest, and was initially the Existential Threat, but after that dissipated humanity still saw its own shadow, this time in itself. An email you can find in the game even says that “In abandoning Existential Threats to address the threats of our home, it will inevitably result in us turning to conflict between humans one more. And in turn, the Existential Threat will thrive.” The Existential Threat literally feeds on unrest and trauma, manifesting as paranoia and leading humanity to fight it, only for them to find that they were just fighting their own literal shadow.
It’s also important to note that HWBM briefly mentions that the Existential Threat is tangentially related to “their cousins on Earth, and even those are so weak kids with radios can take them out”. This, while it can easily be seen as a nod to WKTD for those who played it, the fact that the reference is super blatant (along with the mention of the Scout programs, likely referring to groups like the Summer Scouts from WKTD) leads me to believe that these two stories exist in roughly the same universe (or at least their worlds do, maybe not the characters present in the stories themselves existing at the same time*). This is for a very specific reason, and it has to do with the themes both of these games are tackling, regarding acceptance of the self, both on an individual and societal level, symbolized by the apple.
Both games reference the apple when talking about the idea of becoming something new, sometimes even beyond humanity. It’s about the embracing of the shadow and all the parts of yourself, seeing yourself as a whole being and accepting all of it. The joy and contentment brought upon yourself by finally letting go of all that repression and division, even if the world around you is going to perceive those parts as scary or ugly. Bad endings in these games are brought about by rejection of the self, which makes sense considering all the themes around queerness and transcending one’s humanity, so obviously and fittingly the true endings focus on healing oneself by accepting all of their aspects as part of the greater whole.
The apple in these stories, especially noticeable in its original thematic incarnation in WKTD, is in reference to the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden from the Bible. Man was forbidden from eating the fruit, but Eve (VERY important to note that the dev studio is named Worst Girls Games btw) is tempted by the serpent (was not originally the devil, but came to be in the New Testament) to eat the fruit, which they do and become aware of themselves. God banishes them from the garden for breaking this rule he set out for them, also punishing the snake in the process due to how it tempted Adam and Eve. This incident is referred to as the “original sin.”
What is interesting about this part of the Bible though is what God says at the end of Genesis 3, right before the banishment actually occurs: “And the Lord God said, ‘The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.’” The specific wording of “become like one of us” in the context of the apple metaphors from the games from Worst Girls Games is super intriguing to me, mostly due to how the idea of becoming something new is super common throughout these stories—becoming the devil in WKTD, and becoming one’s Ship-Self in HWBM.
There’s also the framing of the serpent in these stories, as well. The serpent in modern Christianity is almost always depicted as the devil, tempting humanity away from God throughout almost the entire scripture. In the book of Revelation, the devil is said to have gone to direct war against God and fighting against his angels; “Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fight back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.” These verses can easily be seen in parallel to WKTD, with how the devil forms are said to be unstable and her world more fickle than god’s, and how in HWBM the Ship-Selves are delicately maintained by the Lunar Gravity Well.
But here’s the thing: the framing of the devil in these stories puts it in the position of being correct, with humanity making the right choice to follow it. This may sound strange, almost like villain behavior, until you remember these games deal with themes regarding repression of the self under an oppressive society, which is why these societies tend to be characterized by Evangelical conservative Christianity. Under this lens, alongside the themes of queerness and transcending humanity (rising to the throne of god, in a way), everything begins to click into place. The idea of being forced to live a certain way by a society that hates parts of your very being is killing our main characters, and they want a way out. The personification of the Collective Unconscious (ex: the devil) gives them this out—even if it’s less concrete and stable than the known world (the light), the unknown world (the darkness) is what truly gives our characters the freedom they desire.
They cannot do this alone, however, as we see in the Bible further into the book of Revelation, when the devil is aided by a beast from the sea and a beast from the earth, all three of them holding one another up and emphasizing one another’s’ powers and authorities. This, of course, most likely is reflected in the games in the main trios we play as. While I am still unsure about specifics, I trust you guys enough to understand what I’m getting at here, even if my speculations are likely flimsy at best. Either way, the idea gets across—the true endings for the games can only be obtained if everyone supports one another properly.
The scripture states that the devil does not have long on earth to do what he wishes (“… [The devil] is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short.”), but that doesn’t stop him from trying at all. When it comes to the games, in WKTD the main trio stay in the cabin only for the night (player choices start at 7pm and the final one is at 1am, 2am onward being the ending you got, so choices go on for 6-7 in-universe hours), and in HWBM they have eight days to get back to earth before humanity declares them to be a threat. In both stories, our protagonists are all under strict time limits to do what they can in order to get the outcome they desire. As it’s said in WKTD, “the devil only ever gets one chance.”
Even though in the Bible the devil is ultimately defeated, in these games it’s the opposite. This is less about the theology they draw from and more having to do with undoing oppressive power structures through solidarity and community support while doing what you can to avoid infighting. Systems of hate and oppression are easily undone, which is why they put in so much work to scare you away from even trying to undo it and make you fall in line; resistance scares oppressors. Of course, resisting is not an easy task, but that’s just part of the work—they don’t call it a fight for no reason, after all.
Accepting all aspects of yourself and embracing that is the first small, yet very important step, to rejecting oppressive systems as a whole, and when society as a whole accepts what the system rejects, that system will inevitably fall, freeing those who are under it. Even though the world that comes after may be more uncertain and unstable that the last one, we still have each other to rely on and a foundation to build something greater and healthier than before.
So, roughly and basically…
Super-ego = God = Culture
Ego = Humanity (consistent throughout both games)
Projection = Light = Gravity
Resistance = Radio = Ship-Self
Shadow (personified by Collective Unconscious) = The Devil = Existential Threat
Acceptance (of the Shadow) = Apple (consistent throughout both games), characterized by devil possession forms and Ship-Selves (Ship-Selves are dual natured like that, I think)
… Or something like that. I dunno, I’m not a psychologist.
Once again, I have seen all of WKTD, so I can say these things concretely about that story. However, I have not seen all of HWBM, so it more so feels like I’m making guesses as to what happens in that one, so just bear with me. I’ll be super hype if I’m correct in my theory/analysis.
*On this note, it is very amusing to me to imagine the WKTD trio as space mech pilots. The idea of the main cast of HWBM having to deal with devil possessions is also very fun :3
Sources for information + screenshots I’m referencing
Wikipedia: Shadow (psychology) (links throughout the article lead to other things I’ve mentioned like the Collective Unconscious)
Bible Gateway: Genesis 3, Revelation 12, Revelation 13 (New International Version)
(from WKTD) (not my screenshot, stole this from my friend) (hi Ash <3) (platonic)
(I don’t have a screenshot of the line that comes afterwards or the line talking about the metaphorical apple in the epilogue of the true ending but I know they’re there. I have it in my brain. I’m too lazy to get a picture of it just trust me I know what I’m talking about trust)
(from HWBM) (screenshots taken by me)
(I don’t have absolutely everything either just work with me here sorry)
#rambles#hwbm#wktd#analysis#sorry guys I had a category 10 autism event and needed to get this out of my system#we know the devil#heaven will be mine
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This may be specific but I also think it would be kind of cute
Okay so Eyeless Jack x reader who is like pretty intimidating looking and always keeps a stoic expression on and also really tall
Then he gets to know them and it's like "Oh you're not scary, just ✨️traumatised✨️" because they only show emotions to those they trust
Like they will glare at someone who said something mean then be all lovey dovey to Jack but still a little reserved cause they're still new to the whole "wow someone actually loves me"
Could you make 2 versions? One being platonic and the other being romantic (also reader just straight up denying that Jack is insecure cause how could he? He's the definition of perfection in their eyes)
Eyeless Jack x stoic!reader whos sweet to him (?)
i must admit it took me a little while to think of some ideas for this prompt, my apologies for the delay </3 i also wasnt too sure what to title this TToTT
but regardless i hope you enjoy this! even through the struggle for ideas, i gotta admit, this idea is adorable esp since i personally write jack to be more self loathing
mainly written as platonic but there is a segment at the end for romantic hcs ! easier than to write two separate full fledged sections!
uhuh light CW for implied SH on ejs part since the admin thinks that while jack is slowly descending into his whole.. demon thing hes physically and mentally fighting with himself to remain lucid; nothing explicitly written but id rather be safe than sorry
honestly i think it might take him a good hot minute to really let you treat him like hes deserving of anything more than a scowl, especially if he sees how you act around other people... because why him, of all people? there are people better for you
yet he doesnt stop you from coming to his cabin in the woods, he doesnt stop you from doing some work around the place so its safer and more habitable for him, he doesnt stop you from patching up his clothing and washing them. why doesnt he stop you? he knows he doesnt deserve it...
he almost hates the way you look at him sometimes, if you look at him with pity. like hes some lost dog needing someone to take care of him
he doesnt need help, hes been doing this whole thing by himself for a long time now and he hasnt needed anyone
and yet
he doesnt push you away when you go in to clean his face after a particularly nasty fight with himself
you even run a warm bath for him
its been so long since hes been warm
i like to think that he tries to seek you out when you dont come to visit him for a few days.. did something happen to you? were you hurt? sick? did someone do something to you? did you move away? where did you go...?
wont ever admit it but i think hes at least a little starved for a connection, sure hes a hermit and he was already closed off before he started turning into this man eating monster, but deep down he still has his human roots in there kicking, and humans thrive on connections... in the truest sense, he needs you. not sexually or carnally or romantically, he just needs someone to talk to him to keep him from going truly mad
finds himself thinking about you more than hed like to admit, even if he doesnt have any romantic feelings for you hes going to beat himself up. he came here to his silly little cabin in the woods to get away from people for everyones sake; only coming out when he needs to 'hunt'
its like befriending a stray cat, i think. they hiss and swipe at first but overtime they try to cuddle up to you if you give them enough time to build up that trust
admin likes to think he has pointed ears, and i think that they would twitch a little if he sees a smile forming on your face...
as for romantics....
i think he would look at where you walked off to, to go home... longing, almost daring himself to go after you or say something because he cant stand spending another night alone in the woods
leaves you gifts, anonymously, but leaving them none the less. if you ask if he was the one who left them hes not going to admit it, you can imply that you know it was him, but he will hold firm in his denial
building off of the ear idea, he totally gives himself away when he starts blushing... he looks like the type to have his blush reach his ears... not too mention the flicks dont make it any less discrete,,,
even he doesnt notice it, but he tries to make excuses for you to stay around longer during hang out sessions, stopping just short of offering to watch the grass grow
i think this would feed into his self loathing, though. in my eyes, jack was dragged into a human sacrifice unwillingly and unknowingly. his life was robbed away from him, he was robbed of ever having a normal life with you... you deserve better, he thinks. very heavy shit, you know? i think it leads to his mental state being even worse than before
god i had intentions of going into this with fluff but this just came out angstier than my middle school ocs TToTT
#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x you#eyeless jack x reader#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack headcanon#eyeless jack imagine#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta imagine
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STICK SEASON matt sturniolo
genre: angst and just a bit of fluff at the end
summary: you have some unfinished business with someone you’ve missed more than you’d like to admit
cw!: self deprecation i think?
a/n: feeling very Noah Kahan ish
I went to Vermont to my parents house in a desperate attempt to find some comfort in anything, my childhood house came close to what I needed, even if the sad pink wallpaper pasted on my wall was peeling off, the bed, rusty, and the springs tired of supporting groups of chatting girls, or the mirror dusty from not having anyone stare into it to do their makeup for a while now, it still brought me a little bit of relief to have proof that I was once in a better place.
But now it was time to go “home” or at least what used to be home, now home has a different meaning. I’ve always struggled with selfishness, always having angry tendencies so I directly remove myself from the situation in order to avoid any nuisance I might provoke. Matt helped me. He saw the good in me as I saw the good in him, showing me that yelling isn’t the only way one can be heard, gentle words, whispers and sighs, worked effortlessly with him, everything envolving him meant being engulfed endlessly in light and sweetness. Now I’m stuck between the anger and the blame I can’t face, I tried to just remove myself from the situation.
“We can fix this please, I can fix this, I can change”
“I know you can, but I can’t be here, I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself, I’m tired of this”
That’s when he just drove off and left our future to the right. Rightfully so, I tend to play the victim, I’m trying to change, for him.
The phone dials again and the familiar voicemail appears, he used to call me forever now he can’t even call me back. I’m in Boston and I don’t think they’re home, but I’m terrified of knocking on their door.
Until I wasn’t. My body suddenly became 10 times heavier as I tried to drag myself to their doorstep, tempted to just run off and catch the next plane to nowhere. But I had to do this, for him, for me.
knock, knock, knock
One, two, three
The door opened and I was greeted with a very surprised Matt, he looked different from when I had seen him last, not in a bad way.
“what are you doing here” He blatantly said, quickly, he realized how brute he’d been and rectified his wording
“-i’m sorry, Hey y/n, what brings you…here?” He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as I began talking, it seemed my voice startled him, after all, it had been some time.
“I wanted to talk to you” I said, trying not to seem too stern. I had a habit of making situations more complicated then they had to be. He sighed and opened the door for me to walk through, the smell of bath and body works candle Nick bought for one of their videos (i’m sorry icba to use the pink sands reference) brought me back to the long movie sessions we’d have on their family couch, Mary Lou would bring us christmas cookies grannies would buy, I bought those last week, they didn’t taste the same.
“so um- long time…” He said walking behind the couch, creating some distance between us. He put his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, I don’t think he was very happy to see me.
“yeah” I bit my inner cheek. Id come here to talk but I couldn’t seem to find any words right now, I wish it could be like it used to be, I wouldn’t have to say anything, he’d know what was wrong, he’d find the words for me.
“Matt I-” I took a deep breath and tried not to make a joke out of myself. “I know I have no right to show up at your doorstep unannounced, well I did call you but- that’s not the point. I’m sorry, yes that’s what I wanted to say, I’m sorry, and I’m sorry for fucking everything up and showing up in your life again and that’s not fair but I needed you to know I’m not a bad person, I’ve made mistakes and I can’t even say how sorry i am for hurting you in any way possible but I think about you everyday. I mean I see you everywhere, I see you when It rains, I see you when I discover a new song then I remember you recommended it to me, and I mean, I think what we had, what at least I thought we had, was something, you know? Now i see you mother and she doesn’t even remember me.” I inhaled sharply, my words spewing faster than I could breathe. I couldn’t figure out what Matt was thinking, if it was good or bad, well, I think in this situation it couldn’t be very good, one can hope.
A minute of silence passed by, the only sound that filled it was our steady-ish breaths, we looked at each other as if we were having a telepathic argument, however that would work, I thought telling a joke would ease the tension, I missed his laugh, maybe I’d get to hear it once again, but I don’t think i’m funny anymore.
“y/n…” My eyes were wide as I clawed into the couch in anticipation, not knowing if the next hour I would spend crying or whatever the other option was.
"I missed you too" his words were doubtful, he questioned himself, uncertain in wether he meant them or not.
“yes, I missed you. Maybe that’s bad, maybe I’m just a masochist, that, or you’re just engraved in my brain” He chuckled, his laughed remained the same, at least some things are how I remembered.
“so…you don’t hate me?” I said cautiously, analyzing his words in my mind to see if he really said what he said.
“I don’t think so, I’ve never hated you I don’t think. I couldn’t hate you, y/n, even if I tried, and trust me, I tried” His words almost seemed fake as I tried to fathom them, a puzzled look on my face that seemed to amuse Matt.
I nodded, not quite knowing what to respond just yet, or how to continue with the conversation. Figuring out any hidden meaning behind his slight smile, maybe everything was just really in my head, well, at least some part of it.
“I told Mary Lou you were going to be in town, I listened to you voicemails” He paused, looking away, almost embarrassed.
“I was nervous for you to come, I didn’t know how to feel exactly…But I definitely haven’t forgotten about you, the other day Chris accidentally bought two hats online, one was yellow, your favorite colour, is it still you favorite? Well, Nick reminded us”
I smiled. It was weird to hear that my name was thrown around in foreign conversations, I thought it may be a taboo here.
“It is. I’m glad, was Chris able to return the hat?” I said, thinking I sounded stupid to get that from the conversation instead of the important part, I tried to spark conversation.
“I kept it.” He said quietly, I smiled, a feeling of pity lingered in my stomach.
“I know this might be a long shot but, do you maybe want to get lunch, or coffee, or something with me? I’m in town till next week, if you want of course” I said, trying not to fumble my words, hoping to make things work, or just at least leave them a little better.
“sure”
A sudden childish excitement filled me, a feeling I had missed so dearly, a feeling I had when I was with Matt, as I could see.
“ok, text me?” I tilted my head, hopeful, relieved when he nodded. Saying things like this so casually still unsettled me slightly but I’ll try to ignore the feeling.
I guess lunch it is.
taglist: @gaytoadwithapopsicle @dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @20nugs @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @stvrni0lo @ssturniolo @ifilwtmfc @gabbylovesreading @lvrsparadise @strniolo
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his birthday, his shitty navigation skills, and your paranoia! — c.sc
pairing. choi seungcheol x gn!reader
genre. fluff, a bit of panicking and reader overthinking and being paranoid.
summary. when your boyfriend trusts his ability to get his way around an unknown area, you can expect that all goes to shit.
warnings. none really :/
a/n. this is so poorly written i'm so sorry 😭. also happy (belated) birthday, seungcheol (aka my pookie 🫶🫶🫶)
wc. 1.1k
“those falls over there, they lead to–” you turn to notice that once again, seungcheol is not beside you. “oh my god.” you groan, rubbing your temple in an attempt to remember where you last saw him out of the corner of your eye, snacking on some shrimp chips he bought after lunch.
walking back to the café you both were previously at, you look around, hoping to find your boyfriend just wandering around the café, waiting for you to find him again. to your dismay, seungcheol was nowhere to be found, and knowing seungcheol, he trusted his poor navigation skills once again and got himself lost.
pulling out your phone, you dial his phone number, hoping that his phone was on ringer mode. as your phone rang on, your heart sinks as the line goes to voicemail, the panic settling in.
“fuck, where did this kid go?” you whisper, sending him a message to reply with his whereabouts.
you're startled when jeonghan’s caller id pops up, yelping out loud and making a few eyes turn to you. apologising and bowing, you walk away to pick up the call.
“jeonghan, we have a problem.” you mumble as soon as you slide the green icon, pressing the phone up to your ear.
“what? why?” he replies in a confused tone.
“i lost seungcheol.”
complete silence is heard on the other side of the line as you bite your nails—a habit that you never seemed to shake off, and a habit that seungcheol seemed to dislike, explaining that it’s not good for you and he loves seeing your nails “long and pretty”.
“y/n, what do you mean you lost–”
“I LOST SEUNGCHEOL.” you hiss. “i went out with him for brunch like you wanted me to, then we went to a café nearby and just chilled for a bit, before we went on a little stroll for fun! i don’t know how i lost him but i did!” you ramble, your breathing quickening as you take in the situation. possible scenarios pop up into your brain as you try to control your breathing, and it only induces your panic.
“y/n, honey. i need you to calm down first, and i want you to know that seungcheol just called me and said he’s at some park, so breathe.” you calm down when you heard that he was at least someplace safe and public. “second, he said he doesn’t know where the fuck he’s at and he sounds pretty scared which is really fucking funny when he prides himself in his apparently wonderful fucking navigation skills so that’s something to laugh about.” you hear jeonghan snicker on the other end of the line, making you roll your eyes.
“jeonghan, let him live, won’t you? he’s just…”
“full of himself? fuck yeah he is.” you scoff as you shake your head. “you’re so mean.” you chuckle. “alright. i’ll see if there’s any parks nearby and call you guys back if i find him.” you say before you cut the call and start walking around.
—
you’re now on the verge of tears when you approach a park full of children, all happily running around and sliding down slides.
you walk over to a nearby bench, shoving your head into your hands as you silently sob. you’ve never really been away from seungcheol like this in the 4 years you’ve been with him. well, yes you have, but you never lost him like this. you’d always manage to find him within an hour or so, and now, it’s been almost 3 hours since you lost seungcheol. there was no doubt that you were scared now. as more time passed by, the worse the scenarios in your head grew.
what if he got distracted by a dog on the street and got himself bitten? what if he met up with a friend and went on a coffee date with them, only to find out that he was a bad person and he hurt him? what if someone tried robbing him? what if he got hurt? what if–
the sound of a familiar giggle pulled you out of your thoughts, and you immediately look up.
lo and behold, your boyfriend, choi seungcheol, was playing around with some 5-year-olds on the playground, pushing them on the swings and laughing along with the children.
immediately getting up, you sigh out in relief and run over to seungcheol, tackling him in a hug and completely losing it.
“woah!” he laughs out, bringing one arm over your shoulder as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “youdon’tknowhowlongittookformetofindyouiwassosca–”
“hey, hey.” seungcheol pulls out of the embrace and holds you by your shoulders and bends down to your eye level, bringing his hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tear that had fallen, adorning a stupidly dopey smile on his lips which almost immediately washed away all the anxiety and fear that once coursed through you.
slinging your arms around his neck once again, you held him tight as you planted a fat kiss on his cheek, making him giggle like a schoolboy as he snaked his arms around your waist, pressing you close to him. “i don’t even know how i lost you, baby.” seungcheol murmured into your hair as he squeezed your waist in a reassuring manner.
scrunching your eyebrows, you pull away and look up at your boyfriend, and he looks back at you, feigning an innocent face with playful nature underneath it. “you got lost yourself and you know that, you son of a–”
“ah! there are children here.” seungcheol presses his index finger on your lips, effectively hushing you. out of the corner of your eye, you spot jeonghan and joshua waving towards the two of you and making faces that clearly indicated that we have to get the fuck out of here because the restaurant reservation we made is in less than 10 minutes and we are 10 minutes away from the goddamn restaurant.
“cheol, honey.” you mumble, noticing that seungcheol was clearly leaning in for a kiss, despite the young audience around you. he hums, still leaning in, and you pull away, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you point behind him, and he turns, groaning when he notices the two.
“oh god,” he pinches his nose bridge. “they planned something and now they're late for it? what's it for? my birthday?” you slowly nod, sheepishly smiling. seungcheol widens his eyes as he connects the dots, and gasps.
“YOU WERE IN ON THIS?!”
“...happy birthday?”
tags 🏷️ –
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#🏃♀️ — nini's tracking thingy#💎 — svt#🍒 — cheol#k labels#caratsland#preciousillusionsnet#cacaokpop#seventeen#svt seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol fluff#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#idk what the ending is omg#its so bad 😭#i rushed this at 1AM yall don't blame me#my brain is#ew
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ed holiday survival guide
what to bring:
all of this should fit, with extra space, in a large purse. a backpack also works if you need more space.
3 cans of diet soda, 2 of your usual and 1 special one you dont normally buy. if youre sleeping over, take 3-4 of your usual. save the special one for dinner to help you avoid eating.
2 bottles of your favorite water, 3 if youre sleeping over.
of course, a low cal snack like a granola bar in case you feel like youre going to faint. you dont wanna pass out in front of all those people and family members you barely know! bring 2-3 if youre sleeping over or get faint easily.
a few cans of of your favorite energy drink, however many you need to seem alive and well. im taking 4. if you dont like energy drinks, you better hope they have a Keurig or you can get to a starbucks.
napkins or paper towels and a plastic bag. if you can get away with having your purse at the table, line a pocket with a plastic bag. then use your napkin to dispose of your unwanted food into the bag. this can also work with a hoodie pocket, but its riskier. at the end of the dinner, zip up the bag and now it wont get you all gross while you wait for a chance to throw it away.
obvy your phone to sneak under the table and post updates on tumblr.
dont bring any money or cards, unless you need your ID or to buy starbucks or something. in that case, bring only your ID and the exact amount you need for your starbucks.
tips:
dont purge. theyll probably hear you. just avoid eating, and if you really need to, have a metab day beforehand so you do not eat/binge. you dont know what kind of calories are in all that food
choose the lowest cal option available, obvy. your best bet is salad or plain vegetables. if those arent an option, go for turkey, as long as it isnt sitting in a pool of liquid. if that isnt an option, just eat cranberry sauce. fr.
make sure you get a tiny portion of whatever youre eating. like, the total food on your plate should be no bigger than the size of your fist, just in case your lose control and start actually eating. you dont want to ask for more! ew.
make sure you do the classic of chewing constantly. take tiny bites and just do not stop chewing.
popping in a secret piece of gum can help with the last tip a lot esp if its mint. cuz then the food will taste weird if you do decide to eat.
unless its something like salad or cranberry sauce from a can, account for at least 2tbsp of butter when youre calculating your cals.
if you cant estimate the calories in a way you find satisfying, ask for the recipe. calculate the calories, and if you had guessed under initially, make sure you add that same amount of cals to everything else you have to calculate. its probably the sneaky butter messing you up anyway.
best outfit: shirt that shows off your body, an oversized hoodie, and slightly baggy pants. do not wear the hoodie at all till just before dinnertime, then put it on to cover up any bloating. that or just wear it the whole time and do not take it off at all.
wear tall shoes! i am very lucky to have platform boots, and i will be wearing them. they'll make you taller, obvy, so even if youre a bigger ana (like me), youll look lankier and more "proportional"
act like youre wiping your mouth, but really youre doin chew and spit into a napkin, ofc! BUT carbs begin digestion in your mouth, meaning you will consume calories if you chew and spit carbs. AVOID ALL CARBS!!
will update if i think of more tips <3
#tw ana diary#ed not sheeren#thinspø#tw ed rant#i wanna be weightless#meanspø#th1n$po#tw ana fast#4n0r3xia#⭐️ving#⭐️ve#ana trigger#ana rant#low cal diet#4n4t1ps#tw ana shit#4n4blr#ed not ed sheeran#3d f4st#4norexi4#ana meal#tw disordered eating#tw restrictive ed#anorex14#pro for myself#ed meals#ed safe space#ed bllog#ed relapse#th1nsp1ration
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Verbal Terminology in Autistic Tumblr Survey Results
After quite a long while (and for that I apologise) I’ve finished the results of a survey about the descriptivist uses of the terms Nonverbal/Non-Speaking and Semiverbal/Semi-Speaking in Tumblr’s Autism Community. This survey was originally intended to cover more, and just be a fun side project that unfortunately ended up with many flaws throughout the whole process. I'll go into specifics more at the end in the “Further Notes” section!
All that to say, I heavily implore you to do your own research and listen to others outside of this survey about these terms. Admittedly I think this survey is best taken as a small peek into how a very small group of people currently use these terms, in a fun non-informational survey format. (Also this was my first time doing image ids, so well i tried my best they might be really bad and for that i apologise in advance!!)
Demographic Questions
[image id: a bar graph called “What Would You Call Yourself” with the options going top to bottom the graph says Nonverbal at 16 (3.5%), Semiverbal at 118 (25.9%), Someone Who temporarily Loses Speech or Temporarily Can’t Talk at 308 (67.7%), Verbal or At allistic Level at 171 (37.6%), and Hyperverbal at 95 (20.9%) end id]
First things first I looked at the different ways survey respondents identified personally, and at a base level we can see most people said they had varying speech levels. The next highest given types overall were Semiverbal and Speaking Autistics, with Nonverbal being the least used term among survey participants. Due to this being multiple choice I also looked at what group of responses where most common:
[image id: a bar graph of Unique Term Use Types. The highest is Temporary Only at 141 respondents. The next Highest is VT (Verbal and Temporary) at 60, followed closely by Verbal Only at 59. The rest in order of highest to lowest is Semiverbal Only at 41, ST (Semiverbal and Temporary) at 33, TH (Temporary and Hyperverbal) at 29, Other Combinations at 21, VTH (Verbal, Hyperverbal, and Temporary) at 19, Hyperverbal Only at 18, SVT and STH and VH are all tied at 8, SV (Semiverbal and Verbal) at 6, and finally Nonverbal Only at 4 respondents. end id]
This graph more clearly shows that a majority of responders would consider their verbal speech levels to change, but only a minority of that group also considers themself Semi or Non-Verbal. You can all also see how a majority of responders considered themself either as just temporarily losing speech or a combination group using the Verbal option, which highlights a potential bias in the future questions. (Also the other section is for all combinations that got under 1% of respondents individually!)
[image id: A pie chart pf praticapent’s age groups. The highest at 56% is 18-29 year olds, with 13-17 place at 38.2%. The rest have the percents cut off but in order are 30-29, Under 13, and then 40+ year olds. End id]
Most responders fell in the age ranges of 13-29. This seems to follow general Tumblr trends after a quick search, but possibly leans a few years younger then the general user base. The lack of older adults taking the survey is unfortunate as some of these terms have been around for a while, and it’s always a plus to get an all ages response on surveys like these.
[image id: A pie chart titled “Where did you find the survey”, The top choice being “Another Tumblr Blog” at 59.1%, and the 2nd “Nd Culture Is” at 37.1%. You can see the slices for “From Someone I Know” and various Other Responses in the pie chart, with the other responses blurred out in the index sheet. end id]
This graph is admittedly a bit worthless, as I made it before deciding where I was going to post the survey to, so a decent amount of people, both those who selected “Another Blog” or Other mentioned getting it straight from the og post or a reblog of it. So needless to say i wasn’t quite exact enough by what i meant in this question (which was to see how far it spread vs any bias from just my “in-group” so to say), but it does does imply that that the survey didn’t make it far from the groups I posted it in. Which is expected with how little "promoting" was done during the survey period.
NonVerbal / NonSpeaking
[image id: a multiple bar graph showcasing the correlation between how responders self identified vs how they define Nonverbal. Going from top to bottom is The Fully Always option chosen by 3 from Nonverbal Only, Masking with no chosen responses, Little to No Speech at 2 from Nonverbal and other Terms Users, Allow Temporary at 9 from Nonverbal and other Term Users plus 7 from Nonverbal and Temporary and an intentional Nonverbal Only Responder, then All Above with 1 Nonverbal and Temporary plus a Nonverbal Plus Response, Followed lastly by Other Definitions with no responses. End id]
Before going over this data I want to reiterate that the survey had very few nonverbal people taking it, so this data is not going to be all possibly not even most, nonspeaking people’s option on defining those terms. Next The N Plus section on the graph includes the N and T groups as well as other responders who marked themself with more than just the Nonverbal role. That said it seems that the greater community tends to lean towards the “Someone who has periods or is always not able to speak and/or can't speak well” option, and well quite a few nonverbal autistics agree, there’s a group especially among those who only consider themselves nonverbal who prefer defining it as those who always can’t speak fully ever. This matches with trends i’ve personally seen in the nonverbal tags of nonverbal people preferring definitions that centre on the lack of verbalness, even completely or most of the time vs speaking autistics using more broader terms, but again with such a lack of nonspeaking people involved there is no solid reliability to the data.
SemiVerbal / SemiSpeaking
[image id: a multiple bar graph showcasing the correlation between how respondents self identified vs how they define Semiverbal. Going from top to bottom is Partly All with 8 from Semiverbal Only plus 7 Semiverbal and Temp and 10 from Semiverbal Plus, Next is Inbetween with 24 from Semiverbal Only and 42 from Semiverbal and Temp plus 53 from Semiverbal Plus, Lose Speech has 5 from Semiverbal Only plus 6 from Semiverbal and Temp and 8 from Semiverbal Plus,All Above with 2 from both Semiverbal and Temp plus Semiverbal Only, Context-Based with no responses, and finally Other with 1 from Semiverbal Only plus 2 from Semiverbal and Temp and 3 from Semiverbal Plus. end id]
Like The Nonverbal Section, The S Plus section on the graph includes the S and T groups as well as other responders who marked themself with more than just the Semiverbal role. Otherwise, from this graph we see an overall trend of including anybody “between nonverbal and verbal” regardless of how the respondents identified themself. There also seems to be less of a disconnect between those who are semiverbal vs the greater community when compared to the results of Nonverbal, although whether that is a bias of the survey or a general trend is hard to tell. Most respondents who chose Other seem to have given either an all of the above answer (which I might have manually included???) or mentioned a definition using the idea of always struggling with speech but at different levels.
Further Notes
One thing I really wish I had done was involve more nonverbal and semiverbal people in the whole process of making this, i think looking back there’s definitely moments were you could tell this was made by a speaking autistic and I really didn’t do nearly enough to include and uplift the voices of those who this survey was literally about. In a similar vein I forgot about pretty much every non-autistic community who uses these terms, but also didn’t make it clear enough that it was unintentional, leaving not only countless voices unheard but accidentally ostracising those whose voices are equally as important as what this survey managed to cover.
Alongside that I was very unclear in what some questions meant to the point even future-me wasn’t sure what the data was for, plus I bit off much more than I could chew, making for a messy at best survey experience. As such survey taker’s might notice not every question was given space here, and that is simply because I couldn't process the data in a timely manner.
I did however let people opt-in to sharing further notes about how they use these terms and will share some of those under the read more with no individual commentary so as to let people speak fully for themselves:
There is a gap in the language available to describe autistic difficulties with speech. Verbal should describe the ability to use language, written or spoken, but in the context of neurodivergency almost always describes speech only. Non-speaking would be a more appropriate term and would free up nonverbal as a term for autistics who struggle with written and spoken English (as in syntax or language in general, not spelling). This has been talked about in high support need circles but is not mainstream.
I think we should look to the wheelchair users for language design, specifically the differences with the language around full time wheelchair user and ambulatory/part time wheelchair user
i wish mostly speaking people would find other ways of explaining their experiences without using nonverbal/nonspeaking people's language. we already have a much harder time communicating and when our language is taken or used in different ways that makes people confused about the meaning and they assume that the experience of mostly speaking people is the same as mostly or fully nonverbal/nonspeaking people. when actually the overall experience is very different
I am not sure exactly where I fit within being verbal but losing speech and struggling to speak almost always, or if I am semiverbal. I think the lines between all of these terms can be blurry, but I think it's bad how verbal autistics who lose speech occasionally (and often talk about being able to push through this and force themselves to speak - which is how I feel almost all the time) have taken these terms which makes it very hard to find content from people whose experiences with speech are similar to mine or who are nonverbal. I think it's connected to how in general lower support needs autistics take most of the space in the autistic community and it can feel isolating for people like me who are higher support needs.
And well this survey was about English specifically, I want to share what this survey respondent said about how the terms work in their language and how that affects their usage of these terms:
third of all: the alternatives to that, such as "losing speech", "having verbal shutdown", or "going mute"... simply do not work in some languages. and as proof, let me show you my beautiful native language, that being ukrainian!
"losing speech" = our word for speech equals our word for talk. when losing speech, i CAN talk - but not by using my voice.
"verbal shutdown" = our word for shutdown is not being used in the same way as in english and there is no good alternatives.
"going mute" = our word for mute has a very long and complicated and problematic history, and is not something most people would be comfortable saying!
so, that means that i am left with absolutely no phrases to use in my language - because the only one, that being "going/becoming non-verbal" which is translatable and has the same meaning - is not an option anymore.
#survey#neurodivergent#actually neurodivergent#actually autistic#long post#cw long post#emri.exe#i'm still not certain if this is actually legible as one long ass Tumblr post#and not a reblog chain but that was much harder mechanically to make in advance :/
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