#at least in society as it exists currently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creatingblackcharacters · 2 months

Text

“That One Hairstyle? RETIRE IT!” Black Hair is an Art (pt.1)

(This is part one of two lessons, with this one focusing on how our hair itself! The next lesson will encompass how to incorporate its existence into your writing. It'd be a massively long post otherwise.)

So! Black hair. Black hair is a CENTRAL, ESSENTIAL part of our culture and identity. Writing and drawing it means understanding the vulnerability and trust that comes with access to it, and yes, it is racist to suggest that ‘it’s just hair’ when our hair serves such an important role in our history and art. I already wrote a mini-lesson and ask on the topic, but being aware of what our hair looks like, and what means to us, will help you to understand why we care that you put in the effort to get it right.

Hair Textures

We are not a genetic monolith! However, for the sake of this series, we are focusing on 3C-4C, because 1) it's most likely to be seen in life and 2) least likely to be seen in popular art! When you are creating your characters, consider the style and care for THESE textures. I will get more into this next lesson.

Let's get into SOME of the hairstyles!

Afros (36 Afro Hairstyles)

“So, what’s the phenomenon behind the Afro? Well, it’s our hair in its most natural form, but that’s only part of the phenomenon. It’s a way to fight the status quo without saying a word.”

-Ebony Magazine, The History of the Afro

When nonBlack society hears ‘afro’, they think completely picked out, Black power imagery, political statement. And it was, and is! But in actuality, afros are just the natural hair growing out of a Black person's head. The same way your hair grows out of your head. Our texture. Even my hair is not allowed to be ‘hair’, it has to ‘assign’ my Blackness; my distance from whiteness. Imagine, the hair growing out of your head being automatically associated with how you should be perceived. Just by existing, it is making a statement in a Eurocentric society.

Braids (31 Braid Styles)

There are SO MANY TYPES of braids and ways to wear them. If you can imagine a design, I bet there's a Black braider that can do it!

CORNROWS ARE NOT AUTOMATICALLY BRAIDS! Internalize this! They may be used in the same style, but they are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE TERMS!

Braids are considered a protective style; that is, a hairstyle designed to let our hair 'rest' and grow without having to manipulate it. If you have a Black character that's constantly on the go and/or doesn't have time to focus on their hair, and you want an accurate, more true-to-life experience for them, braids can be a crucial part of character design.

Locs

(Yes, while that link has plenty of examples, it was also self-indulgent. Locs are gorgeous, Black men with locs are gorgeous!)

"Locs vs Dreads": As someone in the loc community, there’s been a push to refer to the style as ‘locs’, rather than ‘dreadlocks’. Some people with the style will not care, but others take it very seriously, so it’s something to keep in mind. There’s a societal stigma behind having locs, that they’re ‘dirty’ or ‘unkempt’ or ‘lazy’ and that is NOT true. Locs are beautiful, and they take far more effort than people seem to want to believe lmao.

Locs, though there is currently a positive revival, are still highly discriminated against. Kids have been expelled from school and even have had their hair forcibly cut off to be allowed to participate in sports. Many places won't hire you if they think your hair is 'unprofessional' or 'dirty', especially if you're a Black woman. To consider yet another example of the hair that grows out of my head 'dirty' is extremely racist.

LOCS ARE NOT BRAIDS!!!!

Locs are also a protective style, albeit a much more permanent one, and one that comes with a long history and culture behind it. Many Black people consider the biblical story of Samson to be a man with locs, and that our locs hold power within them. That not just anyone should be allowed to touch your locs. So, if you're interested in mythology and powers, that might be an intriguing way to go, that would be possible if you had a Black character with locs!

In Professional Media

The lack of awareness and concern about our hair isn't just a fan or amateur creator experience. It is ubiquitous in the professional media world. Black actors, actresses, and models have discussed having to do their own hair when working, because no one would properly care for it on set if it wasn't familiarly white. It’s admittedly grown better- however! After decades of not having options other than ‘stereotypical afro’, ‘box cut’, and ‘white people hair’, it is LONG PAST TIME to stop settling for the bare minimum in Black character design. We can tell when "one of us" (with some sense, at least) wasn't in the room to make decisions in popular media.

If you were curious about the lesson title, here's a current example of what I'm talking about in video games. Tell me if you see a pattern:

This style? The Killmonger? We seent it!!!! It has become the “hairstyle to show I understand the exaggerated swagger of a young Black teen” option, the "I know the Black people!" go-to, and frankly, we are all tired of it. Okay it was cute on Ekko. The Black Delegation DEMANDS the professional video game industry pick something else! We have SO MANY DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLES!

I'll give you an example on the other end (not trying at all; refer to Lesson 1) from one of my favorite games, Hades:

This is my blorbo. My favoritest guy. I’ll fight for Patroclus being Black til the day I die. While I begrudgingly settled in my excitement, I can tell you no one Black with any voting power was in the room at Supergiant when they approved this design. Why? His texture! Locs were such an easy option if they wanted long hair! Locs existed BEFORE Ancient Greece! The man did not have a flat iron while fighting in a war! A good Black designer would have considered that!

To give him a more accurate design, some artists (myself included) lean into giving him locs (one of my favorites is @karshmallow 's Pat; a phenomenal example in caring about your Black characters). It’s something Black fans find themselves doing- redesigning Black characters. That's not something we should have to do at all, especially in media we pay for!

But if you REALLY want your Black character to have straight hair, that leads into the last style of this lesson:

Straight Hair

We do have straight hair. But it’s not straight because it grew out that way! It will still look and be thicker! It might be a wig or a sew-in (human or synthetic), it might be flat-ironed (while relaxed? While natural?) It takes effort to get and maintain straight hair.

'I think it looks better good this way!'

If you catch yourself thinking this, this is a racist statement. Whether you’re aware of it our not, there is a bias towards Eurocentric/white features in our society, and that includes in our media. When you think “I only drew [this Eurocentric hair texture and style] because I think it looks good on them!” I want you to PAUSE and think about the WHY. WHY do you think that this Black person’s natural features are unattractive in comparison to the white hair texture you gave them? And how hurt might a Black peer of yours would feel hearing that you find their natural features not worth drawing because they’re “not attractive”. It requires approaching your own internal biases, recognizing them, and then working to unlearn them. And that means practice! Using references to draw our hair and styles, and growing used to using OUR features on US!

Doing it in Art

Me personally, I think if you think drawing thinner hair textures is easy, thicker hair textures should be a BREEZE. I was curious, so I challenged myself and-

(it took me about thirteen minutes total to do ol boy's hair and it's still not right. I'm sick fr y'all don't even know 🤢)

@ackee has a really good art lesson on the how-tos of drawing Black hairstyles. I highly recommend checking it out, as well as following and supporting a fellow Black artist (who is far better than I!)

Hair Brushes

Finally, an option you can use for painting is downloading Black hair brushes! Vegalia has an amazing array of brushes with different types of curls, locs, and braids at her Etsy store! You can also follow her on social media to see how she applies them, and support yet another amazing Black creative!

I know this was a long one, but you made it! Just keep going. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #black art #black characters #character design #black hair #black history #black culture

3K notes · View notes

bookofbonbon · 4 months

Text

you keep him there - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Death. Dead Body. Toxic relationship. Toxic!Snow x Toxic!Reader.

Summary: Coriolanus is now President and you his First Lady. Perhaps you don't particularly like him but, you are protective of him.

Word Count: 1213.

You sit in calm silence, hand pressed to your temple - careful to avoid your meticulously styled hair as a cigarette burns between your fingers - the beginnings of a headache coming on as you knead the taut skin softly, waiting patiently for the arrival of your husband.

You’d known Coriolanus your entire life. A common theme amongst most polite Capitol society. Of course, 15 years on and the divide between old money and new still existed; flimsy but very much still there.

Were the two of you close growing up? No.

But, did you consider him friend? Also, no.

At the very least however, did you like him? Not in the slightest.

Of course, none of that mattered, not when each of you headed your respective families; families who made up half of the remaining four of the Old Guard of the Elite - Snow and Blizzard.

So, it was to no one’s surprise when your betrothal to Snow was announced at 20; the match arranged by your respective grandparents - although you suspected Coriolanus had more of a hand in it than his senile grandmother did - and cementing your union as husband and wife at 21.

So, despite your dislike of the newly minted, 23-year-old President of Panem, his role as husband in your life actually meant something to you - you’d always protect him.

It’s what got you into your current predicament.

“How many times must I tell you to stop smoking inside?” his voice shatters the silence from where he stands on the other side of the Parlour.

His long legs carry him quickly over to you, a deep scowl etched into his features as he plucks the cigarette from between your fingers and crushes it in the ashtray.

“The nicotine will stain the walls yellow. Not to mention the smell,” he stands over you, sharp nose turned up in disgust.

“So, I’ll have an Avox clean the walls and replace the furniture,” you resolve, standing from the plush couch and leading him out of the Parlour and into the Drawing room. “Besides, that’s the least of our material problems, right now.”

“And what about when the nasty habit leads you to an early grave? Hm? What will an Avox do then?”

You stop outside of the drawing rooms closed doors. Turning to face him, you lean against the frame and smile.

“Come now, Coco, I thought we agreed never to lie to each other,” you tut. “Let’s not pretend the prospect of an early grave doesn’t secretly thrill you.”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes at the nickname, he simultaneously hated and grew fond of it.

“And yet, still you pretend you don’t like me,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Whether you choose to believe me or not, I would like to grow old with you.”

“Or not,” you smile tightly, turning swiftly back toward the closed doors.

A lie, you knew Coriolanus held affection for you, no matter how oddly he showed it. Although, the same could be said about you with him. However, it was just that affection - it wasn’t a lie that you didn’t like him.

“As I was saying, yellow stained parlour walls are the least of our material problems right now,” you open the doors of the drawing room and reveal the dead body on the floor. “Not when Livia Cardew’s fiancé is bleeding out on my new rug.”

“I’m not sure what it is about me that seems to invite talks of treason.”

You find yourself leaning, once again, against the doors frame as Coriolanus steps further into the room.

“Must be all those outward displays of affection you show toward me,” he speaks sarcastically, crouching down. “I'll have a new rug made for you.”

You snort something of a laugh - a rare sound.

“What did he say?”

“He came to deliver something of a warning to me.”

You stand behind Coriolanus, placing a hand on his shoulder and peering down at the blue faced and bloody nose body.

“Is that so?”

You make a noise of agreement, “something about power getting to your head and boasting that he himself was about to step into immense power in a few short weeks when Livia’s mother steps down; that he was doing me a favor by stopping by, if I had any sense I would leave you before it was too late.”

“Truly two pretty little idiots,” you scoff. “As if we’d allow the fool and that idiotic girl to take control of the Capitol’s largest bank. Although, I suppose we should thank them,” you wonder aloud. “They have made it significantly easier on us.”

“Thank you,” Coriolanus pats his cheek and stands.

Ushering the two of you out of the room, he guides you to the front doors with a hand on the small of your back.

You laugh, proper this time; the sound is nice, reminding Coriolanus of a songbird - without the temptation to shoot it dead - and it brings a genuine smile to his face.

“What of Livia?” you ask, as he takes your coat from an Avox and helps you into it.

“We keep her alive, a small token of our mercy,” he decides. “But we strip her of the majority of her family’s assets on the grounds of treason, replace her with someone Capitol society trusts as heir to the Cardew Empire and leave her with only enough to keep her just above the line of poverty.”

Turning you toward him, Coriolanus observes you quietly with a strange look in his eye as he tucks a stray hair back into place and fixes the imperfection.

“I supposed I should break the unfortunate news of her never-to-be husband’s passing to her, I’m already ten minutes late.”

You smooth out the front of your coat, stepping out of his reach and out the door but, not before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Before, you can clear the landing to descend the front steps however, Coriolanus calls to you.

“Hm?” you turn back to him.

“Would you…” he trails off, the strange look still in his eye - it’s insecurity.

You don’t point it out.

“Would I?” you repeat, stepping back within his reach.

“Leave me,” he finishes, recalling the earlier warning given to you. “I mean, after all, you say you don’t like me.”

His lips pull bitterly.

You almost laugh in his face, that after five years together and all you had done for him that he would still question your devotion to him.

“I don’t,” you shrug, nonchalant.

His jaw tenses, ears turning red with anger… or maybe humiliation but, you don’t give him time to dwell on it; crowding his space and gripping his jaw tightly between your fingers, you force him to look at you.

“But, I also don’t have to like you. I love you and that’s enough for me, I can only hope that someday that it’ll be enough for you too,” you loosen your grip.

Coriolanus swallows thickly, eyes closing as he presses his forehead to yours.

“It’s enough for me,” he whispers.

“Always remember,” you remind him, pushing him back slightly to look into his eyes “We’re a team. Snow lands on top and…”

“the Blizzard keeps it there,” he finishes.

You keep him there.

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus x you #tom blyth

2K notes · View notes

dilfartist · 11 months

Text

A foolish endeavor

Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?

Word count; 2.8k

Reader description; Female/GN

TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.

Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}

Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.

Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.

Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.

The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.

Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.

Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.

Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.

You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.

Miguel O’Hara.

Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.

It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.

You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.

Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.

You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.

The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.

His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.

You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.

Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.

For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.

By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.

When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.

You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.

Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.

You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.

Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”

“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.

“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.

No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”

You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?

That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.

You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.

Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.

You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”

Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.

“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.

You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.

Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”

You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.

Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”

You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.

The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.

Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.

When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.

Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.

Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.

Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.

It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.

Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.

You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building

Fuck it.

If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.

You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.

“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.

How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?

God, being on the run was stressful.

Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.

When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.

Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.

The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.

You see it.

Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!

“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.

Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.

At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.

“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.

You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.

He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.

You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.

You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.

“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.

Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.

The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.

Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.

His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”

Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”

————————

Translations

- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?

- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?

- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.

- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.

- mi alma/ my soul

4K notes · View notes

bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

i need vox to lowkey think being a housewife is kinda sexy like... the guy was probably raised with strict gender role expectations (that's probably why he's also a workaholic) and reversing the roles kinda turns him on a lil bit yknow? Just plays into him being submissive and wanting to be taken care of imo

Housewife Vox with a Dom Reader [smut hcs]

a/n — the first part is right here, you should all read that before this so I don’t seem batshit fucking crazy [and probably like and reboot just to be safe]!

warnings — dom reader, sub vox, headcanons, gender neutral reader, read the first thing so I don’t sound dumb please because this is for a specific au

summary — After the fall of the vees, Vox ends up washed-up and crashing at the readers place, making him a sort of ‘housewife type.’ Basically just the first part but in the form of smut headcanons!

So i’ll start off with what you were saying. Growing up in his given time period, the gender roles were absolutely heavily enforced. Men work and make money, that’s just what they have to do.

Vox strives to be as ‘modern’ as possible, so all of the sexism and misogyny has pretty much worn off, but the internalized gender roles have stuck. So given his current… situation, he’s confused, to say the least.

His stuck at home, practically obligated to take care of the house, do your laundry, and wash your dishes. He’s never had to be that person in the relationship, and it’s infuriating.

But also weirdly turns him on. He’s a business man by nature, and now he’s in slippers and an apron. Shouldn’t he be embarrassed of such a submissive, stereotypically womanly job?

Or maybe, even absolutely humiliated. And he was, don’t get him wrong, but that’s what he found so hot about the whole thing.

Yes, he was angry at his new downgrade in society, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want you to bend him over the kitchen counter and fuck him in his little pink apron.

And yes, he absolutely plays into it. He’s never been the type to play into attention in a sexual kind of way, but in the light of loosing the other Vees, he plays a few cards he’s seen before.

He’s leaning over to do the dishes and talking to you at the same time, and he’s arching his back drastically more than he has too, and his talking increasingly smoothly.

Maybe he even drops something in front of you and bends down very obviously to pick it up. And of course, he curses himself for acting out so shamelessly for attention.

Like, has it really come to this? But then again, that makes it ten times hotter to him.

His praise kink is absolutely terrible during this time in his life too. Because quite literally, he’s lost everything that’s made him even slightly impressive.

And this makes him very insecure, because while his ego has always been fragile, he’s always had something going for him to fuel his self entitlement.

So any praise from you will get him going, and make him instantly needy for more. He’s such a slut for you being nice to him in this situation.

“Oh, by the way, good job on remembering to do the laundry, babe!” He’s hard instantly.

It would be so easy to make him cry in bed, from degradation obviously, but also from your nice words.

I think this is because for the first time in his existence, his self esteem is actively low. And he thought so incredibly high of himself before, the whiplash would leave him so exhausted.

Like he’d be normal, just moaning and whining under your touch. And, as per usual, you whip out the line “Your such a good boy for me.”

That’s when you feel his whole body shudder, and stop squirming. He just looks up at you, and he bursts out into fucking tears.

You’d stop what you were doing at first because you’ve never elicited a reaction that strong, “Uh… Vox, are you okay—“

“More—mzz—more please!” Is all he’d manage to buffer out before continuing his desperate sobs for approval.

And you’d give him what he wants and treat him gently and kindly, all while complimenting him about how amazing he is, and what a good housewife he is for you, and how useful he is.

He’d be squirming, arching up into you, buffering up into you, and whining desperately as tears pour out into his screen.

Now degradation would be a whole other thing. Because he definitely wouldn’t be able to take as much as he would have before this whole situation.

But as discussed previously, his humiliation kink would still be very present. So light teasing would definitely get him going.

Like messing with him and degrading him about how he’s just your little housewife now, and embarrassing him on the subject.

You know, he’d probably start crying even if you weren’t going specifically hard on him.

Now, if you’re not familiar with my boycunt Vox idea, this is going to sound like gibberish.

But I imagine even after the fall of his empire, he those supplies. So boycunt Vox, and housewife Vox???

Imagine sliding a little vibrator in his cunt while he works around the house, and every time he doesn’t do a task efficiently, you up the level.

By the end of the time, he’s on his knees begging to be fucked by you, saying he’s done everything you asked, and it wouldn’t be fucking fair to just leave him like this!

Because yes, he’s still a fucking brat at rock bottom because he just sucks that much. In fact, he’d definitely try to provoke you sometimes.

Especially when you piss him off. He’s not above ‘accidentally’ shattering your fine china dishes or spilling your favorite dish all over the floor, or worse, onto your lap.

However, his desperation for approval shows when you fuck the brat out of him.

a/n — this au is my everything, gang. MY EVERYTHING. also I hope this is coherent, I know it won’t be to anyone who didn’t read the fic that prompted this but like… it’s linked at the top so.

Anyways I want to do more with this au, so I tried to not get too specific with the smut headcanons because hopefully there will be fics. SEND REQUESTS.

#hazbin hotel x reader #inbox open #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #vox x reader #vox x y/n #vox x you #vox smut #sub vox #sub hazbin hotel

524 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 8 months

Note

i mean realistically many people do deserve to be the victims of targeted harassment campaigns. if you're being an asshole you deserve to be screamed at by everyone present until you stop. some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

damn following up the last ask, ig it was someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out. my bad lol thought that was part of ur main post

I mean this is something that's still worthwhile to bounce off of even though you're not actually responding to me.

First of all, no, I pretty much don't think that anybody deserves to be the focus of a targeted harassment campaign. At least not the kind that are spun up on tumblr or twitter. I generally think that targeted harassment campaigns don't work to change minds, they only work to torment, isolate, and attack people, which will often further entrench them in their positions.

Sometimes people doing serious antifascist work will make a discovery like, for instance "the principal of X school is a vicious antisemite" and will run an *exposure* campaign to get them removed from a position of power, but with very few exceptions when you see an online callout post for a random internet user it's nothing but abuse and an attempt to bully them off of a specific website, not an attempt to protect victims or inform people of a genuine threat. "ABC is the new alt of this person with a documented history of starting cults, DNI, block and move on" is very different than "This specific user who is on staff posts harry potter fanart and is why fascists continue to exist on tumblr, let's make sure they know what tumblr thinks of them."

You are trying to frame bullying campaigns as normal consequences for antisocial behavior, but the antisocial behaviors under discussion here are "user posted fanart broadly disliked by the community and associated with specific ideologies long after the initial fandoms were crystallized" and "is the CEO of a social media website that is implementing features that the users dislike."

"People deserve to be screamed at until they stop the bad behavior" is punitive and shitty and so broad and open to so many interpretations that you're basically saying "it's open season on screaming at people." I think that it's bad behavior to support neoliberal political candidates who prop up capitalism but it would be horrible for me to run harassment campaigns against everyone who says "vote blue no matter who" even though I think that attitude perpetuates real world harms. (And it also wouldn't convince those people to change their minds! The fact that I think they are doing something harmful doesn't give me the social license to send hundreds of people to harass them! And it wouldn't work! These kinds of campaigns don't effect change they just isolate people and erode trust and civility jesus fuck we need to be coalition building not posting callouts over whatever activity has been deemed "freak behavior" this week)

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

oh buddy, I think I get where you're coming from here but considering the kinds of behavior under discussion this is just straight up fascist. You are literally saying that people should be banished from society for wrongthink because nobody under discussion here has actually committed an act of cruelty.

(one of the things that i'm putting under the heading of "tumblr conspiracist thinking" is "staff is currently and continually intentionally flagging certain LGBTQ tags and bloggers" - there is ample evidence that the current staff is working to unfuck flagging and blocked tags that was done long before this crew was working on it. People talk about "tumblr had to settle because their filtering disproportionately impacted lgbtq+ creators" and that is TRUE however that was a filter that was established under different owners with different policies and different staff; the implication that the current staff is guilty of trying to stifle LGBTQ+ content because a lawsuit started before the Automattic purchase of tumblr ended in a financial settlement is just bad, wrong, incorrect, faulty logic. And if I might indulge in a bit of my own conspiracist thinking: I actually suspect a lot of the flagging and tagging and blocking of trans women specifically might actually be targeted attacks of individual users by terfs - many of the things that are getting flagged as needing a community label are things that use tags that terfs follow to attack and if enough users click "this needs a community label" the post will get flagged - I don't know that that's what's going on but just operating on occam's razor I think it's a lot more likely that terfs are coordinating attacks on trans people than that there is a secret group of cryptoterfs on staff taking time out of their day to ensure that trans users get flagged, if only because I think that the vocally trans positive former members of the staff would have said something about it.)

So, given that my position is "it is unlikely that anyone on staff is intentionally targeting LGBTQ+ groups HOWEVER prior policies enacted harm against LGBTQ+ groups and there is visible evidence that the current staff is trying to repair that damage" I'm not seeing any behaviors here that call for individual employees or users to get targeted with harassment from thousands of users.

But anyway, back to the specifics of the ask:

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

Do you have any idea how frequently amends are made and never circulated as widely as the callout post? Do you have any idea how frequently callout posts are incorrect, and exaggerate the things that need to be amended? I'm reminded of Lindsey Ellis, who was the victim of a years-long targeted harassment campaign and made multiple apologies over the years who was finally driven off of her primary platform because she carelessly misspoke and the people who had been targeting her for years were able to make a post that she had long disavowed and was a relic of her dealing with the aftermath of sexual violence go viral. The internet doesn't let people make amends; people see accusations. They see the first post, not the follow up. That's why starting these campaigns is shitty and dangerous even if you *personally* believe that you'll forgive an individual once they "make amends." (and the "amends" people usually demand are "i want this person gone from the internet forever and cut out of this part of their life" - that's not really something that's fair to ask of people when so much of the world is online these days.)

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

No they don't. Straight up. If the manager of a wendy's sprays you in the neck with a milkshake you have the right to escalate your complaint right up the chain, take your business away and never come back, warn other people "hey the manager sprayed me with a milkshake, stay away," but you don't have the moral right to escalate the situation by screaming at them (and you certainly don't have that right if you happened to get sprayed with some milkshake while the manager was attempting to fix the frostee machine when you came to pick up your order, which I think is actually more analogous to what is happening here).

someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out

A big point that I think you're missing here is that @-ing staff when there is a problem on a post or you see harassment is generally pretty acceptable (though much less effective than filing a support claim), but the issue under discussion isn't @-ing staff, it was pointing thousands of angry people at two specific people who are *part* of staff and holding those two individuals responsible for all the problems that users see with tumblr.

partyjockers got nuked because their post directed a flood of harassment at one staff member in a post where they had highlighted that user's URL and name:

This is explicitly saying "users like the one I screenshotted are the reason you're being attacked by terfs" because one member of staff posted fanart from two franchises that tumblr-the-userbase has deemed off limits.

(Do you have any idea how extreme a bubble this is? Do you walk into barnes and noble and sigh because the managers are fascists who want trans people dead because there's harry potter merch everywhere? JK rowling is a terf and a horrible fucking person and I am no longer personally comfortable engaging with that fandom but people posting fanart of a franchise are not personally attacking you even if it feels like they are disregarding your humanity; you cannot consider other people's participation in huge, popular, mainstream fandoms as a sign that they are plotting against you this is why i'm calling this conspiracist thinking the entire scorched earth conspiracy spawned from someone interpreting a staff member's art as esoteric signposts signalling their hatred of trans people. Do you remember when the stupid harry potter game came out and this entire website was despondent because it meant that people didn't care about trans people? That's not actually what it meant! What it meant is that the vast majority of people on the planet have neither a twitter nor a tumblr account and have no idea how shitty JK rowling is to trans people and they don't interpret "harry potter imagery" as "covert terf signal" they interpret it as "possibly the most mainstream fantasy series in the last fifty years")

This isn't someone calling out the manager after they spray you with a milkshake. The manager asking someone to leave after they started screaming that the cashier's earrings were hate speech.

This analogy got out of hand but please just understand that there's a difference between @-ing an account that people are paid to monitor as part of their jobs and that they have support and coworkers to help with and @-ing someone's personal account.

Nobody got a post deleted because the used @ staff, they got their posts deleted because they focused viral negative attention on individual users.

1K notes · View notes

grison-in-space · 1 month

Text

The “natural” and “evolutionary” preference for hourglass shapes would be news to medieval male Europeans, who as we have seen were much more interested in pear shapes. How do we explain medieval men’s desire for pot bellies if men analyze women’s bodies for signs that they may be pregnant and eschew them if they are? And what about today’s high fashion models who are tall, have small to medium-sized breasts, and slim hips yet are considered the epitome of the ideal body? All these designations of attractiveness leave out most women, even if they turn to a surgical option.

Further, our society does not praise most of the other medieval beauty preferences. We may still regard blond hair as a beauty ideal, but we are fickle on much else. In the last fifty years, we have lauded tanned skin and fair complexions—note that Black and brown women’s skin tones don’t even enter into Western beauty standards. Eyebrows go from pencil thin to bushy. And we don’t share the medieval penchant for “high free” foreheads. If standards are based on evolutionary processes, why do our current preferences differ from older ones, and why have ours changed even during different decades?

There is no single and consistent beauty ideal that has existed over time, even within Europe. Beauty is a social construct and has different characteristics in different ages. Justifying social beauty norms through scientific means is as much a social construction as Matthew of Vendôme’s effort was, and we can pay them exactly as much heed. Maybe less, because at least Matthew was giving us some poetry to read as well.

Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex. 2023.

#Eleanor Janega #the once and future sex #reading

456 notes · View notes

captainjonnitkessler · 4 months

Note

I understand if you want to stay out of it but I’m curious as to you’re thoughts on this discourse

https://www.tumblr.com/dappercat123/737173649266737152/your-arguments-sum-to-in-my-perfect-world-there

Anon, I'm going to be entirely honest with you. I have been waiting for an excuse to put my thoughts about this down. Forewarning that this is going to be long and take a dim view of organized religion.

TL;DR: I think everyone in that thread is maliciously misinterpreting evilsoup's point, which is basically that they think Gene Roddenberry was right about what a post-utopian society would look like re: religion. And you can agree or disagree about whether a post-religious utopia is likely or desirable, but to say that anyone who thinks it is is actively calling for and encouraging genocide is a gross misuse of the term (especially coming from at least one person that I'm pretty sure is currently denying an actively ongoing actual fucking genocide).

@evilsoup can correct me if I'm misinterpreting their points, but as far as I see it there are two main points being made:

A) In a perfect utopia with absolutely no source of oppression, marginalization, or disparity, religion would naturally whither away with no outside pressure being applied.

B) This would be a good or at least a neutral thing.

As far as A) goes - a lot of the responses evilsoup got were basically "well *I* would never choose to be nonreligious, so therefore the only way to create that world would be by force, and therefore you are calling for literal genocide". But aside from the fact that evilsoup was very, very clear that they thought this would be a *natural* event and that trying to force people to be nonreligious would be evil - we're not talking about (general) you. You can be as religious as you want but you don't get to make that choice for your grandkids, or your great-great-great grandkids, or your great-great-great-great-great-etc. grandkids. Just because religion is an integral part of your identity doesn't mean it's something you can pass down, and if you're not comfortable with the idea that your kids might choose to leave your religion, you shouldn't have kids.

I personally don't foresee religion disappearing entirely, but it is pretty consistent that as a country becomes happier, healthier, and wealthier, it also becomes less religious. Religiosity is inversely correlated with progressive values. And the more democratic and secular a nation is, the less powerful religious authorities become - In the 1600s blasphemy and atheism were punishable by death* in Massachusetts and today I can call the Pope a cunt to his face** on Twitter with no repercussions whatsoever. Political secularism is an absolute necessity for true democracy and it necessitates removing power from religious authorities, which has and will likely continue to lead to a decline in religiosity - not just a decline in how many people identify as religious, but also a decline in how religious the remaining people are.

*Blasphemy laws and death penalties for blasphemers/apostates are still VERY much a thing in many places. It's hard to see a path where those places become more democratic but don't become more secular and repeal those laws.

**Well, to the face of whoever runs his Twitter account, but the point remains.

I also believe that many religious communities have been held together for so long via coercion - either internal coercion like blasphemy and apostasy laws, shunning, and threats of hell or other supernatural punishment, or external coercion like oppression from the majority religious group or ethnic cleansings. In a perfect utopia, neither form of coercion would exist and I don't think it's crazy to think that religiosity would drop severely and become a much less important part of people's identities, in the way I think the queer community would not exist in a world where queerphobia didn't exist.

ANYWAY, all this is actually kind of moot. It could happen, it could not, nobody is calling for it to be forced so we'll just have to wait and see. The real point of disagreement is on B).

I'm gonna be honest - I think a lot of the responders are rank hypocrites and are really hung up on the idea of cultural purity, which is something I'm wildly uncomfortable with.

First of all, the idea that a deeply-held religious belief could be diluted until it's just a cultural thing that nobody really remembers the origins of isn't some evil mastermind plot evilsoup is trying to concoct, it's just how cultures work. There's tons of stuff about American culture that are vaguely rooted in what were once deeply-held beliefs and are now entertainment. Halloween is rooted in sacred tradition and now it's a day to dress up and get candy. Christmas is one of the most sacred holidays in Christianity but nobody bats an eye if a non-Christian puts up some lights or decorates a tree just because it's fun. I have no doubt that every culture on Earth has traditions that used to be deeply sacred but are now just fun family traditions. People in Japan use Christian symbology as an "exotic, mythical" aesthetic the exact same way people in the West use Eastern symbology. And if you're okay with it happening to Christianity, why wouldn't you be okay with it happening to any other religion in the absence of oppression?

And there's the idea that if a culture fails to get passed down *exactly* as it is now, it's a terrible loss and the result of malicious outside influence. But . . . cultures change over time. No culture is the same now as it was two or five or eight hundred years ago and I don't believe that change is inherently loss. The things that are sacred to you may or may not be sacred to the people of your culture in the future. That's just the way things work, and I don't think it's inherently good or bad.

And finally, people keep accusing evilsoup of "just wanting everyone to assimilate to your culture", but it absolutely does not follow that a lack of religion means a lack of diversity. Different nonreligious cultures are every bit as capable of being diverse as different religious cultures, so it's weird to insist that evilsoup wants there to only be one culture when they never said anything to indicate that.

#me still nursing the burn i got from touching the Discourse Stove last week: well surely it's not still hot #time to hit post and then log off for the night #atheism #skepticism umbrella

588 notes · View notes

headspace-hotel · 1 year

Text

Another note on climate change despair:

My politics are pretty leftist, especially by the standards of a red state, but I think there is a such thing as Too Far Left re: the systemic nature of problems

It happens when you start to believe that nothing will ever change unless the current system is completely destroyed and a new one built in its place. In particular, when you believe that taking steps to reform, or decrease the harm of, a corrupt system is pointless or even bad, you've gone off the deep end imho.

People from my own country—the United States—will say things like "Gradual, incremental change is pointless, we need Revolution!"

Look me in the eyes and tell me that women's rights, LGBTQ rights, racial equality, etc. are in the same state they were in 1950. Maybe just google these things first.

Revolution IS an incremental change!!! This country has tens of thousands of elected officials and officeholders!! Every life-supporting industry is run by a fucked up Rube Goldberg machine of bureaucracy that could stretch from here to the Moon 87 times!!! This country's laws, institutions, and supply chains are a Bethesda game programmed in the 1700's, released unfinished and currently running thousands of mods, at least half of which either remove crucial game mechanics and content at random or do things like "make your character take damage when he pees." Do you think it's really possible to raze this clusterfuck to the ground and rebuild it from scratch?

anyway, I say this because a concerning amount of people believe literally nothing meaningful can be done to save the planet until our current government and economic system no longer exist.

I get it. Capitalism is what got us into this mess and it's making it worse right now, but we do not have zero agency, capitalism does not have infinite power and wisdom, and humans and governments can and do make decisions that are contrary to the immediate interests of capitalism. I think it's not only possible but normal throughout history for people's actions and beliefs to flow against the prevailing power of the time.

Think of dandelions. They flourish not because they are wanted, but because they are numerous, and the power that controls the grass and sidewalks cannot reach everywhere at once. And so they are unstoppable, and will never be destroyed.

We must have the raw, opportunistic resisting power of weeds, taking hold in every crack in the terrible machine that controls our lives. We must hold on like little plants in an expanse of cracked concrete—the slab will not be dug up and the soil set free anytime soon, but if enough of us live our lives in spite of it, its power will be weakened and its impenetrable nature changed.

Also, just because technological solutions to climate change don't feel right—they don't satisfy the longer-term, idealized principle of healing the Earth and creating a more sustainable society—doesn't mean they wouldn't, in the short term, work.

Get in losers, we're burning incense to Caesar and tomorrow we will be alive.

#climate despair #nature

3K notes · View notes

alessiamalfoyzabini · 2 months

Text

Vampire's Kiss | Chapter One

Pairing | Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 3,7k

Warnings | +18, hate and prejudice about vampires, mentions of blood and sex

⤷ Summary | Humans have finally unveiled and accepted the centuries-old existence of vampires, in a modern world people share their lives with these peculiar and mysterious creatures, but it is not all roses.

Will two souls belonging to such different species be able to be together?

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! ❤️ This is the first chapter of Vampire's Kiss, please let me know if you like the story, it would be really good for me! 🥰💜

Taglist: @katherine-kookie

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Next

"Do you know what happens when a vampire invites you out?" You roll your eyes, aware that Mirae is not yet finished with her rant, "Let's hear it, what?" "You never come home and are found in a forest, hanging from a tree, drained," was her solemn reply, she looks at you with stern eyes from behind the thick lenses of her glasses, you smile at her vivid imagination. "Sis, you know that we now live in a society where vampires are accepted by everyone and drink only donated blood, yes?" her frown if possible deepens more. Vampires for a few years now have been leading a healthy lifestyle for everyone, they no longer attack the living, and to have more control over their actions the government sends to their homes every two weeks a bag of blood from the donor they have chosen based on blood type, otherwise they can support themselves by eating the same food as humans, especially undercooked meat. It came to such a condition after all the bloody clashes that took place, both humans and vampires found themselves tired of fearing they would not make it to the next day, so the current arrangement had been arrived at that allows you to coexist without too many problems. Unfortunately, there is always someone who does not accept the new way of life, and your younger sister is one of those someone, she does not trust vampires.

"They're just waiting to come back as strong as they used to be, then they'll start to see us as tasty blood bags again," she hisses, glancing evilly at the page you opened from the PC. This is a dating site for vampires, from which many mixed couples have also sprung. Your best friend for example was happily married last year to her boyfriend, a vampire she met through this very site. You've met him, Shawn is just the sweetest guy and doesn't deserve the derogatory designation of "bloodsucker," as Mirae enjoys calling him instead whenever your best friend video chats with you and is with him. "You hang out too much with those extremist freaks on campus," you look at her harshly; she had joined a crazy group two years ago where they preach hatred of vampires, and she has totally changed since then. She is young and easy to be influenced, you just hope she doesn't go too far. You've tried to convince her to drop that subspecies of a cult, but her crush on the Leader of the Muggles is stronger than common sense, "And now I'd like some privacy!" "I don't want a vampire brother-in-law, I'll never accept that!" she exclaims in turn, before walking out slamming the door to your room, you feel the strong urge to yell insults at her, but you restrain the urge and refocus on the still active web page.

Many faces are silently watching you, and there's no denying that each one is fascinating in its own way, but you don't feel any chemistry, nothing that makes you say, "That's him!" so you go on searching for at least another hour, but still nothing. You could simplify things, date human guys who would surely be easier to find around, after all you've already done that and had a great time, but there's something about the idea of getting bitten that appeals to you. You've read around that vampires like to consume blood during sex, this happens mostly between couples, at that moment it's not just feeding, it's a kind of connection that goes on on both sides, a level of intimacy that provides an almost painful pleasure, you definitely want to try it to satiate your curiosity, and maybe you'll even find the right man for you. Ellen, your best friend, even hinted at some things, but she never went further with the details because it is something too personal to tell, she didn't even explain to you how she - human girl - shared the experience with her boyfriend, since then your brain has never stopped thinking about it for a moment.

You wearily squint your eyes deciding to end your search for the time being, you are tired and certainly cannot waste any more precious hours of rest, your job as an assistant is hell, especially when you have a disgusting caricature of a menstruating man for a boss. "Honey, it's ready!" you hear your mother shout from the kitchen. You haven't lived with your parents for a long time, but every now and then you take a little break to visit them, the only bad thing about these meetings is your younger sister of course. You put on your shoes and walk to your bedroom door, heading to the kitchen, where you find your mother preparing dishes for her meat and potato stew, your mouth is already watering! "Mom..." you look at her with affection, you adore your mom, she cooks like a god and is always understanding, the sweet woman who raised you always knew what to say at the right time and also knew how to measure her words, unlike your father who is a little more like Mirae character-wise.

"Take a seat, come on! Otherwise the food will get cold," she says kindly, patting you lightly on the back, you follow her order and sit to the right of your father, who is staring at the television with a grim expression, his reading glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose, almost following his mood. "Something wrong, dad?" "Another dead body, this time a man at a gas station, not a trace of blood in his body... not a drop," he mutters, you tighten your lips. You know what he'll say next, he doesn't trust vampires. "You know they're not all the same, dad... Tomorrow you'll hear about a human man who killed his employer, don't forget that our kind commits evil deeds too." "But our government helps them! They want live prey, not a sterile bag!" you try to reply, but promptly Mirae comes to her father's aid in his words, contributing to that stifling closed-mindedness. "Dad's convinced too, see?" your sister raises her nose up in a saccharine manner and your stomach clenches, suddenly losing your appetite. Your mother arrives at that moment with steaming plates in the tray, you sigh intercepting her glance, and yes, maybe in such cases it's better not to say anything else.

"You sent the message to Park Jimin, yes? The one where I ask him if he can ask his boss to agree to a dinner to get us on the same page regarding the compatibility of our companies, yes?" You stare at your boss's sweaty face with a smile, even though inside you are screaming. Maybe it's middle age or the fact that his wife left him demanding maintenance, the fact is that he has become more paranoid and oppressive over the past year. "Mr. Kim, I have already contacted Park Jimin and he indicated that he would give me an answer shortly," the man nods, relaxing a bit. The life of the company depends on this agreement, you know. If Kim Seokjin had incorporated your boss's small business then it would have saved you from the broken bank, and as a result your salary would have been even more substantial, but you don't put much hope in that. As mentioned, you are on the brink of the broken bank, which means your efforts do not pay off, so why should Kim Seokjin accept it? In the company where you work you are a bunch of suburban writers and journalists, your magazine is old stuff now. The only way to save everything is to assign you to something else, something your boss evidently never thought of in order to get you up and running again.

"... - it's a crazy thing that a vampire would go to such lengths!" the old man finishes, you realize you haven't been listening to anything at all, but from the last sentence you got the gist of it.

Yes, Kim Seokjin is a vampire, and yes, he goes out in the daytime to have his picture taken with yet another model hanging on his arm.

Vampires can be in daylight, the sun gives them mild eye irritation, which is why - particularly in summer - they use sunglasses, but otherwise no problem, they live like normal humans, just with a little more sunscreen.

And your boss is tremendously envious of all that is Kim Seokjin.

But if you want to hold on to your job you need to talk to Jimin, you've known him since college, he was dating one of your friends at the time and fit in very well in your friendship group, despite being the only non-human present, even when he broke up with your friend he made it clear that he wanted to remain your friend, but you didn't see each other as often as you would have liked.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" you almost jump out of your chair at the lighthearted voice of your colleague, Valentine.

You cast her a suspicious look, "What do you mean?"

Her pretty face breaks into a wide grin, but to you it was like seeing a fox sneer.

"That dating site, right? Vampire's Kiss! Do you know they even made an app out of it? That Kim Seokjin is really a monster of genius."

"Kim Seokjin?" you ask with confusion, has he now also put his hand in the area that was in charge of relationships? Your colleague squints.

"You've been visiting Vampire's Kiss for a week and never wondered who came up with it and put it within everyone's reach?" you arch an eyebrow, of course you didn't know, you're interested in more than just that site! Users signing up for example, not its developer, "Ah! Forget it, just answer me!"

The temptation to tell her to go to hell makes your lips tingle, but you finally respond with a polite smile.

"I haven't found anything yet, actually."

"Take any one, they're all the same."

You widen your eyes, "How?"

Valentine moves her hand hastily, "Vampires, they're all the same! Take any one for experience, they all have the characteristics we're looking for," she says, as if it were obvious you were looking for someone just for fun and nothing else.

But you are not like that, you have enough failed relationships behind you precisely because every one of your partners was looking for that, fun. And you're fed up, you want a healthy, real relationship, not something to try one night stands.

"I don't want just anybody, and I'm not just talking about sex... I'm looking for a relationship actually."

Without warning she bursts out laughing, soundly even. Gritting your teeth, unnerved by her behavior, she recovers for a moment wiping away imaginary tears, "You can't be serious! Vampires were not created for humans, they don't see life the way we do, the most we can do with them is to experience some fun things, but then each to their own way," she says using a cute tone, as if she's looking at a little girl who lives on dreams.

"I'm happy to see things differently from you," after answering her that way you go back to your horrible job, earning a resentful look from her.

"Look it's not just me saying this, a friend of mine recently broke up with one of those guys there, she got dumped" she mutters, you sigh.

"Has the thought ever crossed your mind that we are not all the same? You don't have to rely on other people's experiences, start making your own instead."

Maybe you've been too harsh, so you turn to apologize to her, well, you're sorry you used a brusque tone just because you don't like her way of thinking, but you catch her fixing her lipstick quietly, even sending a flying kiss to her own reflection, you narrow your eyes and refuse to talk to her again. You have better things to do than to listen to ignorant, self-absorbed people.

You rather concentrate on the speech you are writing for your boss, it must be ready before 3 p.m. and without that he would not have been able to say a single word during the meeting with the employees. How such a man has managed to run the show so far you still cannot understand, the secretary before you must have been a saint.

"Ah, Yoongyu asked me how things are going for you here in the office, if you're finally getting along well," Valentine casts you a mischievous glance, "Have you two been getting very close lately?"

More than you can brag about.

You shared a brief but intense acquaintance with Yoongyu on the physical plane. You both had a good time, you were the newcomer and he was the director of the company, he was second only to the CEO so you were totally reliant on his guidance, and just in one of those moments where you felt totally lost at work, he asked you out to dinner. You accepted without a second thought, you liked him, he had subtle dark fox eyes and a charming smile, but your relationship didn't last long. You wanted different things, you a stable relationship and he just a friend to share the intimate sides of a relationship with.

Things were over rather quickly, and now you were enjoying a good friendship.

"We're friends, that's all," she rolled her eyes, as if she believed very little of your words.

"Listen to me, give up your vampire hunting, Van Helsing and find an easy romance to live with."

You don't answer her, the vibration of a new message teases your attention, and you pick up the phone.

From: Sweet Jimin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Baby, are you there? 🥺

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You smile spontaneously once you read the sender, Jimin writes to you often using that term, he always treats you like a little sister and for that you are grateful, he is one of your best friends and maybe that is the very reason why you can see vampires as to normal people, just like you.

From: You.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Does my lovely vampire

needs a hand?

🥰

━━━━━━━━━━━━

From: Sweet Jimin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

I always need a hand, baby 😏

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You roll your eyes and take care to point it out, always without stopping giggling. An outside person would have found your chat wacky, you are not together and yet you allow yourselves to flirt a little playfully, but you both know that there would only be mutual affection between you and nothing more driven.

From: You.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

━━━━━━━━━━━━

From: Sweet Jimin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ouch!

That's how you hurt me 😥

But okay though, don't get mad....

But I would need you to do me a favor 💜

Meet me downtown for coffee?

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You cannot deny him help; you know it as well as he knows it.

From: You.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Mh. Okay.

What time? A suitable time for me.

Possibly.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

From: Sweet Jimin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are my angel!

Later around 5pm would be perfect!

I love you, baby ❤

━━━━━━━━━━━━

It would have been nice to find someone to chat with using lots of adorable emoji, someone to call "boyfriend" while smiling like a fool.

You tighten your lips, Jimin always gives you too much hope, he is adorable and always expresses himself sweetly to you, who are a loser to the fullest extent. Consequently, you always think that if someone like Jimin loves you, why shouldn't you hope for more? That's what always rubs you the wrong way.

You are both sitting comfortably outside the café, Jimin sips his coffee absentmindedly, you have chosen a milkshake with chocolate and hazelnut.

You see him search his pocket for something and once he finds it he lays it on the coffee table, it is a completely black bottle with an airtight cap, you raise an eyebrow in his direction and he smiles at you with one corner of his mouth slightly more raised than the other.

"Ever seen a vampire correcting his coffee?" he asks amused, you simply shake your head.

"You are the only vampire I have relations with and you have never done so in my presence."

He tightens his lips and pours a generous dose of the scarlet liquid into his cup, the action doesn't bother you all that much ... but it leaves you intrigued.

"I need it to calm me down a bit, the last period hasn't exactly been the best."

Now that you get a better look at him, his usually pinker lips are now tending to pale, as if he has stopped hydrating, and his eyes are more glazed over.

"Not getting enough rest, Jimin?" but he denies it with his head.

"Problems with my parents, actually ... That's why I need your help."

A shiver goes down your spine, you know Jimin's parents, they are very stiff and composed vampires, the one time they saw you, they didn't look very happy.

"Jimin, I don't think your family likes me," you flinch uncomfortably, the boy immediately takes your hand, there is panic in his eyes.

"Please, I wouldn't ask you if it was just a trifle! You can save me."

You stand for a moment shocked by the desperation in his voice, even his magnificent dark eyes shine in despair.

You take a deep breath, already knowing that you will regret everything.

"Okay...but remember that you have to help me with the matter of my company, I risk losing my job without the agreement, Jimin."

He nods, "Jin is a very good friend of mine, I'll take care of it."

"I don't know what I'll have to help you with, I just hope I don't end up bleeding to death or worse," you say jokingly, but when he doesn't return your laughter your heart tightens.

His grip on your hand strengthens, "I won't let anything happen to you, baby."

The fact that he did not deny those possibilities unnerves you and not a little, what are you getting yourself into? Jimin has been in the world longer than most humans, so why the hell would he need the help of a mere human like you?

You bite your lip absentmindedly, maybe you're just wrapping your head around it before you break it.

"All right, but could you inform me?"

The boy takes a breath, "My parents are peculiar, old-fashioned dare I say it... they come from an era when arranged marriages flourished like chocolates in a chocolate factory, and now that I have reached a high level in business, they demand that I marry and in truth they have already chosen for me," he begins to explain, as he speaks your mouth opens wide, "But I already have a girlfriend and I love her! She is a vampire, but she doesn't boast a rich family like mine, so they immediately set her aside in favor of a woman I know, but I don't like her."

And again... what exactly can you help with?

"Jimin, I still don't understand... how am I supposed to help you?"

"Jin is throwing a party to announce his official engagement, what I ask is for you to pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents."

It's official, you need an ambulance. And urgently, too.

"Y-You are crazy! Your parents hate me just because I breathe their own oxygen, how can you propose such a thing to me! Besides, don't you already have a girlfriend? Use her!"

Okay, you're panicking and you see the corners of your vision darkening, you need to calm down. Jimin gets up and waves to a waiter to bring some water, then tries to take your hand back, but you escape from his grasp.

"Honey, calm down ... the thing is ... I'm sorry to tell you like this," he babbles, you shake your head quickly and try to stand up, but his hands go to rest on your shoulders, consequently pushing you back into the chair, "My parents can't stand humans, to them they reflect the worst of the worst!" he blurts out, and you shoot lightning and thunderbolts from your eyes.

"Exactly, you idiot!"

"That's why you're perfect! If I introduced you to everyone as my girlfriend, threatening to marry you in front of all the other vampires -- at the cost of losing my inheritance -- my parents would start reconsidering my real girlfriend to avoid the scandal of such a statement! Between a human and a vampire of humble origins, who would be the lesser evil for them?"

You bite your lips harder and when the water comes, you begin to drink it quickly.

Unfortunately, the reasoning squares all too well, Jimin is an only child and the Parks cannot afford to lose him, they would never accept a vampire girl of impure blood and even penniless, but a human is something intolerable for vampires like them.

"To say in front of the elders that you will marry a human woman would be ... a disgrace, and would cast shame on your family, who to avoid this ... outburst of yours, would immediately accept the other option through this blackmail of yours," you murmur with your heart in your throat, Jimin nods slowly.

"They don't mind if I 'use' human women for sex, as long as they don't go to taint our bloodline."

You close your eyes, undecided about what to do.

You're fucking scared, his parents creep you out, but it's Jimin. With your heart clenched in a vice, you nod.

"It's just one night, right?"

"Just one," he assures you.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fiction #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts vampire au #bts smut fanfiction #bts smut #bts fanfiction smut #bts x reader #bts x you #jungkook x you #vampire bts #bts ff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut

138 notes · View notes

buckets-of-dirt · 1 year

Text

(ID: A screenshot of tags that read "#Prev what are some alternatives to the word primitive that are less derogatory" /end ID.)

@panicdeleter I'm responding to your question on a new post so that the op of the original doesn't get this in their notes because answering in good faith is going to take a lot of explanation.

Short answer: there isn't one.

Long answer: as you say in your tags, "primitive" is a derogatory term with a very loaded meaning. Removing it from your vocabulary is less a matter of finding a more PC alternative, and more a matter of understanding why it's derogatory and changing your perception of what's being discussed. To do that, we're going to have to look at archaeological theory for a minute. Stick with me, I do have suggestions at the end.

Archaeological theory is a complicated subject and there's no way I'm going to try to summarize all of it in a Tumblr post since it's a topic arch programs devote at least a semester (if not longer) to. So we'll focus on the relevant bits.

Essentially, in the bad old days when archaeology was starting to become a discipline instead of a thing rich dudes did on the weekends, there was this idea that certain European societies were the peak of civilization and everywhere else was less evolved and therefore primitive. It was based on the misunderstanding of the theory of evolution that was common at the time. Like so:

(ID: a diagram drawn in pen. It's titled "Ye Olde Arch/Anth Theory TM". The next line says "Primitive = simple, less evolved, bad". Below it there is a vertical arrow pointing down, with the words "one way line" next to it. Under the arrow there is a line of text reading "Advanced = complex, most evolved, good". /end ID.)

These early archaeologists believed that all of humanity lived on a hierarchy with the "advanced" societies they lived in (and their ancestors like Ancient Greece) at the top and all the "primitive" past and current societies (destined to either become like them or die out eventually) at the bottom.

It's been a long road for archaeological theory. The 20th century was fraught with theoretical movements and debates that sometimes literally devolved into fistfights. But eventually we all ended up more or less here:

(ID: A hand drawn diagram in a similar format to the one above. It's titled "Arch Theory Today (Short Version). Below the title there is a single line of text centred around a horizontal line with arrows at both ends. The left side of the arrow reads "simple" while the right side reads "complex". The line itself is labeled "continuum or spectrum". /end ID.)

While you'll still find some archaeologists who disagree, the main consensus appears to at least be on the same page that instead of the old primitive vs advanced hierarchy, societies exist on a spectrum that ranges in complexity. In the most basic terms, because I'm glossing over A LOT of nuance here, hunter gatherer societies tend towards the simple end of the spectrum while big state societies are on the more complex end. This is not meant as a value judgement of these societies, but merely an attempt to classify them so other people have a frame of reference for what you're talking about. Even so, there's considerable debate about the language used for certain terms and societies, and I am not necessarily qualified to go into that in this post.

I say all that to help you understand why I can't give you a catch-all term to replace "primitive", because if one did exist it would be just as derogatory. In certain contexts there may be more appropriate words that you can use, such as simple (as in the case of the meme that inspired this post) or old. But a lot of the time an alternative just doesn't exist because we are not better or 'more evolved' than our ancestors any more than people living in big state societies are any better than people still living as hunter gatherers.

I know this has been a very long post, but I really am just scratching the surface here. For more information I suggest looking at podcasts like The Dirt or A Life In Ruins, youtube channels like The Welsh Viking or Archaeology Tube, or the blogs of any of my fellow dirt lovers here on Tumblr like @chaotic-archaeologist, @micewithknives, @art-thropologist, @archaeologistproblems, and @rhysintherain to name just a few. Archaeologists are generally a bunch of nerds who will take any opportunity they can to talk about the human past, and we rarely bite.

#thanks for the question!#I hope this long rambly response was a decent answer

846 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Note

how they act around reader! you know the usual, how horny they get and how the reader is potentially uncomfortable because not even they can handle the harems hormones.

MIDNIGHT DARLING HEAD-CANNONS (Unang Yugto / First Part)

YANDERE COLLEGE BASED OCS x READER

Hoo boy we have a lot of characters to go through and I haven’t even named all of them so *cracks knuckles* Let’s go with my favorite children for now.

warnings: dead dove do not eat territory here. yandere themes (lotsa violence). please don’t read this if you have a wild imagination like me oh god im aboutta faint at darling’s section. cannibalism. knife play. necrophillia. a transphobic society.

[previous ask for more context]

[next part] - yandere! faculty

Let’s start with our boy Justin Del Rosario [Yan Jock]

He’s incredibly sweet and caring. At least when you two were dating. The type to always check in on you. Always makes sure you’re hydrated and keeping up with your self-care routines.

As if popular! reader isn’t completely meticulous when it comes to their image.

Looks like a bad boy but is an actual sweetheart. Your relationship started off as a transaction of sorts. Being the softie he is though he developed feelings. Quick. The masochist.

Is a whole ass push-over when it comes to you.

Now post break-up Justin is a bit of a freak.

Like I said in my previous post of his experience as your boyfriend, he has gone through shit.

Suddenly his grades are perfect. People are actually tolerating if not appreciating his presence.

He’s becoming a threat to your place as the ruler of the campus.

But unlike you his fans aren’t declined atrocious yet.

How does Popular! Reader feel about him? Not much really. Their whole relationship was a transaction to them. I can’t emphasize how much of an apathetic bitch I wrote reader to be ya’ll I’m sorry. But in order for their harem to thrive they gotta turn a blind eye.

In terms of Horni Levels it’s uh - not so bad. Once he lost his virginity to you (yes you took his virginity) he found it to be the best stress relief and got addicted. But he’s also super respectful of your boundaries.

That was when you were originally dating though. He’d probably pound you to oblivion if you ever got back together. Pent up horni does that.

Actually, that event might not even need them getting back together. I won’t be surprised if current Justin just takes you even with his relationship with Darling.

For your favorite, Darling De Leon [yan good girl] . . .

⚠️THIS IS THE PART WHERE IT’S DEFINITELY DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Hella shy around you. You almost didn’t know she existed if it weren’t for her consistent placement as second. At least before Isabel came and Justin’s grades shot up.

She has a pretty shit past.

Has always been a little scared of you.

Extremely possessive. She had always been overshadowed by her siblings, and her time abroad without you had really shattered her self confidence. Although she’s deathly afraid her past actions would be revealed, she’s more scared of losing you to someone else.

She thought that by agreeing to date Justin, you’d think of him as disgusting for moving on so fast.

Definitely enjoyed her time on your lap a little too much.

Which brings me to Horni Levels.

If you think Justin is bad. Darling is just the worst out of all the yanderes. She’s the kinkiest one too. She has been saving herself for you, waiting for the time you corrupt her. Hoping that by that time, every obstacle has been removed.

The type to have you fuck her atop the corpses of her rivals kind of kinky. The type to fantasize about you using a knife and inserting in every way possible inside her type of kinky. The type of kinky to fuck your dead body or eat any and every part of you to fully make you two as one.

She’ll own you, dead or alive, one way or another.

How popular! reader feels about her is again, indifference. Maybe a little horni for her soft aesthetic and cute demeanor. Definitely plans to gobble her up once Justin is done playing pretend.

A character that hasn’t been mentioned yet is Isabel Labrador [yan! nerd]

Isabel used to go by the name Isaiah. She used to be pretty alright with being assigned male at birth until popular! reader suddenly announced one day that she’s more horni towards women.

She got disowned for transitioning, and like Darling, disappeared from your life for quite a bit that you forgot about her.

Similar to many of the harem members, she’s very pliant to your whims. She does many of the assignments and projects that aren’t worth your time or would lead to you lacking sleep.

Not like the professors assign you much.

A bit of a whiny brat. Used to be hella spoiled when she was younger so she’s a lot more outspoken when it comes to your sexual escapades. This leads to you beating her up the most out of everyone in the harem.

Popular! Reader is the only one who knows she’s a trans and is surprisingly very respectful about that part about her.

The two of you are mostly amicable.

Horni Levels: Pretty normal for a young adult. Loves to tease you by showing more skin sometimes. Though she always covers up when anyone else is in the picture.

Her hella religious upbringing made her pretty conservative about sex and all that but it’s often balls to the wall when they see you. Literally. Never knew she was into pegging til you took her one day.

How popular! reader feels about her? Mostly a means to an end. She’s the least careful when it comes to her simpery. It gets tiring having to discipline her every time but the angry sex makes up for it.

This one will be short since I plan on him and the rest to be minor characters. Nobody knows how Ricardo Peralta [yan! president] became the President with how much he hates your ass.

People who voted for him were probably like. ‘If a person who doesn’t even want [Y/N] became president. We won’t have a threat.’

Jokes on them he has more notes on you than the entire student body combined.

Boy is the Candace to your Phineas/Ferb. His entire mission is to bust your ass. (and for you to bust a nut in his-)

…

You don’t even know he exists.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST LET’S TALK ABOUT YOU.

It was almost as if you were made to be the apple of everyone’s eye. Not one person in campus could remember a time where they didn’t know you.

No, it was more like they didn’t want to. Why imagine a terrible era such as that?

A lot of the students from the college are spoiled brats that absolutely adored how cut throat you were. How you weren’t afraid to put them in their place unlike those push-overs they usually meet. Some were just drawn to your charisma and confidence.

Or well, just general fuckability.

People think you’re also rich but you just get a lot of stuff from the students with money.

Your birthday is a bloodbath and a half. You started celebrating it alone so that people wouldn’t see your reactions to the gifts. Both because you wanted to keep them guessing and ‘cause the person whose gift is liked will probably get murdered.

You have to routinely check for cameras or tracking devices.

It takes you every bit of your self control not to just twerk in front of the camera if not give it the finger by fucking someone who you know is innocent right in front of it. They don’t even get to see you properly in the angle.

You strategically use pussy as both a punishment and incentive.

It’s super effective!

It’s super effective.

You often use pussy to discipline or incentivize your harem. It’s super effective. At least, considering you haven’t been kidnapped and/or killed yet.

You’re a bit of a sadist.

Yeah you’re a bit of a sadist.

Popular! Reader uses pussy a lot to keep everyone in check. You’re used to giving your body away to get what you want that you’ve become numb to it.

No one is normal in this College. Not even you.

You don’t even know he exists.

1K notes · View notes

mixtapedoh · 26 days

Note

How about lonely boy, lee know, and forced proximity?

@eclliipsed — i am thinking of you, specifically while writing this <3

;༊ — lonely boy

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre: fluff, office setting word count: ~3.6k warnings: language, situational stress, han is here stirring the pot, a startling amount of homicide jokes

olive’s notes: a unique challenge of writing lino fic that i did not before account for or even conceptualize is that when i think of said silly little stray kids cat boy, i think of him almost 99% of the time as 'lino' and like 0.9999999999% of the time as 'lee know'. lee minho? you mean the actor? it's not clicking up here, asdfghj. all that's to say, if i make a mistake and call him lino instead of minho, i'm so sorry, feel free to stone me in the square on whatever day is most convenient for you <3.

☄. *. ⋆ lee minho x forced proximity...

— society, as a collective, just loves their 9 to 5, right?

i mean, if it were actually a 9 to fucking 5, maybe you wouldn't be screaming, crying, throwing up, gnawing on the iron bars of your enclosure.

— but haha, as a general rule (collectively agreed upon at some point, or perhaps no one agreed so much as they were browbeaten into submission), more than society loves their 9 to 5, they love their workplace grindset culture.

gotta get those financial gains, amirite?

— which is all to say, you were simply enamoured, quite totally besotted with, completely captivated by and hopelessly devoted to your demanding, grueling, parasitic life-force of an office job.

and people had the gall to say you didn't have romance in your life.

clearly, they hadn't seen the zeal and devotion with which you dedicated yourself to your company issued computer, stacks of files, and white-walled cubicle.

after all, regular hours simply weren't enough for all the worship you had within you — you simply had to have both your mandatory overtime and your Implicitly Dictated and Oh-So-Reasonably Expected overtime hours as well <3 you did want to keep your job after all, and job security is such a silly little thing <3 corporate culture really is just soooo romantic in that regard <3 complete and utter devotion <3 commitment almost pious <3

until you managed to break away from the curse of Living in a Society and could live without bills, debt, responsibilities, more bills, more debt, and the desire for silly little (but financially substantial) hobbies to make this existence of yours worthwhile, your love affair with your job would simply have to stick.

— which made for the perfect little soup you were currently mired in. a thick broth of learned helplessness seasoned with intense loathing, a dash of interest in low stakes coworker drama, a sprinkling of compulsory people pleasing, a garnish of yes man energy, and an optional mix-in of untapped, constantly simmering rage.

so, of course you were best friends with han jisung.

— the universe really did do you a solid when they placed han jisung in the cubicle next to you.

perhaps the only employee that hadn't succumbed to the incessant humanity-sucking leech affectionately called a company, jisung was the only one who kept you sane when you were 56 hours deep in your work week and considering moving to a homestead on alaska where you would likely not even last a whole 72 hours — but, hey, you would at least get some sleep at the end of it when succumbing to the effects of hypothermia, so it didn't seem that bad of a gig, really (jisung always offered to cover half of the down payment cost, but at the end of the conversation, he'd just buy you a coffee and the two of you would call it even).

— and being friends with jisung was, all at once, both a blessing and a curse.

(because this is corporate living and existence is a fucking nightmare ~°~♫⭒~꘎ )

— poor excuses for jokes in your company chat box, sticky note battles during days when the mundane tasks you were assigned were mind-numbing enough to fell the strongest of corporate warriors, the constant "i owe you" back and forth when one of you went on a coffee or vending machine run and grabbed something for the other, and, of course, juicy gossip during your lunch break — all of these were the positives of being jisung's partner in captalist crime.

— but on the other hand, should either of your work be wanting in any regard... well... accountability is a word long enough to stretch between two.

— which led you to your current state of affairs.

"the next time you forget to delete your 'tongue-in-cheek' speaker notes on the powerpoint we're submitting for review from higher ups, i'm breaking your fingers so you can't type them in the first place."

but of course jisung just turns it into a joke about a hand kink.

— your punishment for 'distasteful' jokes left in the margins of official company output wasn't anything too severe — bless whatever cosmic force made it so that the generally easy going mr. ok taecyeon was the one to see jisung's fuck up, and not someone less forgiving — but it meant the next few weeks would be hell in the form of grunt work.

see, your company was expanding in the industry, and it meant that the building you were currently working in wasn't big enough to house all the ✨aspirational goals✨ it was just starting to believe in. thus, the majority of higher ups were going to move into a new office building... and for some ass-backward reason, so, too were all of the archives.

and someone had to go down there and box it all up, making sure it was properly labeled and in order.

sure, the company was just head-empty enough to have the desire to move physical archives to a new office building. but at least they wanted it all in order before they stuck it in a different dusty basement.

— the very first day you went to the basement and saw the sheer level of work the two of you had in store, you locked eyes with jisung and just knew that fucker was going to find some way to get out of it.

— on your lunch break you tried to beat him to the punch and defend your honor against the soul crushing weight of undue punishment. but alas! you had already taken vacation days in the last month (damn that kpop concert - did you really have to be that devoted to your ult group??) and han hadn't had a day off for the last 6 months.

how the hell did you end up doing the punishment work for actions that weren't even (mostly) yours?

han jisung better move to that alaskan homestead after all, nowhere else would ever be safe from your wrath... once you got out of this basement, of course.

— the most you were given was help in the form of lee minho — who would have thought that he of all people would be your saving grace?

maybe he'd help you plan jisung's murder. they were friends, true, but anyone who was around han long enough would not be opposed to plitting his demise. it was part of his elusive charm, after all. everything wonderful about him also lent itself to fodder for plotting his demise.

convenient, really, given the circumstances you were in.

— but back to lee minho. perfect performance lee minho. always last to leave the office lee minho. infuriatingly not suffering from looking chronically fatigued or daunted, overwhelmed, or simply fazed by the overzealous work culture you found yourselves in, lee minho. curt and focused but lacking of an edge that would make him unapproachable lee minho. impossible to pin down, the vitruvian man of corporate dreams, somehow the bosses favorite despite failing to do any of the sucking up some of your other coworkers engaged in almost religiously lee minho.

he didn't frustrate you; he didn't even really baffle you, but he didn't exactly occupy your brainspace in a way that could be described as indifference, y'know?

maybe this was something you could blame of jisung, too. he always talked about minho an ungodly amount, waxed poetic about how it was a shame that minho worked in a different department — how the two of you really would get along famously, but damn, if he couldn't convince either of you to spend any of your (perhaps two (2)) hours of off-duty life in the same place at the same time.

social lives, after all, were laughable, where the both of you were concerned.

— the day you walked down there and saw minho already elbow deep in a filing cabinet seemingly older than your parents (which, lamentably, was the worst organized filing cabinet you'd ever seen, and was regrettably representative of 95% of the work ahead of you), you laughed out loud and took the moment to convince minho to take a picture for you, so you could tell jisung that he was missing the Historic and Long Anticipated Meet Up, and that was the moment you realized that you were so deep in the basement, phone service was a pipe dream.

it wasn't a concern, really — you were both benefiting from the random employee benefit of free spotify premium, so your downloaded content was enough to get you through the long hours of organizing and packing, and hey! being in the basement meant no one really expected any more out of you than your required hours and whatever mandatory overtime you had left to complete.

— so really, jisung had been stupid as hell to avoid this punishment. it was effectively less work than you were used to (though tedious) and you were far enough away from your desk that the thought of the work piling up in the world above wasn't eating at you that much (at least not any more than usual; workplace anxiety and you were well acquainted, at that point <3)

— and minho! — god forbid you say anything complementary about that bastard han jisung while he left you (more than) 6 feet under, doing work that was, by many rights, his punishment — but he had been right when he said you and minho would gel.

he didn't disturb you, for the most part, but working in the same space for full work days with nothing to do but listen to podcasts and check the dates on dusty files meant that Annoying The Only Other Person In Your Vicinity became a welcome distraction from wallowing in the fact you were moving at a pace slower than desired. and he responded quite well to any question you threw his way - no matter how brain-dead, invasive, or embarrassing. in fact, he'd hit something back - put the ball in your court in a question almost more ridiculous, leaving you to question how jisung hadn't forced the two of you together sooner (but fuck jisung; all my homies are blaming this comedy of errors on jisung and are in this basement actively plotting his demise).

— and it didn't take you long to realize charming minho is almost exactly like getting a neighborhood cat to endear itself to you.

pspspsps at random (bat a stupid ass joke his way);

give him space but respond to his random bids for attention;

have a snack drawer (one of the first emptied out file cabinets furthest to the back of the archival area) and occasionally offer something sweet as a reminder that the snack drawer exists and is for joint indulging;

entertain him with logic puzzles and psychological warfare;

and, of course, shit talk your coworkers and company.

indulge the cats desire for destruction and mayhem; tell minho that whenever he was ready to put in his two-weeks, you'd be right there beside him and would run the paper shredder all night while he corrupted the files.

exist calmly and comfortable in the cat's space; work so well in tandem that you began anticipating the movements of the other.

spend quality time with the cat; both of you begining to wordlessly take your lunches at the table in the archival basement, instead of going all the way back up to the cafeteria, choosing instead to chat with each other and indulge in the other's niche interests and stupidly staunch opinions on poor pieces of media.

slow blink at the cat; catch yourself staring for a bit too long when he doesn't notice you looking, your thoughts getting all muffled and sappy as you become wholly fascinated by the slope of his nose and the softness of his big, dark eyes that look perpetually half-bored at work but sparkle with intelligence and mischief when you call out his name — lighting up with interest and disguised delight as that lazy, gummy smile makes it's way onto his features, eyebrows quirking upward, already expecting a challenge and...

— wait... what was that?

— is there absestos in the company walls, and that's why they decided to randomly move buildings? is there lead lining these filing cabinets? black mold in the ceiling? were you perhaps inhaling narcotics in this dusty ass air and hallucinating something vivid?

you were not developing a crush on someone just because you were stuck in the basement with this fool for going on two weeks now and hadn't seen another good looking coworker in quite some time. this wasn't some kind of drama where the ceo has a strange delight in forcing company employees into situations laced with ✨sexual tension✨. you weren't a main lead suffering from romantic withdrawals. remember your leech of a company. you have no time for shit like that.

— but, i mean, if you're never out of the office, perhaps finding romance in office is a solution...

shut the fuck up, you and minho weren't even in the same department. that point was moot.

— because damn, maybe asbestosis really was getting to you, and that's what was knocking the wind out of you any time minho smiled. yes, certainly the absestos in the walls was what was informing the way your heart constricted whenever the two of you brushed hands passing a file between you. maybe you should sue your company and have some hospital use you as a case study. maybe all the distracted daydreams was a new symptom of your newly contracted deadly disease.

see, that would make sense. you weren't catching a mean case of crushing on your forced proximity coworker, you were simply dying. because of the absestos.

— but even still, the day both of you piled all the boxes of (appropriately lableled) filing into a work car, and minho drove you over to the new building, the fresh air didn't seem to be a cure all. you were still a little more than distracted by his messy hair and black sunglasses... his concentration on the road... his pushed up sleeves... not to mention his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

(but of course you'd snap out of your thoughts when you remember that joke jisung made about your supposed hand kink at the beginning of all this nonsense. shut the fuck up, memory ghost jisung. you don't know shit. you and minho had already talked about it and were coming for his broke ass the day he had the courage to step foot in the office again.)

— yeah, haha, you weren't crushing on lee minho because of a comedy of errors you had never dreamed would befall you in the first place. working alongside him hadn't woken anything in you. certainly not.

— and yeah, haha, you'd definitely be able to hide this from jisung when he came back. not a problem at all when he asks you about how sorting archives went (he had the gall to bring it up every five minutes — taunting you with the fact that he got to have 4 days off and was then reassigned to do answer all the emails that had piled up during his time out of office. yes, he had picked up some of the work originally meant to go to you, but still. a veritable traitor who deserved your absence from your usual lunch dates. and yes, it was hard to be slick when he'd bring up your casual absence from lunch — were you finding minho's company to be more than enough? — but you'd manage. like hell were you going to give the smug bastard satisfaction after he made you atone for his and also your crimes.).

— and yeah, haha, you'd would definitely be able to explain to a suspicious and put out jisung why you were canceling anime re-run night with him to instead go with minho to this hybrid cat-and-comic-book-cafe he had mentioned never being able to get a reservation for, despite living two blocks away from it. silly little things like that would be easy to wave away, right.

it's like, totally platonic for you and minho to meet up on your only day off to spend hours lounging at a cafe retreat together where you cooed at semi-sociable cats and joked about adopting and co-parenting the one who enjoyed wearing cute hats, and read comic books for hours and order food to share and have low-stakes debates about the best tropes and characters of shared beloved media.

it's not like that whole set up is incredibly date coded.

and it's not like it would become a recurring habit for minho to invite you to do things with him that would have jisung waggling his eyebrows even as you pleaded innocence and smacked him with whatever quasi-weapon you just so happened to have on your desk (mostly file folders and your favorite cat themed mini calendar).

— haha... it wasn't like you were down bad and incredibly bad at hiding your crush.

...right?

— you fool. you absolute buffoon. han jisung could smell your lies and poorly contained crush from thousands of leagues away. even if you weren't shit at hiding it, he would have known. he could have actually been on that remote homestead in alaska and still picked up on just how brain dead you were over your crush. you thought you were slick? when han jisung has a doctorate in anxious suspicion and twelve master's degrees in the art of bullshitting?

hell, he knew you were going to fall in love with minho before the two of you even met. why do you think he'd wanted to connect the two of you in the first place? because he thought you two needed a social life? please — he knew going in that putting the two of you in the same room was horrible for his self preservation; he knew it was practically undermining company goals because your joint productivity would fall 2000% and the amount of cat memes you two would send on company time would increase so exponentially, you'd both resort to making your own memes using your company paid subscription to adobe creative cloud; he knew that the two of you were almost scarily well matched and equally devoted to drinking your refusal-to-believe-i-can-be-loved-romantically juice.

he knew that you and minho would develop glaring crushes on each other and wouldn't do a damn thing about it beyond smoothly flirting for an afternoon, inviting the other out on dates-that-aren't-dates and promptly fake-gagging and denying in a manner almost theatric that you might *gasp* enjoy the other's company in a way not-so-platonic, only to do it all over again. a vicious cycle of 'stop feeding the rest of us lies and just kiss with tongue already, damnit.' and he knew all of your coworkers would be caught in the middle of it.

— which they were. for, like, a solid five months.

— now, it wasn't too bad, considering the fact that you and minho worked in different departments, but anytime there was cause for collaboration, suddenly you were clambering to be considered, no matter the intense workload or the way the task was slightly out of your wheelhouse. suddenly, it seemed you were incredibly eager to learn and prove yourself.

at first, your team leader was overjoyed. initiative? drive? a seeming zest and fire for more commitment? say less and do more! marry yourself to the dumbass collaboration with the other department! perhaps this could mean freedom for their long suffering servitude under the corporate thumb!

but then they saw you flirting with minho and making plans to spend an afternoon together at a book signing while still on the clock. and while they're not opposed to a bit of misuse of company time (vive la révolution contre les régimes capitalistes, and all that), it was a bitter and sobering pill to watch that shit happen daily while not getting any yourself, and then stomaching the fact that these clearlly love-struck fuckers won't admit their own transparency-set-to-0% feelings and put their chronically-single corporately-suffering coworkers to rest. either say you're in love and just be done with it or take the rest of us out with a shot gun. goddamn.

it's like a sitcom's mind-numbingly over-the-top valentine's day special. someone make it stop.

— and it didn't take a genius to connect the dots and realize that the employee responsible for all of this was han jisung.

after all, he's the mutual friend between them. no doubt he talked about the other constantly in glowing terms. no doubt he planted the seed they'd be a match made in heaven. no doubt he was the one to blame.

and! wasn't it his fuck up that forced you and minho to work together in the archives to begin with?

maybe killing han jisung wasn't going to make you and minho confess to each other, but it would be some kind of catharsis for the people who were stuck in this hell of Watching You Two Take Your Sweet Time With It.

— so jisung had to understandably think of some kind of plot. after all, the two of you were his best friends, but to hope that you would admit your feelings for someone to save his livelihood? don't be ridiculous. the both of you were quite happy with the flirting stage, as it currently stood.

— how to get your stubborn friends to admit their (very real and very reciprocated) feelings for each other... when there's no external or even internal pressure (on them, at least) to do so... jisung would have to think outside of the box.

or perhaps inside of it.

— which i'm sure is reason enough to explain how the both of you managed to get stuck in a closet during your company's holiday party.

and, through it all, is minho's mischievous eyes and your flair for the dramatic.

"do you think we should tell our coworkers we've been dating?"

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

#olive.writes #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know imagine #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #yeah i still dk fully how to tag but hey; my other headcanon set did good so maybe i'm doing something right #also hi please tell me if you've ever been personally attacked by nosy coworkers and what your coping strategy is #mine is also compulsory and pathologically lying so i feel like lino and i understand each other that much at least

132 notes · View notes