#completely and utterly unrelated to what im doing right now

[bicon-crange]

anyways going nuts about this again

IM SO BAD AT THIS STUFF IM SO BAD AT IT ITS UNREAL!!! GAH!!

I literally feel like a middle schooler or something. I'm getting jealous over tiny petty things, I'm getting angry over nothing and going FINE! if they dont want to talk to me I'll just ignore them!! I'm doing that thing where I like. bully. In this case all in a playful way and among friends but GAH I feel so so so bad for doing it at all.

Like maybe it IS better if I just don't talk to them if I'm going to be mean. I dont even know why I'm doing it!! what do I want out of this?? attention or something?? IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE TO ME.

ITS SO STUPID!!! And again its like I feel like I'm just. watching myself do all this and screaming at myself like WHAT ARE YOU DOOOINGGGG!!!

ugh. I mean, I think I'm handling all these immature feelings like an adult yknow? I start to get mad or jealous and I realize that and distance myself. Go on my own a little bit. I dont take it out on them or anybody else. I'm doing my best to respect this person and remember their boundaries and agh! AGHHH I just feel so stupid and immature and lame for even FEELING like that to begin with, for ACTING like that even if its friendly.

On top of that, people who AREN'T me have started to notice. Like. I brought it up to my therapist and ONE sentence in she was like OH YOURE TOTALLY SMITTEN!! like girl yes but i didnt even TELL YOU THAT YET. It makes me worry that I'm being so totally obvious. Like, I'm under the impression right now that they have NO idea, which is GREAT!!

But god if they knew this whole time and are just completely and utterly uninterested and just watching me make a fool of myself? HOW FUCKING MORTIFYING!!! HOW FUCKING EMBARRASSING!!! GODDDD.

side note;unrelated, I'm thinking of setting up a screentime limit on my phone because this is the THIRD WEEKEND IN A ROW where i have just sat for an hour+ and reread our conversation over and over and not done anything else. LIKE!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE WITH THAT!! There's an 100% chance that they DON'T do this and that they DON'T think itll be cute or charming or sweet or what fucking ever. BECAUSE ITS WEIRD AND ITS CREEPY AND UGHHHHH. UGH.

I have thought more than once this week about just telling them. Yknow just ripping that bandaid off and getting rejected and moving on. Unfortunately for me! My therapist advised against it. She said I should sit with this longer to see if I even like them. I say that I'm stuck in this dumb little prison and I'd like to just get out now, but she's the professional, not me.

[charmspoint]

Top 5 characters that live in your head rent free 🤔

For this ask meme

Oh god ONLY five??? GOOD QUESTION. This is gonna be hard to both decide on and rank fairly uhoh lets see, this ranking his shifty as hell depending on what I’m into atm obvs

5. Tsurugi Kamiya from Servamp

Does he look like a knock off Izaya? Yes. Is he? Very much no.

Tsurugi is like my no 1 reason for getting back into Servamp, I left right in the middle of his arc and I ;-; IS HE OKAY??? DID HE GET AWAY FROM TOUMA??? DID HE BECOME WRATHS EVE??? NOBODY TELL ME I’LL FIND OUT ON MY OWN.

Servamp was one of those shows where I didn’t really have a fav main character for a good while until this guy showed up. This guy is an absolute crazy little monster I can’t overemphasize on this, his coat is used as a fucking straight jacket I’m not even kiddin

You get introduced to him and he’s scary and terrifying because he’s so strong, like he’s one of those strongest in the series characters and since he and the heroes are on semi opposing sides he is a serious threat. So you get introduced to this guy who seems borderline crazy and feral and then...you get to see him goofing off with his two boyfriends and their kid and it’s just

The domesticity!!!!Look at it!!!! It’s so fucking cute aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, they are so cute together OT3 of C3 ftw, MY SON. Like Tsurugi had a horribly abusive childhood and was basically raised like an attack dog and his previous partner :) well he do be trying to seriously kill him don’t he. But look! He found his own little family he can be semi normal in!! Until is torn apart by his abusive adoptive father figure :D!!! I ABANDONED HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THAT ARC AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

im sorry this got so long on this particular character none of the others will be so long i just miss him TSURUGI ILL CATCH UP FOR YOU!!!! Maybe he should have been no 1 hbjhbjh fucking sleeper agents am i right

4. Izaya Orihara from Durarara

Ah yes, the og queen bitch. Has my taste for villains ever recovered from Izaya? No. If your villain isn’t at least a bit like Izaya I’m not interested. Durarara was one of my first serious fandoms and Izaya was the first character I ever wrote for and I think you can explain me as a person if you consider Izaya was my all time fav at 13. I can’t really say anything about Izaya that hasn’t been said thousands of times before, I love how goofy and overperformative he can be, I love how there’s so much in him once you crack him open, I love how good of a villain he is for a messy story such as DRRR, puppeteer villains are really a league of their own. We need more puppeteering twinks, maybe then I’d be more into villains yaknow.

3. Hawks from Boku no Hero Academia 

To no ones surprise!Him! I’ve been drifting off from BNHA recently what from catching bad case of JJK what from just reading n watching more other stuff and honestly that’s probably good because I’ve been into BNHA for a couple of years now as my main fandom and I really could have used a break. Not to say I don’t like BNHA anymore tbh I think right now BNHA is the best it’s ever been just ya know, drifting. That being said my love for Hawks will never die, god what a good boy and we got his backstory too aaa ;-;. BNHA was just like Servamp, something I liked but didn’t really have a fav character in until this random support character strolled in and won my heart. God I love how much we got on Hawks. He’s completely different from his initial impression and his unrelenting strive to do good despite being thrown from one horrible situation to the next is just ;-; HES SUCH A GOOD BOY. He’s selfless to a fault, literally putting everyone before himself and putting himself down for not being able to achieve more than is humanly possible I’m just ;-; I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY. He just makes my heart happy, he’s good and warm and hardworking and in a manga where trauma plays such a major role in so many characters it’s so good to see Hawks there, having been through three different types of hell and still coming out unnerving in his goodness. All I want for him is to have a good life and to one day be able to smile for real.

2. Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen

Again no surprise since I’ve been so into jjk lately. Satoru is p high up rn cuz I’m mainly into JJK now but god knows where he will actually settle. He’s not even really my favorite character in the show, that goes to Inumaki, but this is a list of who I think about the most (tho all of these characters are either no 1 or no 2 for their shows) and boy my brother and foxy can tell you I’m constantly thinking about this bitch. I didn’t really care about him that much at the start but then I got to Hidden Inventory and OH BOY MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. Satoru is such a wonderfully complex character whos evolution you can clearly follow through the years. He’s under so much pressure as the strongest sorcerer to deal with everything and he has to operate in that system trying to change it for the better while at the same time trying to make sure his students arent sacrificed in the name of that change. He has a very goofy disposition but along side with Nanamin who’s a lot more explicit about it, it’s clear he cares about mental state of his students a whole lot. He knows this world is terrible and that the will come out of it with scars and that he can’t protect them from all of it, but he balances protecting and letting them grow as much as he can. They need to grow so jujutsu society can change after all, but they also need to be protected so they don’t fuckin die before that can happen. This is without all the many many opinions I have on Hidden Inventory and SatoSugu as a whole, how they influenced each other, how differently they reacted to their shared trauma (Funny how everyone on this list is fuckin traumatized) and what resulted from it. How their fucking love story is dramatic enough to be a Shakespeare play. Also I like it when he’s long and goofy ahahah

1. Chuuya Nakahara from Bungou Stray Dogs

Not to objectify men on main but I couldn’t choose a picture 

If there is ever a day when I don’t go feral over Chuuya I’ll probably be dead. He not only lives in my head rent free he owns the place.

HES SO UNDERUSED.

BSD has such a great setup with Chuuya, like he’s ex partners with the mentor of the main character who got betrayed and abandoned when the mentor left shared evil organization. Sounds like grounds for drama right? YOUD THINK SO. Like Chuuya and Dazai have such a great and interesting dynamic and you can feel how strained it is from the distance and betrayal and they bicker and fight as their defining relationship trait BUT there is such a strong underlying trust to all the fighting. These two trust each other with their whole lives and that hasn’t changed despite everything, despite how much time has passed and how much that trust had been tested. So you’d think he’d be an important character :) HES STUCK IN SUPPORT HONESTLY HES STUCK IN BACKGROUND UNLESS HES NEEDED TO DO SOMETHING COOL AAAAAA. Chuuya is literally one of a kind, I’ve never seen a character with such a good design and such an cool power and such an interesting relationship to one of the main characters and such a love and support from the fandom BE SO UTERLLY AND COMPLETLY WASTED. Even when we get Chuuya scraps they rarely build on relationship he has in canon but just throw in new random ones at him (tho that’s a broader problem of Kafka throwing new characters at the plot instead of developing the one he already has really). We get a hint of a cool fight with him? Completely cut out, More often then not it just feels like he is benched because he’s so damn strong there would just be no plot tension if he went in and broke some heads (which is also a problem with Satoru, guys stop writing op characters if you’ll just put em on the bus aaa). Anyway he’s completly and utterly wasted by the plot.

And it’s such a waste because he’s such a good character. Like he’s a member if the villain organization and is obviously by that very vicious and violent but also so empathetic and kind to people he considers his friends. He and Dazai have the brawn and brain thing going on and stg Chuuya is like the only brawn I can think of that is classier then their brain. Look at how this guy dressed, he’s high class gay, hat, choker, coat, gloves, he is bringing in the looks. I love how he can actually be completely calm and rational and put together but then put him with Dazai and it’s back to ‘we are 15 and we will scream out heads off at each other’, they are so childish. 

Anyway I love Chuuya he deserves to be treated better and I will never stop screaming about Chuuya ever

[crowsent]

languages are fun. until youre standing in the fucking bathroom begging your father not to put your plush owl in a bucket

my father (the engineer who put wasabi on a rotisserie chicken and then announced that chickens had 4 legs, and also did not plug in the steamer when trying to cook and it took him 2 hours to realise it) knocked on the bathroom door

i was in the bathroom. because i left my bracelet there. im tearing that goddamn bathroom brick by brick because i cant find my fucking bracelet. completely forgot where i left it. ive been in there a long time. and my father knocked on the door and asked “what are you doing in the bathroom?”

and, because im filipino and none of us answer the questions given to us properly, i said, “yeah, im in the bathroom. why?” which does not answer the question he asked. which started this whole shit.

now. my choice of words here were. “yeah. nasa CR ako.” im in the bathroom.

and the word “bakit?” which is why?

now. if yall havent realised. “bakit” sounds a lot like “bucket”

and the sentence can be easily interpreted as: “yeah, im in the bathrom. bucket?”

which does not make fucking sense. but again. were filipinos. we look at logical questions and logical answers and we shove them into a canal

so my father goes “okay. ill bring you a bucket.”

which answers a question i did not even fucking ask.

so i say. “why?” as in, the english word “why?”

because hey if filipino wont work imma try english

now. if yall havent realised. “why?” sounds a lot like the colour “white” especially if you have a tagalog accent

so my father, thoroughly confused now, says “we don’t have a white bucket. but i can tell mom to buy one??”

and myself, learning nothing from my mistakes, did not say “no. we don’t need a white bucket.”

my dumb bitchass said “why do we need a white bucket?”

and the words i chose were “bakit kailanggan ng bucket.”

which. as im sure yall have realised. is a very poor fucking choice of words.

my father interpreted it as “bucket. i need a bucket” and goes and says “i can walk to a walgreens and see if they have one right now”

which is sweet. but not what i wanted.

again. instead of saying “no. i dont a bucket”

i ask him “why?”

and, of fucking course. i used the word “bakit”

so now my father, completely and utterly flabbergasted is now thinking that maybe i did not mean “bakit” as in “bucket’ thinks of something completely fucking different and goes “your owl??”

my plush owl. which i got in middle school during my peak homestuck phase.

a goddamn plush owl. that i lovingly and jokingly named “bucket”

so my father, thought that i, somehow, wanted my plush owl in a bucket in the bathroom

and i had to abandon my search for the bracelet to open the door and tell him. very clearly. that i do not want bucket in a bucket.

yes. the entire problem can be solved by me opening the door in the first place so we dont get weird reverb echo in the convo but consider: i am gay and i am stupid

unrelated to the bakit/bucket dilemma. my bracelet was in the bathtub. on the other side of the bathroom. i do not know why it is IN the tub. i do not know how it got there. i refuse to question the gods at this point

anyway how yall doin

[unpopularly-opinionated]

RE: My post earlier about the Ooblets Epic Games Exclusive backlash.

I’m not going to show the Twitter user, if you follow the indie game development scene on Twitter it’s likely you’ll recognize this tweet, either way that’s not who I am. The Ooblet’s account on the other hand is fair-game since it’s basically a product placement.

I feel it needs reiterating how utterly dense this kind of tweet is, and how completely skewed the narrative for this issue has gotten, so let me reiterate in obnoxiously large and emboldened font to try and get the point across:

THE GAMING COMMUNITY IS NOT TOXIC

“Honesty” and “transparency” are all well and good, but unless you’re honestly trying to drive away your own community, perhaps you should try being a little less honest and a little less transparent. No one (or I guess no one but this guy and the few who agree with him) is going to thank you for honestly throwing them under the proverbial bus after they’ve spent months, if not years, supporting your project; your dream.

I’ve heard from others that “this is just how they write” and “it’s meant to be funny”, and to an extent, I can understand that. But let me just include some screenshots from the post in question to reiterate my point, because I feel like my previous post didn’t quite get the point across:

(Context: What the Epic Games Exclusivity Deal means for you, the fan and/or financial backer of Ooblets).

I get that the Fortnite bit is the joke, ha ha, Fortnite used to be wildly popular, I get it, good meme. What isn’t the joke, and what was part of why people got upset was the first bit, specifically the “download the Epic Games Launcher and make an Epic Games account” bit, that bit.

Now, I personally have no qualms about having the Epic Games Launcher on my PC. I have long since looked beyond the ‘scandal’ of tech companies saving and selling my data to distant lands to be used for nefarious moneymaking schemes. Is it bad? Sure, maybe. Would I prevent it had I the chance? Of course. Do I have that chance? Not a chance in the world, so I decide to live with it.

That said, many others have not reached that point of fuck it, and understandably so. I hit that point because of my negative outlook on society as a whole but, praise be, there are in fact still some optimists out there who look at these shitty corporate tactics and say no to them, and good on them for that.

That is what I would say is the bulk of the primary issues people have with the Epic Games Store. The missing features bits aren’t terribly important, as even this post says, if you have a social life on Steam, then use Steam. The EGS does not need to be your do-all replacement.

This is where the post should have stopped. Here and now, had this post ended, any and all issues with this decision would have been but a whisper in the wind. As I said in my previous post, yes they undoubtedly would have received plenty of critical, and non-critical backlash for the decision regardless, but ending the post here would’ve 100% put the developers on the right side in this situation and I’d be right up there agreeing with that tweet.

(Context: Are you angry at Epic and/or us for this decision?)

Referring to earlier when I said that playful tone and humour are all fine and dandy, I understand that this is probably meant to sound playful and humourous, but it comes across as largely self-important and ignorant, and the bits that follow do in no way dissuade from that appearance.

While my response to this complaint was similar to their own, in that you should just use Steam for the features that the Epic Games Store lacks, they go on to essentially say that this is just baby EGS and that Steam used to be just like it and look at it now.

While they aren’t technically wrong, from a development point of view, the big thing they need to understand is how web standards have dramatically changed since 2003 when the Steam store launched. Launching a store, of any variety, without a shopping cart is a big no-no.

As far as missing features go, that’s not like missing a friends list or a IM feature, that’s missing a crucial part of a web-based storefront. Imagine going to a store and only be allowed to purchase one thing at a time, that would be ridiculous.

Their response to this was as corporate as any triple-A publisher, or really any corporation at all, from any industry. Just a complete disconnect from society that frankly is unwarranted from what is quite literally a two person operation. Not to mention, their response is quite literally what every parent warns their kids about at a young age. “But mooooooooooooom, everyone is doing it!!!!” Yes sweetie, but if everyone jumps off a bridge, are you going to?

Apparently, yes.

And not to discount the idea of making money, by all means make money, but let me put it this way, had they left this post exactly where I said they should have previously, all of the blame would be at Epic’s feet. Because at the end of the day, having your game be exclusive to one service does not make you money, it makes them money. So this whole “everyone is doing it” schtick doesn’t fly when coming from the developers. Had this been a post by Epic (and frankly with all the shilling I could be convinced it was from them) then this argument might have made just a tiny bit more sense.

Underlined in yellow are the jokes; the “playful” and “humourous” attitude I’ve heard so much about. Underlined in red however, are what the developers are actually genuinely saying with complete and utter seriousness.

“There are worse things in the world to be upset about.” I kid you not, that’s their argument.

Now, all of that reiterated, to get to the actual point of this post (wish Tumblr let you do multiple “Keep Reading” lines but I digress), the article linked in the tweet here is about the previous “non-critical” backlash I mentioned they’d receive, though multiplied exponentially by their horrendous blog post, and further community responses to said blog post.

I’d like to refer to a completely unrelated post I made quite a while ago that really needs to spread like wildfire if you ask me:

RECEIVING INSULTS, UNCRITICAL FEEDBACK, AND/OR DEATH THREATS DOES NOT INVALIDATE THE CRITICAL FEEDBACK NOR THE ISSUE AT HAND.

I am by no means wiping away death threats or mean words as things to scoff at, by all means take them as seriously as you will, but under no circumstances should 20+ people telling you to kill yourself invalidate the hundreds of fans and financial backers who are upset with your recent financial decision, or your response to criticisms to those decisions.

This happens time and time and time again. Someone of note does something bad, for one reason or another, and instead of responding to the completely warranted and justified criticism and feedback they instead play up the 15+ people who IM’d them to drink bleach and throw it up as “an example of the ever present toxic gaming community”.

More or less, the substance to this article is their “apology”, and I use that term very loosely but I’ll get to that, to the community at large for the recent events. The post summarizes the issue from their (biased) perspective, posts some screenshots of the colourful responses they’ve received, the usual woe-is-me schtick.

I’d like to highlight a few bits from it to further exemplify the continued mindset of these people:

I have given the full context to this next statement with these screenshots so that I can now take parts of these statements out of their context to, at least to my belief, succinctly identify the mindset of these folks:

“I understand the relationship people think they might be owed when they exchanged money for goods or services, but...we’ve never actually sold them anything and don’t owe them anything at all.”

I don’t want to get off-topic any more than necessary, but this, this right here is why fundraisers, Kickstarters, GoFundMes, Patreon subscriptions, or any other form of crowdsourcing platforms need to be handled with extreme care. I hesitate to say regulated legally, but I am by no means opposed to that idea.

I want to express this carefully and plainly: LEGALLY, yes they are absolutely right that they do not owe anyone anything. At least to my knowledge, they didn’t have a formal Kickstarter, their financial backing came primarily from whatever it is they do for a living AND the support of their Patreon backers.

And while I do not feel that it needs addressing, for the sake of consistency I will address it: MORALLY they owe the game to anyone who financially supported them with the express purpose of developing the game.

“We definitely owe all of you who supported us, but also fuck off you entitled cunts because we don’t owe you shit.”

When in the face of well-deserved criticism, deflect deflect deflect. As if a broken record, I’d like to again emphasize that yes, legally they owe no one anything. Morally, they do. Legally, they don’t. Morally, yes. Legally, no.

This, in essence, is a response to the majority of people who are like me, who aren’t screaming vitriolic personable attacks, telling them to drink bleach, long jog off a short pier, the works. Essentially: “If you aren’t with us, then you’re against us.”

Because apparently pointing out your blatant mischaracterisation of the gaming community, your outrageously awful personal relations skills, and most especially your morally bankrupt understanding of the relationship between you and the people financially supporting your passion project means we are, by their logic, on a level equivalent in nature to the 10+ people telling them to drink bleach.

Fixed for typos:

Remember how I said this was an “apology” in the loosest form, well what I was referring to was how in the beginning during their (totally unbiased) summary of the events, they more or less said “Sorry you didn’t respond the way we wanted you to.” Beyond that, yeah, it’s not an apology.

And why would we expect one? Nothing they have spat out in the face of their fans so far has even a hint of self-realization or self-reflection in it. Even their acknowledgement of their (horrendously under exaggerated) bad PR skills comes across as a hollow acknowledgement, if it can even be referred to as an acknowledgement at all, because if you truly truly acknowledged it, then this post wouldn’t exist.

As to this anti-Semitic fabrication making the rounds, I have not seen it so I will take their word for it that they did not make one, especially since I have seen fabricated evidence involving Discord messages rearranged out of order. What I feel needs addressing specifically in this chunk though is his reference to “my messages taken out of context to insinuate I don’t care about our patrons/fans”, because if you’ve seen my previous post then you’ll know no amount of context makes this statement look good:

Sure, it’s a true statement of fact now that they have Epic’s money, but it’s fairly obvious that it reads “We have Epic’s money now, we don’t need you anymore.” I’m sure they didn’t mean that, but that when combined with their other statements regarding how they don’t owe their patrons anything, what they are saying is clear as day.

But hey, credit where credit is due, at least with this we can agree:

But of course, as these people are now infamously known for not ending their posts where they reasonably should...

Now I know how much money goodwill, faith, and morals make, and again I would fully expect this kind of response from the likes of EA, Ubisoft, Bethesda, or fuck even Amazon or Facebook to show that corporate greed has no industry bounds, but this is a two person team whose passion project is to make this game which is being financially supported by loyal fans and future customers.

And that’s just it, that is the mind-boggling part to me, that this is all just the self-important, mischaracterising, morally bankrupt, and childishly ignorant ramblings of a small little husband and wife duo.

In summary...

As was said in the blog post, I’m sure that looking from the outside in we don’t get to see the full scope of the vitriolic comments they’re receiving, so to that I give them credit, and the most sincerest of apologies. I’ve received a few death threats and vitriolic hate-filed messages in my time on the internet, and while personally I am unphase by them, I can fully understand that it can be damaging to one’s self-esteem and self-confidence, especially when it comes in relation to your passion project. I am sorry.

But unwarranted, hate-filled, vitriolic, suicide-baiting messages do not invalid those of us criticizing you for the things that you did do, the words that you did say, and the actions that you did take. I mentioned this in my previous post, but as it stands, the centerpiece to this issue isn’t even about the Epic Exclusivity Deal anymore, it’s about you. You and your treatment, of not just the community at large (for which, might I add, is your primary customer base), but of your treatment towards your loyal fans and financial supporters along the way.

You, for whatever reason, act as most of us have come to expect a soulless and faceless triple-A publisher would, when in fact you are just a two person team with public faces. You’re taking the shots that the likes of EA, Activision, or Bethesda would and have taken, but you’re forgetting that it is above and beyond easier to find you then it is to find them.

All we, but more importantly your fans want from you is for you to make the best game that we all know you’re capable of. And for those who supported you this far along the way to be given even an ounce of respect, despite you not needing their support anymore.

[feel199x]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚apple of my eye ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ VI

gang!au, gang member!han jisung, band member!han jisung. florist! reader

I  II  III  IV V VI VII VIII IX X masterlist

a/n: oof man. this and the next chapter will be the heaviest chapters. but! this series is coming to a close soon! also this chapter made me mad even though im the writer so uh good luck

warnings: themes of abuse and kidnapping, swearing

                                 ┍━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┑

His hand was on your thigh, tracing circles on your knee as you drove. Your hands were clumped together, held together by zip ties that dug into the bone of your wrist. You’ve been here before, in this position. You had woken up suddenly and you didn’t know where you were. You had been very careful to not stray too far from your block, the farthest you’ve ever been from your shop being the time that Jisung brought you to meet your friends.

Jisung.

You were crying again, not caring about how you looked. You felt so guilty, so burdened by your own existence. You hadn’t meant for Jisung to make that decision, it kept replaying in your head like a broken record. His face, his shaking arm. You wanted to tell him you were alright, that he didn’t have to worry. It wasn’t his place to, it wasn’t his burden to uplift. But you knew how Jisung was, how he just felt more. You were one to tear up during sad movies, but rarely would you cry. But Jisung was different, every time without fail, he would end up crying. He would hold you, claiming that you needed to be comforted as he rambled about how much he liked you. Your cries were muffled by the cloth, but it was still noisy.

He squeezed your thigh.

“You know it took me a while to find you,” he said, anger building up in voice, “But I did. When I saw you with that bastard. What was his name? Jisung?” You looked at him, seeing his face become tight as he tried to maintain his composure. “I couldn’t believe it, I wanted to kill him right then and there. But I had to wait, and it was hard, it was hard,” he squeezed the part just above your knee hard enough to leave a bruise, “And you’re such a hypocrite, breaking up with me because I’m in a gang. But know you’re with him?” You knew what he was implying, and you couldn’t help but yell muffled protest. He pulled down the cloth, “Use that pretty mouth properly, baby.”

“Jisung wouldn’t. He would never. He’s leagues better than you.”

He laughed, grabbing you by the hair. “You’re lucky you’re pretty huh? Wouldn’t get anywhere with a head like that.” He pulled your hair tighter, “And you should shut up, huh? What a waste of a pretty mouth.”

“Jisung is a good person,” you argued, refusing to believe that Jisung could ever be in the same field as him, “He’d never hurt anyone. He’s not like you.”

“You don’t use your fucking head do you?” He tapped the side of your head, “You don’t think it’s fuckin’ weird that he has a gun even though he’s like 19? How his friends have guns? How he goes off the grid and won’t even text you, the one he loves?”

“He’s,” your voice wavered as you stuttered, “He’s in a band. He’s busy. He’s popular. I’ve heard him sing. He’s good.”

“You’re so annoying when you talk. You really are only good for one thing.” All you heard before you passed out was the cracking of the window glass.

You awoke in a room, all dark. There wasn’t anything in the room, no furniture, not even a bed. You got up, hoisting yourself up from your legs. But you were weak, no strength to carry them, and you fell. You stayed there, nose bleeding as you cried. You felt weak, overwhelmed. The only reason you were able to escape them was because the feds busted his house for drugs. Someone would think that he’d be arrested, put away for life. But they found no drugs, and even though you fought in court- having to face him again, you lost the case. They said you lead him on, had never really said ‘no’, and that you were into this sort of thing. And you cried, you completely broke down in the courtroom, the entirety of the jury witnessing your weak moment. They didn’t have any proof, no evidence, but he still wasn’t put away. He had told lie upon lie, and he had gotten away with it. You coughed into the carpet, using it rough texture to wipe your face as you finally sat back up.

The only other thing you could think about was Jisung and your flower shop. Things were adding up in your head, even when you didn’t want them to. Jisung may have been in a gang, but Jisung was still better than your captor. You thought about the flowers he brought you, the daisies and you wish you could see him again. You wished to feel another daisy petal in your hand, You wanted to slow dance in the kitchen with Jisung again, you wanted to sleep in the same bed with limbs entangled. You missed him. You wanted to hear his voice again, hear him sing you to sleep again. You had just gotten your flower shop back again, and you missed the mixture of all their aromas, the feel of the petals. You wanted to reverse time. You wanted, wanted, and wanted.

You might’ve felt helpless, but you were no damsel in distress. Even as you continued to cry, you tried to break the zip ties- to no avail. But you had practiced, you had trained for this even when you didn’t want to. Because you knew he wouldn’t stop until he found you again, and even though it hurt to have to relive that memory- you did. Even though it was nearly no fucking help. He must’ve heard you hit your hands against your back in order to break the zip ties, because he burst in.

“I see you’re awake.”

You didn’t respond, moving to the back corner of the room. You were terrified, shaking and trembling like a dog. You could feel your face getting messy again, and you were starting to hiccup. “Why can’t you be good for me?” he yelled, pulling your hair and dragging you as you fell, “Why can’t you just be a good girl for me?” He dropped you on the kitchen floor the cold tile against your face as it hit the floor. He sat at the kitchen table and ate, watching you as you watched him.

“You gonna be good?” he asked lowly, “You gonna behave for me?

You wanted to curse at him, yell at him. You wanted, wanted, and wanted. He smiled at you, pleased with the lack of your response. “Good girl,” he cooed, placing a plate down on the floor, “Good girl.” You needed time, to gain his trust. You were going to escape, going to go back to Jisung and your flower shop, but you needed time. If you didn’t time this correctly, then you had no chance. There was no way to gain his trust ever again in hopes of being able to exploit it. But you felt humiliated, having to eat your food like a dog. You were hiccuping now, your head throbbing and you couldn’t even rub the pain away. So you didn’t, you backed away and sat back up, leaning against the kitchen’s island.

You were in his home, you had to be. It was nice, sophisticated and large. The kitchen itself was bigger than your shop, and you hated every part of this house. It was built on blood money, and you knew it. He didn’t deserve any part of this house, he deserved to be behind bars.

You felt the type of anger you had felt before again, the type that would leave faster than it came. And even though you were a crying, blubbering mess, your body was as hot as a furnace, heating up and only getting hotter. He had wronged you, he had ruined your life. He made you feel scared and utterly alone, and the only two things that were helping you, your flowers and Jisung, he was trying to take it away. And it made you hot with rage, it was the type of anger that would give you courage.

“Why aren’t you eating?” he slammed his fists on the dining table, making it shake, “I got it made just for you. Why won’t you eat it, baby?” You were snapped away from your blank stare at the food, and with it simmered your anger. He stabbed the table with a kitchen knife, letting it stand alone as his fork clattered on the table. “I’ve done everything for you! I spent almost two years looking for you! And you won’t even stop crying!” You were sniffing, trying to rub your face against your shirt. He rose from the table, hitting your head against the underside of the kitchen island. “I’m gonna feed you this food, okay?” he hit your head again, “And you’re gonna eat it, okay, baby?” You nodded weakly, lip quivering. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

So, he did. Slowly feeding you the food and threatening you if you took too long. The both of you sat forever on the tiled floor and you felt like you were the only one to blame again. It felt as though you must’ve done something because this doesn’t happen to good people. You knew you were wrong, and that Jisung would scold you and then pepper your face with kisses, but it still felt that way. “Good girl,” he cooed again as you finished, “You’ve been so good. Let’s watch T.V hmm?” He stroked your hair and watched you as you struggled to get up, laughing as you forced yourself up. Your head was still spinning, and you felt a throbbing pain ripple through your skull but you were excited.

He always fell asleep during movies.

He chose a romance movie, and all you could think about was Jisung. He loved these types of movies, always eager to watch another and would’ve probably only picked those types of movies if you hadn’t urged Jisung to pick within different genres. You watched him intently as he sat next to you, arm around your shoulder. His attention was beginning to waver, and eyelid beginning to droop. Your hands were still tied behind your back, but you knew that if you hit your back a couple more times- it would snap. You were doing well, being able to quiet down your crying, and even though your heartbeat was fast and unrelenting, you were calm and getting calmer. You were watching him, as he fell in and out of sleep, his snoring jerking himself awake. It was almost an hour until he had shut his eyes, completely dozing off but you waited until the queue played the next movie to move. You only had one chance, and you were determined to make it count. Slowly, you moved away from his embrace, eyes widening in horror as he moved. But remained asleep as you stepped away. You started running, clumsily as you snapped the zip ties off of your wrists. You rubbed your indented wrists, nearly flying down the house’s large spiral stairs as you made your way to the ground floor and out the front doors. It was his mistake not to have anyone around, his mistake to not expect you to run. You were out the doors, feeling the summer rain on your skin and being able to breathe. You ran and ran, even after you heard him calling after you. You didn’t turn back when you heard the gunshots, you could feel him gaining on you but you couldn’t stop, you wouldn’t stop. You felt his hand over your mouth, and another around your throat. He flinched as you bit him, as you thrashed in his hold. But as your vision faded, you decided that darkness never looked so dreamy.

-

Jisung was bleeding again, and from his thigh like last time. The guy was a lousy shot. Jisung still ran though, even with the pain he was feeling. But the man held the gun to your head, threatening to shoot if he heard any gunshots coming towards the car. Jisung had never felt so entirely helpless, watching him drive you away, passed out in his arms. The first thing that Jisung had done was call Minho, he couldn’t help you if he was bleeding out on the sidewalk.

                              ┕━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┙

[h4rin]

mafia!winwin part three really sorry about the wait!! i kinda haven’t had a lot of inspiration the past few months, i hope that the 2k words make up for it ^^

word count: 2212 prompt/s: anon: Could you please do a part 3 on the winwin mafia au? @africanjoon: can I have a part 3 of the Winwin mafia thing?the story Is so addicting and im shook as fuck warnings: mentions of vomit, LOTS of blood talk, violence

part one - part two - part three

After the words left Michael’s mouth, you froze. Your breathing paused, you couldn’t feel your heart beat, and nothing around you was moving. Time was no longer flowing. The world faded away as your thoughts took your mind over.

You had known what you were getting into when you got into it, of course, and despite you ending lives, you’d never thought about it happening to you. The people that you hurt were bad -- they’d killed innocent people, people with families. You hadn’t done that...had you?

No, no, you hadn’t. You were hired to kill those people. They had hurt people, even those they hadn’t killed. They deserved it. They were gone for a reason, they didn’t deserve to be remembered, to exist, whether in reality or in memory.

The realization that they could’ve had the same force pushing them to end lives hit you. You were not the only person in the world who did what you did, you weren’t the only one in Korea who did what you did. Hell, you weren’t even the only one in Seoul who did it. You’d met people, several times, who did the same thing. Even the night before, odds were, most of the people who had been surrounding you and Winwin were in the same business.

Were you that bad? Did you deserve the same fate that so many had met at your hands? Did you deserve to suffer, to be forgotten? Were you going to meet the same end that they did? Killed by someone hired by one of your previous victim’s families?

Winwin started to say your name, shaking you out of your thoughts in a panic, but halfway through, he corrected himself to Dabria. “Are you okay?” You couldn’t answer, your mouth opening slightly and closing again. You swallowed harshly as you shook your head.

“Do you want me to kill him?” Yuta wasn’t as excited as he was before, but he sounded hopeful.

You found your voice. “That’d make you just as bad as him.”

Michael sat half-silently, attempting to calm his panting through his nose. You didn’t know if it was his heartbeat that you were hearing, or if you were just feeling your own pulse rush through your eardrums.

“I’ve done worse.” You couldn’t tell if the pause made Yuta’s response scarier or not. As a matter of fact, you couldn’t tell what you were thinking - how you were going to deal with this...you were lost.

“I need to go.” You stumbled as you turned around, tugging the smooth material of Yuta’s jacket up your arm. Rubbing at your right wrist, you narrowly avoided a puddle of blood. You hadn’t noticed the stream flowing from the three men behind you to the still-growing puddle, and now, you were too nauseous to look back at them. “I need to go,” you repeated, not to anyone in particular.

The door creaked as you opened it. Yuta started to say something, but was cut off by Winwin. “Leave her alone,” he hissed, “she wasn’t trained for this.”

“She wasn’t trained at all! She has to get used to this.”

“I don’t want to do this.” You turned around without thinking, fire burning in your chest. “I’m done with this. I’m done with /all of this.” You clenched your jaw. “Dabria was dead. Michael completed his mission. She’s not coming back.” You left the room, feeling like you were about to hurl. Yuta and Winwin’s voices could still be heard from behind the door, albeit muffled. You couldn’t tell what they were saying even if you wanted to.

You leaned your back against the door, trying to catch your breath. Tears had started to fall, but you weren’t sure when, or why. No, scratch that, you knew why.

You had built this life from the ground. From lower than dirt. You had nothing, but now, you had success, and a somewhat comfortable life. You weren’t safe, no, and you didn’t have a home, but you had comfort every time you left the country. “Idiot,” you muttered to yourself. You hadn’t left the country in half a decade. When you were in Thailand, you left within three years, and you were safe. As soon as even the slightest rumour started up in England, you left. You didn’t even spend six months in Austria. But you’d let yourself get comfortable in Korea, you’d let yourself pretend you were home.You’d built up a life and a reputation. The comfort, the stupid amenities you’d collected, the friends and fame you’d procured, they were back to hurt you. They were going to end you.

Comfort kills. You’d known that for eons, it felt like, but you still insisted on being comfortable, on /living, rather than surviving. Survival was all that was meant for you. You knew that from a young age. It was your fate from the minute you were born. You survive, until you don’t. And then, like a piece of dust, you’d be gone; forgotten. It was all of your family’s history. You shouldn’t have tried to be different.

You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands in an attempt to shake yourself out of your thoughts. The mascara rubbing onto your cheeks and hands was oddly comforting, a hint of a disguise was gone. A hint of Dabria was gone. You didn’t know when the last time you’d gone out as yourself was. Dabria had taken over your life. Dabria /was your life. It hurt to think about anything before you’d come to Korea. It hurt to think about any country besides Korea.

You hurt.

But you took a deep breath, you pulled yourself off of the door, and you walked up the stairs. You knew you didn’t have a chance at navigating the mansion you’d found yourself in, so you found the front door. Despite looking like all of the night before’s regrets, the fresh sunshine on your face was like a new start. You were a new person.

You took a deep breath, took off Yuta’s jacket, and felt the sunshine on your skin. You stood there for a second. Then the second was over, you turned away from the house, and you left. The few belongings that you’d brought to the party the night before would stay there. The many belongings you had at your apartment would stay there. The friends you had made, the people you’d considered family, would be left alone. Dabria died. [Y/N] [Y/L/N] had to leave. As far as anyone needed to know, the pair were dead in unrelated incidents.

Michael had achieved his goal. Dabria was dead. Whether Yuta and Sicheng let him go was up to them, nothing that happened in that house could affect your life anymore.

The sun was your guide, slowly falling down through the clouds in the sky as you continued to walk. Your legs didn’t hurt; the freedom you felt flowing through your veins was the only sustenence you needed. The thoughts racing through your head allowed you to walk all of those miles barefoot, only a simple outfit on. Cars passed, but you didn’t notice them.

Eventually, you lost track of what city you were in.

You were completely and utterly lost, and it was /liberating.

You did have one thing you had to do as [Y/N], however. You stopped by a bank and retrieved almost a thousand dollars in cash. The clerk, a young man, probably in his early twenties, luckily didn’t seem to care at all. The rest of the money in your account would sit, and sure, there was a possibility that you’d come back and retrieve more, but the odds were low.

[Y/N] would not return.

Your journey on foot ended there. You bought a cheap pair of shoes and an inconspicuous outfit before throwing away your old clothes near the bus station, where you chose a random city to move to. The one hundred-something miles between Seoul and Sangju gave you a chance to think about what you’d do now that you’d left...whatever it was you were in before. Not the mafia...you were more of an assassin. You’d work on your own, taking missions as they came, denying some, but not all. You worked for yourself.

The journey to Sangju was over as quickly as it felt it’d become. You found a motel just far enough away from the bus station to not raise suspicion, and checked in under a fake name. You paid cash, using a fake ID you’d gotten a few months back in order to get into a certain company. “How long will you be staying with us?”

“Can I say indefinetly?” The clerk nodded, scribbling it down.

“Would you like for us to charge you by the week?”

“Please do.”

However, it had only been three days when you were pulled back into the hell you’d just escaped from.

A harsh knock sounded on the thin door of your motel room, making your heart beat faster and your eyes widen. Anxiety built up over more than a decade didn’t disappear very quickly. You slipped a knife into the pocket of your sweatpants, holding a gun as tightly as you could. You cocked it as silently as possible before even approaching the door.

However, you set it down immediately when a familiar voice uttered a familiar phrase. Despite it not being Winwin’s voice, it was the phrase he’d told you to text him the first night that you’d met. You decocked and slammed the gun down on the table, rushing to the door. You were met with sunken, dark eyes and a heavily bloodstained t-shirt that once advertised a band.

“He’s been missing for three days.” There was no other greeting offered. Based on how he looked, Yuta hadn’t slept or eaten in that time. “Please.”

“I can’t do anything. Dabria didn’t find people, she killed them. And she’s gone.”

“Sicheng didn’t trust Dabria. Dabria didn’t exist. He trusted /you. I need /your help.”

“Why should I help?”

“You shouldn’t. There’s no way around it. I wouldn’t help me if I was in your position.” He paused. “But you’re a better person than me. And this isn’t about Winwin, this isn’t about Dabria. This is about Sicheng. This is about [Y/N].” The moment of silence that followed, engulfing the two of you was deafening. “Please.”

“I can help you to the best of my ability.”

Tears freely flowed down his cheeks without warning. “I just want him to be safe.”

“He will be.” You clenched your jaw. “I need to know who we’re tracking.”

“Michael.” Yuta’s ears turned red at his confession. You sighed, looking back at him.

“You really let him go?”

“Sicheng acted like it was the last thing that you’d ever ask for. I couldn’t say no to him.”

“Daegu.” You hadn’t put any effort into thinking about where he would be. “His accent, it was Daegu. He almost died, he would want to go home. He’s an emotional person. He has the ability to make Sicheng suffer anywhere, it’s going to be his hometown.”

“Should we go?”

“It’s too late to go now. No busses are still making rounds.” The clock on your nightstand changed numbers as you spoke, flipping over to 3:37 AM. The red numbers felt like they were burning a hole in your eyes. “The next bus is at seven. I’m maybe ten minutes away from the station. We’ll get a start in a few hours. For now, you need to eat, then sleep. Just for a little bit, okay? I’ll try to get a better read on Michael’s location.”

Yuta stumbled backwards, just a step, as if suddenly realizing how hungry and tired he was. “Okay.” He didn’t seem to have the energy to argue with you. Seeing him so alone, so hurt...you realized that the facade that he’d put on before was just that, a mask covering up the cracks in his foundation.

“I have cup ramen in the cupboard. Make yourself a cup, then go ahead and use the bed. I’ll sleep on the bus.”

Again, Yuta didn’t argue. “Okay.” Every time he blinked, his eyes stayed shut for just a second longer. He made his food quickly, crawling into bed almost immediately after. In less than a minute, he was snoring, out cold.

You, on the other hand, stayed up, setting an alarm on your computer for when you needed to wake him up, another one set for when you had to leave. Within an hour, you had gotten Michael’s location down to a five-mile radius. Any closer and you could risk losing him completely. You weren’t a supergenius, you had your faults as well. By the time you had to wake Yuta up, you had a plan for catching Michael.

It wouldn’t be easy, but it would make sure Sicheng was saved by the two of you.

“Let’s go.” Yuta was ready before you, but once you were packed up, the few belongings you had collected in the past three days fitting easily into a trash bag, the two of you began your trek to the bus station, your trek to save Sicheng.

[funkymbtifiction]

yo yo yo dysfunctional entp here. i've been in a weird, non-creative, funk for the past week or so, i believe largely due to some very well ignored and internalized negative feelings. what is the best way for me (or any Ne user really) to get back into the idea-generating, novelty, creative swing? (im a writer working on a second novel so the whole 'tired of a single project' thing isnt helping either) thanks hot hot hottie

(Gif: Claudia, Warehouse 13. ENTP.)

Uh, well first there’s this: i believe largely due to some very well ignored and internalized negative feelings.

Have you dealt with those yet? Because as a Fe, until you get them out of your head and into the world, you cannot move on and the intense internalization of something that NEEDS made public (Fe) is going to cramp your muse. So, expel those feelings. Share them with someone you trust. Shout them into the void. Express them. You will feel better.

As for getting your Ne-dom mojo back – it’s simple.

Ne needs external stimulation to work. It does not exist in a void. Your Ne bounces off objects, ideas, and stories in the external world. This is why you watch a television show – you get ideas. Better ideas than they used. Or you read a book – and you get more ideas. Or you listen to a song – and you get ideas. Or you talk to someone and… you get the idea, right?

Being in a non-creative funk for a Ne-dom means your creativity tank is drained. Why? Not enough external stimulation. Not enough new stuff to bounce off of. Not enough exposure to things related and unrelated to your current writing project. You need new material going in your head. Start reading someone else’s novels. Start up a television show you’ve never seen before on the side. Read someone who is FULL OF IDEAS, who makes YOU full of ideas, someone EXCITED about their ideas.

Here’s some personal writing advice from a fellow Ne-dom, who quite often experiences temporary creative slumps (since I pretty much work on a novel and/or writing project anywhere from 1 to 8 hours daily, about 10 months out of the year… yeah, I don’t “do” hobbies and I don’t “do” idle time… and it kind of sucks).

If you hit a creative slump, you have two choices:

- Take it back to where your creativity was flowing, and take the plot in a new direction (write a different ending to that scene, or cause something unexpected to happen that you did not see coming)

- Change the setting of the scene (it’s quite possible the setting is boring you; whenever that happens, I go, “What will my reader NOT expect? Okay, the last interrogation scene took place inside a dim cell in the Tower of London. What if THIS TIME Henry VII decides to interrogate someone above the Tower’s lion pit, and dangle him over the side?”)

Here is something vital to remember, as a Ne-dom: you figure it out too far in advance, you’ll get bored with your own ideas.

Every time I have lain out an entire book from start to finish, and drawn up lists of what happens in what chapter, the creative spark dies. I have now started keeping an abstract concept in my mind (this is vaguely where it’s headed / what the climax will be, and what I should introduce next) and then leaving myself questions when I stop writing for the day, to trigger ideas for the next day.

So instead of writing: Heledd meets Alfred on the road and they discuss X, I ask, What does Heledd see that makes her suspicious? How should I introduce doubt into Meg’s mind? What should happen with the ring I introduced in the last chapter? How can I make the big reveal more dramatic?

Leave lots and lots of room for improvisation, too. When I sat down to write the other night, I knew I had to take my heroine through her fears up a road lined with her enemies – people who months before had tried to hang her. So, I knew I had to deal with PTSD trauma. What I did NOT know is that superstition would surround a myth of faerie lights to accuse her brother of murder (the murder, I had planned) and that other people would turn up in support of her, and sing an old Welsh tale to calm her down. But that was nice.

Ne’s delight in the unexpected, in allowing ideas to flourish and spring forth with just enough forewarning to lace together into the rest of the story; you must leave room in your novels for this to happen.

(Gif: Jo March, Little Women. ENFP. My soul sister.)

I’ll be honest here, in the hope it’ll inspire you. I started in on a sequel right after finishing my last book. I was excited about it, I wrote about 20 thousand words, and then I had to stop and do some line editing on the original novel. When I went back to my sequel, my creative spark had DIED. I was distraught; where had all my excitement, enthusiasm, and ideas gone?? So I put that draft in a folder, and tried another. It went on for about 15 thousand words just fine, and then it DIED. More distress. More staring at a blank page. More clueless pondering. More angst. So I delved into it from yet ANOTHER angle. I changed all the POV’s. I tied it back into London in addition to Wales. I invented an entirely new subplot. I wrote about 20 thousand words.

And it DIED. I lost the spark.

I spent one day utterly frustrated, near tears, anxious that maybe I’ll never be able to write another book (low Si paranoia :P) … and I opened up my original draft, the one with 20 thousand words, and skim read the first four chapters… and then sat down and carried the story forward. I’ve kept bits and pieces from each draft, and a lot of that writing can go in this book; but my forward momentum is back. The original idea WAS INDEED the best, or at least, the one my Ne is most passionate about – but it had to explore other options first, before it could settle down to tell THIS story.

Okay, the last bit of advice – you can take it or leave it.

Many high Ne’s benefit from working on multiple projects at once. You should consider, yes, working on your book; and writing a short story or a fan fiction on the side in a totally different genre, to keep your mind active.

I, however, have never been able to do this without losing focus – so I am a “one project at a time” kind of girl, to the extent where if I have an amazing idea for a different book or character in the middle of working on THIS one, I write it down on a slip of paper, stick it in a jar, and forbid my mind from thinking about it further, in order to remain focused.

Finally, write yourself a quick deadline. Given the amount of time you have to spend on this novel, and what else you have to do which might detract from it, and how fast you can write, figure out a rough estimate of how long it will take you to write this book. I spent two years on the last one and it literally almost killed me and drove my family insane (though, technically, since it went through about 14 drafts / rewrites / completely changed focus 4 times, and started out as a novel covering 20 years, went to a novel covering a decade, and wound up being a novel covering 6 months… I was working on more than one novel). This is NOT GOOD for a Ne-dom. We like to see PROGRESS. We like to see a point in our future when we are FREE to pursue OTHER THINGS. So, give yourself six months to write a rough draft. Or four months. Something doable, that keeps you motivated, because:

When I get done with this, I can write something else!

You are verbose. You are creative. You are ideas-driven. And if you’re a Ne-dom, you can turn out an incredible amount of words in a very short time.

You can do this.

Hope that helps,

- ENFP Mod (who tomorrow goes back to writing her sequel, because she did NOT write fiction today and was so bored she could hardly stand it)