“I want to ask you something.” Trench told her roommate. Not-Chad sat on his bed, contorted beyond human limits, his shining eyes (green and blue like stormy arctic sea, without pupils or irises) unblinking,producing sounds that should be impossible for any type of mouth (or machine) to produce. He was holding flowers and cookies Joshua from second floor brought him, so she supposed that was cooing.
Chad was gone for half year already, which was honestly all well by Trench. He never cleaned the room, and always brought his loud, annoying friends over. She had no idea why he was taken, and didn’t care. Not-Chad was clean, great help with homework and even since he moved in, Joshua, who was one of best chemistry majors on whole campus ever started helping her with her projects- she thought he would bail out once he learnt what Not-Chad was, or Not-Chad would curse him, but changeling lavished in pathetic romantic wooing and Joshua stopped wearing iron, so Trench counted herself lucky.
“I guessed so. You brought me thirteen raspberry tarts yesterday.So what zones do you want to talk about?” Again, luck had rained upon her. Trench was forbidden major, as were many biologists, but smart one. She didn’t try to figure out how fae worked-she doubted something like that was even possible with magic. Instead, she gathered information about their world and customs, by giving fae treats in exchange for stories.
Fae saw nothing wrong with that. They got presents in exchange for talking about their favorite subject-themselves. They would talk, and Trench would separate pearls from useless chatting. Not-Chad happened to be quite talkative fae (some sort of shape shifting merman, she found out) who didn’t waste words on useless information. In exchange for cakes, he would tell her about structure of his universe, The Elsewhere itself. For sake of metaphor, and because she was marine biologist and he sea fae, they called different regions of Elsewhere zones.
“About hadopelagic, demersal and benthic.” Not-Chad froze, and turned towards her, his glamour flickering so she could see his toned chest, silver skin, gills and long bioluminescent hair.
“You heard me. Spit it out..”
“What are you talking about?”
“You said that Elsewhere is like ocean. That it has just as many zones. That each zone contains stronger powers, that each one is less defined and more deadly to lesser beings. But abyssopelagic zone isn’t bottom of ocean. There are three more. So what dwells there?” Mesopelagic and bathypelagic zones contained things that didn’t bow to Courts, creatures best described as sentient archetypes and natural personifications, godlike fae who could freeze and burn and shatter the whole world. Abyssopelagic zone contained True Royalty.
She couldn’t imagine what horrible, mad things existed beyond them. But she had to know.
“No. All food in world wouldn’t be enough for such information. You could bring me everything edible in world and it wouldn’t be enough.” He wasn’t joking, Trench knew and paled. Fae considered many things edible. Cakes, infants, diamonds,dreams, radiation.
“What would be?”
“No.” He trembled as he whispered that word, too caught in imagining what he knew and wouldn’t give her. That information would bring her fame, and more importantly, save so many lives. If they knew more about fae, they could protect themselves better.
“You will tell me.” Not- Chad’s teeth became those of shark, and mist surrounded him as glow of his eyes intensified.
“YOU WILL NOT THREATEN ME, MORTAL.”
“Nor will you harm me, Innglu-Sakkan.” She spoke, and Not-Chad fell on floor upon sound of his Name.
“A birdie gave me that name for a price.” He snarled, his spit red like corals.
“ Sentry-Mary!” He spat out.
“Yes.” Trench confirmed with smile upon her face. “They gave me this sweet name in exchange for my hesitation. Such a bargain.” Fool, Not-Chad thought.Hesitation gives conscience, holds base instincts in check, brings terror and caution. It is child of fear and wisdom, and you need to lose both to lose hesitation. It saves lives. And souls.
“Now, if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I will have you kill your pretty boy toy.” Old Trench would have never demanded that. But Trench had no fear, no doubt anymore that she was right.
“His roommate is very embittered knight. Hates your people. And so gullible. But big iron mace. I will just need to sob, and order you not to properly defend yourself, and I won’t even need to order you to keep your mouth shut. You could spill all beans and she wouldn’t believe you. Your friends won’t protect you because you broke Treaty.”
Fool, he thought. Giving names of their rivals to humans was discouraged and frowned upon, but not forbidden. Sentry-mary would keep quiet, but once word got out that he was gone, they would connect dots and go to Court. Trench and Joshua’s knight would be nothing but petals on wind.
“How do I know you won’t get rid of me either way?”
“You don’t. But I have no need to dispose of you. You are far more useful as source of information. Now free.’‘
’'This information won’t come free. There are laws even power of Name cannot overrule. You need to give up something to know about Great Ones.”
“Very well. What?” She said with frown. Old Trench would have considered it.
“There is somebody I want to protect.They are my… ..” He spoke some word her ears couldn’t process. He sometimes did that, when word couldn’t be explained by any human language. “ That child is very dear to me. Promise me they will always have place withing your family, as equal as yours.” You will be gone, forgotten by world, and creature of myth and dream will take your place, and none will know.
“That is all? I accept. Now speak.” Old Trench would have understood, would have gotten meaning of words.
“There are indeed three more zones, or layers as some call them.‘He cried as he spoke. Whisper released power that rattled Trench’s bones and echoed across all fae in world. Silence deeper than that of space filled room, and all light was extinguished, and Trench could feel water pour down her throat as hundred fae rattled door and windows ( it wasn’t salt and iron that stopped them. None may interrupt until information about Royalty was given out. After…). had Trench still any hesitation left, ounce of fear and wisdom, her heart would have been filled with such dread that it would have given out (yet she could feel shadow of horror, but ignored it).
’'They too are inhabited by the Great Ones. they aren’t nobles as you know that word, or we for that matter. They are enormous, and unreal, and too powerful for your reality to contain. They play no games and fear no charm. They are predators, and like ocean, they take what they want when they want how they want. They swim and devour, and only beware of those who are bigger, stronger than they. All of us bow to them, and only time they join with each other is when they form packs to tear stronger foe to pieces.
But for sake of metaphor, think of it like this. Abyssal zone is for princes, and archdukes, and despots. Hadal is for high kings,devarajas and pharaohs. The demersal zone is for emperors, tsars and great chiefs.” His kinsmen break through, army of shadow too many of them to fit in room yet they all do.
“And benthic? What creatures dwell there?” Trench asks, uncaring of cold fingers that grasp her limbs.
“A creature, or perhaps the creature. You have your God. We have our Queen, the Queen of Queens, She Who Dreams.” He says as strong jaws bite down on his shoulders.
“What does she dream?” Trench asks, not even noticing claws that rip beneath her ribs (but she notices alien, uncaring light streaming in through window, stronger than that of Sun, and her blood knows fear again).
“Stars and oceans. Life and death. Destiny and desire. You and me.” Changeling speaks as shadows devour him.
Born from fire and ashes, you’ve learned to equip an arsenal of weaponry. Humans have come to fear you, even though you can take human form, and dragons have learned to avoid you, despite you being able to transform into a dragon whenever you please. The only kinship you’ve found in your long life has been with Smaug. It was a friendship breed from your undying love of gold. Both of you are fiercely loyal and protective of one another to a flaw. When your friendship first formed, Smaug gave you one of his fangs as a symbol of faithfulness. You kept it on a gold chain for safe keeping. After his death, it became the only thing pushing you to be stronger. Now, any who know you fear you. You’ve become the greatest symbol of loyalty, power, and greed in all of Middle Earth.
“Maybe I am a monster.”
You were created from the mind of Tony Stark. He made you almost human, but not quite. Your first and favorite friend was Vision. Once, you dared to ask Tony about your emotions, he laughed but thoroughly explained the intricacies of love. For a long time, you were ashamed to say you were in love with Vision. When you dared to admit it to yourself, you were flooded with envy. Vision seemed to have his eye set on somebody else, somebody human. For the first time in your life, you wished you were something you weren’t. You felt inadequate and wanted to change, even though change was impossible. Violent thoughts ran through your mind, but you managed to keep them down. You were a monster, so you ran and never looked back.
“Short cuts make for long delays.”
As a recently made queen, you found some things a bit difficult. Of course, Thranduil was always by your side to help you with anything, but you couldn’t quite seem to rule the way you should’ve been. In your early days of queen, you had become a recluse, and often avoided contact with anyone outside of Legolas and Thranduil. You’d spend your time in the forest, lying among the trees. It took a lot of effort, but eventually Thranduil was able to get you out of your spell and working again. You soon became the queen he knew you could always be.
“At last we will have our revenge.”
Being a Jedi was not an easy feat, and it was definitely not something you were cut out for. When you were young, your parents were slaughtered. Those responsible were never punished. During your years training to be a Jedi, you’d never let that thought go. You were given a chance to take revenge and you didn’t back down from the challenge. The power that coursed through your veins felt good, it felt right. You became addicted to that feeling, leaving the Jedi Order behind to become something much better: a Sith. When Kylo Ren came around, you were assigned to train with him. At first it was like a game of cat and mouse, but eventually you both gave into the temptations. Kylo was as addicting as raw power. Now, nothing in the galaxy is powerful enough to stop the two of you together.
“Death cannot stop me, for I am death.”
As a seemingly immortal assassin, you’ve learned to appreciate the finer things in life. Of course, all of these so called “finer things” are edible, and taste damn good. Your life is composed of food, weaponry, and the occasional hookup. So, surprise-surprise when you meet the infamous Wade Wilson and fall madly in love. Opposites may attract, but people usually love themselves more than others, so who wouldn’t want to be with somebody exactly like them? It’s a very dysfunctional relationship, but you wouldn’t want it either way. Everyone knows enough to stay out of your way, especially considering the weapons stash the two of you own. Your absolute favorite date with Wade was the time the two of you broke into a candy store and ate all of it. ALL OF IT. You’ve both got some pretty bad habits, but hey, you’re happy, who’s to judge that?
“If you desire something, just take it.”
Lucifer is the very definition of temptation. Whenever he’s near, you turn into a completely different person. He makes you feel amazing, and vice versa. It’s an undefined relationship that was built upon lust, and has definitely added a deeper emotional connection. But for now, the two of you avoid emotional situations, sticking entirely with the lustful beginning. It’s like the two of you just can’t get enough of one another. His hands will be all over your body and you’ll still want him closer. Eventually, you know you’ll have to address the whole emotional situation, but for now, the two of you are happy with a simple agreement of sex.
“I can’t bow to any man and call him master. I believe in myself.”
You were born to a world of magic and took great pride in that. You were the only person that you trusted, that you could rely on. Unfortunately, Stephen Strange was the same way when the two of you met. There was enough ego in the room to fill the world. At first, you hated one another. You were two prideful creatures with opposing views. After Stephen had momentarily defeated Mordo, you’d had a moment of respect before crawling back to your prideful ways. Once Dr. Strange was named Sorcerer Supreme, you’d finally found kinship. You were, and still are, very prideful, but you’ve found humility with him. Eventually, kinship turned to a magical romance filled with chaos and sparks. He showed you the universe, and you showed him just as much.
I wanted to make a nice post for all you lovely kin dealing with some species dysphoria.
-Try making your room, or at least an area in your room, look like your habitat!
Forest dwellers could try painting trees on their walls or making hangable paper trees, get lots of potted plants, lots of leaf decorations, forest themed stuff, etc! You could also paint your walls brown, green, or grey to make it appear like a den. I suggest brown or green sheets and blankets!
Ocean dwellers could try painting their room blue, adding ocean themed decorations and things like that. Blue, purple, brown, green, and sheets should work nicely!
For all you space dwellers i suggest painting your room a dark shade of purple or blue, and getting a space projector! Black, blue, purple, pink, orange, and grey sheets are good, and lucky for you, there’s also plenty of galaxy themed bed sets!
Cave dwellers can paint their walls grey or brown, and grey, brown, green, or black sheets should work well! You could also try sewing pillows to look like big rocks! Potted mushrooms are a nice touch!
If you can’t paint or get new sheets, you should try making a den! Basically making a pillow fort in your room and decorating it appropriately helps a lot!
Nesting is also fantastic i sleep in a blanket nest and it’s very comfy.
-Now that you have a comfortable area:
-Try doing makeup that resembles your kintype (there are loads of tutorials on youtube)
-Try wearing clothes that resemble your kintype (orange shirts and black boots for foxes, big sweaters for bears, eye masks for raccoons, etc.)
-You can try not talking, or if you’re alone, making noises your kintype makes
-Make your kintype’s favorite food! (Meat and berries is fantastic coming from a bear therian, and most animal treats are edible to humans- things like birdseed, homemade dog treats, catnip, rodent yogurt drops, etc.)
-If your kintype eats insects go for it, just make sure they’re safe- i recommend store bought
-Watching videos of your kintype helps a bunch
okay, that’s about all i can think of, hope this helps!
in no specific order .,,,,,, all the pretty horses, the edible woman, the things they carried, in the lake of the woods, the road, all the light we cannot see, gone girl, no country for old men, catcher in the rye, & the how to ruin everyrhing essays. but i feel like im forgetting books that i really liked
When Tony was a kid he’d get frustrated at having too many ideas and not enough time (and hands) to complete all the projects he thought up. Jarvis gave him a simple solution and handed him an old, and very large, empty pickle jar. He told Tony to simply write down the spare ideas, fold them up, and place them in the jar. That way if he found the time, he could pick one out and work on that next.
The system works. In Tony’s mid-20s he switches to an electronic storage system to catalogue ideas (much more helpful) and forgets about the physical jar eventually. That is, until one day when he’s cleaning up he finds the original jar.
They’re old ideas, literally and metaphorically dusty, and most likely not very good given the age he was when he wrote most of them. But he’s curious and he starts looking through them, wondering if any are useful.
Some are so outdated its laughable: “phone combined with a camera!” Genius. Well, it was at the time, Tony consoles himself.
Others depend on his state of mind at the time “bed that turns into a bed”. What? Maybe Rhodey had a point sometimes about needing more sleep…
One bit of paper he unfolds to find detailed blueprints for a submarine. This might actually be useful…
The final one reads “Pastabot!” A robot that makes pasta, he decides. I suppose I must have been hungry? Not his dumbest idea, admittedly, could be useful for
fresh pasta. He unfolds the paper to look at the schematics he’d drawn, wondering what his young mind had come up with. Oh.
"A robot made of pasta!” he’d scribbled at the bottom underneath a diagram that was labeled with tags for 15 different types of pasta with arrows to part of the robot.
If not imma be up all night trying to figure out what tf these boys are doing at this after party
Tae (talking to some random artist):
"See this watch *smirks* Gucci"
*busting out lit, sexy, amazing dance moves causing all the girls (even me just thinking about it) to drool*
*probably hanging out with the other under age stars who can't drink but are still getting lit. Not to mention causeing lots of women to stare at his breath taking visuals* lol or just hanging out with JB.
*not letting the award out of his hands and paying more attention to it than anything else*
*trying every edible thing in the buffet... and coming back for thirds*
*getting lit everyday possible. If he breaks something all the girls will probably laugh and think it's the great thing ever because he did it (lol I would)*
*searing for Camila HA* *smirk* probably getting his sexy dance on with hobi
Bangtan reaction to their girlfriend/crush struggling to fit into their ideal type
warning: little blood. just a drop.
note: __p__ is pronoun, as usual
Jin comes home to find you spread out on the kitchen floor, a huge bottle of chocolate milk by your side. He blinks at the mess that has pervaded his beautiful kitchen, then swallows and looks down at you.
“Are you alive?”
Jin sighed and let his bag drop on to the floor, then followed it himself. He settles next to you, daintily crossing his ankles, the complete opposite to the mess you were at the moment.
You wave a hand in the general direction of the 2 litre bottle of chocolate milk.
“It’s the only thing edible that’s left in the house. I’ve burnt, melted or defrosted everything else beyond edibility.”
Jin casts a deliberating glance at the bottle, then decides to pass. “_____, what happened?”
You’ve already accepted your fate and embarrassment hours ago, so the confession is ready and waiting on your tongue like the taste of the chicken you’d burnt then. “I wanted to cook something for you. Be that perfect - wife material you said was your ideal type in that interview. Turns out I can’t even be average wife - material.”
Jin purses his lips to reign his smile in. “______, you’re so cute, but i’m afraid all your efforts have been wasted. When they asked me about my perfect-type, I panicked and said something I’d heard on We Got Married.” He turns on his side and with a fond smile, traced the line of your bottom lip. “Besides, you’re my only ideal type. Your cooking doesn’t affect how much I adore you.”
You let that slowly pervade you and dislodge the despair that had swirled in your heart ever since you accepted that the creme brulle had not survived. “Maybe you won’t adore me as much when you’ve seen what I’ve done to the fridge.”
Yoongi slips his phone out and swipes for his inbox, wondering what matter could had been so fucking pressing to Namjoon that he couldn’t stop blowing his phone up while Yoongi was trying to take another one of his ten minute naps. He sighed as he caught the general gist of where this was heading.
namjoon: plis namjoon: if you ever considered me your friend then please save me from your significant other namjoon: yoongi hyung namjoon: yoongi hyung i don’t think I can take it anymore namjoon: hyunggggggg
What the fuck? His significant other? Why would you be with Namjoon?
Yoongi gripped his phone tighter in his hands and hastened to type out a reply.
yoongi: what yoongi: why is ________ with you yoongi: Namjoon wtf what’s wrong yoongi: is _____ hurt yoongi: are you hurt yoongi: are you both hurt yoongi: what did you do namjoon
Heart thudding, Yoongi bit his lip, eyes boring into the screen. Had Namjoon set fire to his apartment again? That wouldn’t be surprising, but what if you’d been there while he did set it on fire?
His phone buzzed and Yoongi jumps.
namjoon: oh thank fuck namjoon: hyung your ______ is crazy namjoon: she’s been here since morning trying to ‘learn the ways of hip hop and it’s intricacies’ namjoon: __p___ words, not mine namjoon: I thought I’d help ____ out but turns out __p__ awful namjoon: no offence but __p__ gets all the names wrong and also doesn’t get it when I explain the history of progression of hip hop over the years???? like it’s so interesting??? namjoon: _____’s a smart person I know but __p__ just doesn’t get it but you shouldn’t mind that I thought you liked ____ as __p__self what is going on please help oh god shes trying to pronounce wale again my head hurts
yoongi: namjoon, no one gets what you say when you try to explain the history of progression of hip hop over the years yoongi: wait why is _____ letting you explain the history of progression of hip hop over the years to __p__ yoongi: of course I like ____ as __p__ is what’s going on
namjoon: hyung…didn’t you want–
yoongi: WHAT DID I WANT
namjoon: YOU DIDNT KNOW ABOUT THIS? namjoon: SHIT namjoon: ______’S GOING TO KILL ME namjoon: YOUR GOING TO KILL ME namjoon: YOU’RE*
All this was too much for Yoongi’s just awoken brain. Namjoon spazzing out on the keyboard like a headless chicken also didn’t help to clear the situation up. He needed to call you.
He brought his phone to his ear, the dial tone buzzing in his ear like a panicking robot Namjoon.
On the third ring, you pick up. “Yoongi!” You sound too cheerful, a direct contrast to the (dark and gruesome) mood and setting Namjoon had convinced Yoongi’s mind to imagine.
“Hey, love. Where’s Namjoon?”
Your eyes widened, heart racing. Did he know? “Uhh…funny you should ask. He just– slipped into the bathroom shrieking about forgiveness? I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with him, but I’ll get him on the phone if something’s–”
“No, ______, he’s fine. I’m fine. Are you fine?”
You frowned. “No. Why would I be upset, Yoongi?”
“Because you think I don’t like you as you are?”
“So it’s true isn’t it? ______, I never wanted– It’s just music. Sure I appreciate a certain style of music but I couldn’t possibly force it on you. That interview was just something I thought up of before I met you. You’re not a playlist I can curate, you’re some one i love and respect very much. ______, I love you the way you are, even if you listened to The Llama Song on repeat 24/7.”
“Oh.” You bit your lip, and flicked at the notebook balanced on your knees. What can you say in reply to a profound speech like that? “…I might take your word on The Llama Song thing.”
Yoongi makes a strangled noise, part relief and part anxiety. “Please don’t. ”
Hoseok hummed in response.
Hoseok sighs and opens his eyes. “What’s up, _____?”
You wave the book you’d been reading (or atleast pretending to) at him. “What do you think about this?”
Hoseok complies and takes the book from you and scans the back, then lets it fall onto his chest, closing his eyes. “Looks good.”
You glare at him, and then pick another book from the pile you’d hazard picked from the library. “And this?”
Hoseok opens one eye to grace the heavy hardcover with a cursory glance, but doesn’t move from his position in your lap. He shuts his eyes again, and settles back again for what seems to be a nap. “Seems alright.”
You reach for another book. You weren’t the type to give up anyway. “What about–”
Hoseok grabs your wrist and looks up at you, his other arm still under his head. “What’s up with all the books and stuff?”
You sit a little miffed, a little taken aback at how quick he was to call you out on your shit. “I’m reading. I’m an intellectual, what’s wrong with that?”
“Yeah, but–” He turns your wrist to look at the title of the book you’re holding. “I didn’t think you were the type to read about ‘The Intricate History of Korea’s Waterways and The Life They Lend To It’s Economy In The Present’.” He grins up at you. “Quite a heavy topic for someone who lives on reruns of Two Days One Night.”
Hoseok sighs before you can appropriately defend yourself, and folds both his arms under his head. “Can we just watch a drama, please? No offence, but your taste in books is horrible.”
You huff and fold your arms, glaring at your boyfriend. “Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you said that people who read well were your ideal type on that radio interview. ”
Slowly, Hoseok pries his eyes open to stare at you as you realize your mistake. “All this…is because of that?” Hoseok bursts out laughing, clutching at his stomach. “_______, you’re so cute– Why on earth–”
You dig a finger into his ribs, annoyance boiling hot in your chest. “Jung Hoseok, do not laugh at–”
“Is this why you bought those fake glasses–”
Embarrassment floods you. “Hobi…”
He snorts and pulls you onto his chest, still laughing. “Oh, god, you’re so cute. And extra. But cute all the same.” He kisses you once, twice, laughing all the while, then kisses you once more, this time with more finality and fondness. You melt against him, giving in, knowing well and good that you couldn’t hold out long enough to deny yourself his kisses.
Hoseok flips you over and buries his nose in your neck, lips against your throat. “Mmm, books. Sexy.”
He deserves that slap you deliver to the back of his head.
The slight uncertainty in your voice as you called to him from the living room makes him look up from his phone, concerned.
“Could you maybe– could you please help me?”
Namjoon flings his phone to his side and jogs to the living room, stomach roiling with thoughts of you somehow hurting yourself or worse.
He’s expecting blood, maybe a concussion or even a few missing fingers. He certainly doesn’t expect you, wobbling like a drunk newborn giraffe in an earthquake, awkwardly teetering on –are those heeled Converse?– that you were most definitely not comfortable with.
“_____.”, he chokes out. “Why?”
You decide to conveniently ignore his question. “Just please help me out?”
Namjoon sucks in a breath and shuffles closer to you, afraid to disturb the sensitive balance you’ve stricken between just barely standing up and falling on your ass from nearly five inches above your usual height. “What happened?”
You wobble again, nearly frightening the soul out of both of you. “I put the shoes on and thought I had the walking part down, so I tried walking further but I ended up in the middle of the room and now I have no furniture to hold onto and I can’t take them off without bending and I don’t think I’m capable of that right now, Joon, please–”
“Hey, hey–” Namjoon slips his hands to the sides of your waist, steadying you. “I’m here.”
“Shit. Shit. I thought I was gonna die. I’m so scared Namjoon, the floor looks so far away how do you do this everyday– ”
“Shhhh. ” He slips his arms around you and you press him to yourself. At the back of your mind, you notice that you’re finally his height, but the thought seems to be bitter now that you nearly considered yourself to have shaken hands with the Grim Reaper because of the shoes you bought for the very stupid reason.
Namjoon’s hauls you a bit closer. “Jesus Christ, why?”
You thank the heavens that your boyfriend can’t see your flaming face. “Um.”
He doesn’t have an IQ of 148 for nothing. “______, no.”
You wince when you realize he’s put the pieces together. “Namjoon–”
“I’m deleting that song off your phone right now.”
You try to slip yourself out his grip by pushing yourself off his shoulders. “Namjoon–”
He doesn’t let go. “Why didn’t I even think that writing a song about how good someone looks in a certain type of shoe would ever be good idea?”
“Oh god. Do people think I have a kink for Red Converse–?”
“Namjoon!” He looks back at you, startled out of his troubled wondering. “The shoes being Converse is just an added benefit– or so I thought.” You mutter the last bit under your breath. “What I wanted to be was tall, so you don’t have to bend down everytime you kiss me and develop a neck condition by the time you’re thirty.”
“Oh.” A small furrow appears between his brows, a scolding at his lips. “____, just because I said someone tall who looks good in Converse is my ideal type– which is as pretty stupid ideal type to begin with– I mean why do ideal types exist anyway– It’s just an idea of perfection and beliefs that society itself cannot–” He stops for a breath, confusion flitting across his face. “What was I talking about again?”
You sigh and attempt to place your ear against his chest comfortably like you could do when you weren’t wearing these stupid shoes. Maybe ideal types weren’t all that they were written up to be. “I don’t know, baby. Please just get me out of these shoes before I break my ankles.”
Later, after Namjoon has carefully led you to the couch and helped you with those stupid shoes, he’s soothing his long fingers over your aching ankle while berating your decision to order in heeled Red Converse. Right in middle of muttering about his stupid decisions considering the topics of his songs, he looks up at you with earnest eyes. “_____. You know that I love you, right? However you are?”
You smile and lean down so you can kiss him. “Yeah.”
The day you’d found out that Jimin’s ideal type was cute, you’d wondered. What was cute? What made one cute? How is an ideal type just cute?
You needed answers. And of course, Google provided them.
Loads and loads of them.
Pastel mood boards. Animal ear headbands. Puppy eyes and cat paws. And most important of all, oversized clothing. Sleeves that hung long below your fingers. Shoulders that dipped off your actual shoulders, and the ultimate cute factor, hoodies.
So that’s what you did. Word for word, rule for rule, cute.
It was fine in the winter months, really, comfy and understandable. You lived in hoodies you stole from his closet, you thrived in them. Jimin had noticed, even commented upon it once (complained, maybe, but details details). Cute was a lifestyle for you now. the mantra you repeated day in and day out. Slowly, you grew not to mind the limited practicality of oversized sleeves, because they kept you warm, and more importantly, ideally cute.
Then came the summer months.
But no, you don’t give up. You’re not ____, for no reason, are you? Hence, you suffer the warming spring and cross the threshold of summer in too warm hoodies and long-sleeved sweatshirts. Sure, you felt like you walked around in a personal invisible sauna, but you looked cute, and Jimin liked cute.
It was on one of such summer days, you lay on the floor of the boys’ dorm, frantically trying to absorb any coldness the floor would offer through your thin wool sweatshirt. It is at that moment your boyfriend walks in, Jeon Jungkook in tow, and judges your state with a hint of concern.
“_____? Are you alright? You look a bit…overheated?”
You smile at him and shrug in faked nonchalance. “Just a little hot.”
“Oh. But the A/C’s turned up to the maximum, so–” Jimin shakes his head at himself. “Just take off the sweatshirt, _____, you’ll feel better.”
You shake your head. I am _____, I am strong. I will not succumb to a silly heatwave. “No, that’s alri-”
“Oh no, hyung.” Jungkook flashes a grin that wouldn’t look out of place on the devil’s face at you. “______ knows you like cute sweatshirts too much, she’s not taking it off.”
You consider murder for the first time in your life.
“Jeon Ju–” You screech at him to get back in here, but he swirls away with a laugh that, coincidentally, wouldn’t be out of place in the devil’s lair. With that, the maknae leaves you, in a sweatshirt, that by now has started sticking to your skin, and Jimin, in a situation he clearly doesn’t know how to handle.
“_____. Is it true?” Jimin sucks in a breath of disbelief. “_____. Are you wearing a wool sweatshirt in the middle of summer to look cute for me?”
You chuckle nervously, a little afraid for your cute self. “Who else? That litte shit, Jungkook?”
Jimin fixes you with a glare. “_____.”
You sigh. “I know.”
“You know, I love you however you are, whether you’re wearing a sweatshirt or a ripped jeans or even nothing.”
“Of course.”, comes a voice from the hallway, sounding uncannily like the devil himself. “I’m sure hyung would love that.”
“I’m home, ______!”
Heart thundering, you look up from the piece of thread you’ve been trying to get through the needle for the past fifteen minutes at the door. Tae has just come home from a day of practice, and he will be soon in the living room where you sit, demanding cuddles.
You need to act quick, before Tae figures out why you’ve spent the past few weeks with nearly a hundred messily applied bandages decorating your fingers like Christmas baubles. (Also why you wore your sleeves long and over your fingers even though it was turning warm, but Tae found it cute, so it was more like a decided plus along with your original intention.)
“______?” Oh god. He sounds close. What do I do?
Of course, you weren’t known for taking the best of decisions and the sudden time constraint also didn’t help. So of course, you shove every coloured piece of string you see and the needle you were holding into the little box they belong in at your side in a desperate attempt to hide from your boyfriend the fact that you’ve been trying (and miserably failing) to learn how to sew.
But of course, the needle has to prick you.
You yelp and jump up clutching your finger to your chest. “Shit!”
Tae, whose attention has been brought to your distress by way of your very eloquent exclamation of pain, jogs to your side, eyes widening at the welling blood on your finger. “Wha–? Oh, shit.”, he agrees.
You whimper as he pulls your finger closer to him, frantically looking around for a tissue. The small needle prick is nothing to cry over, but the utter defeat that takes over you at the realization that you would never be good at sewing, or baking, or anything exceptionally homely or marriable-like, and certainly nothing you could impress a future in-law with sets your tears flowing. That had been the point of the whole exercise (or torture, take your pick) of course. To be a good partner for Tae, one who knows how to take care of his parent’s son, someone marriage-y.
The corners of Tae’s mouth goes down when he mistakes the tears in your eyes to be ones of pain. “It’s okay, ______.” He murmurs, stroking you back soothingly. “Nothing that a bandage can’t fix.” He frowns. “I wonder where they are though.”
“They’re in that box with the blue lid.” The response is almost triggered out of you. You and that box of bandages have become quite acquainted over the course of the past few weeks.
He hums in admittance and bends to pick up the mentioned…the very box you kept your (dismal and abused) sewing supplies in.
“____?” You watch in horror as he puts the pieces together. “Is this how you injured your finger?” He gingerly picks up a mass of tangled threads off of which hang few needles you had abandoned when you’d clearly lost hope with them.
You blush fiercely, giving Tae the answer he needs. He sighs in incredulity and places it back on the coffee table, and gingerly picks a bandage to add to the growing collection on your fingers. “Why?”
“I wanted to learn. To, like, sew your buttons on, and be wifely and stuff.”
Tae grabs your hand and stares at the older bandages you’ve managed to hide from him till now. “How much blood did you lose in this quest of yours?”
“Not enough to make me stop apparently.”
He shakes his head as he sticks it onto the pad of your finger. “Why were you trying so hard? I love you, wifely or not.”
You swallow as the realization comes crashing back all over again. “I– wanted to be someone you could take home to your parents, someone who they would approve of. ” You swallow as Tae looks up at you, startled. “Like you said in that interview.”
Tae’s lips part in uncertainty, disapproval already on his tongue. “______, no.” He finishes up with the bandages and shuffles closer to you on the couch, placing a perfect kiss on your forehead. “You don’t need to learn to sew to impress my parents. You make me happy, which is enough to make them name you as officially part of the Kim household.” He tucks some stray hair behind your ear, then kisses your bandaged finger. “Especially not when it might kill you from blood loss.”
You fling your phone to your side and consider deleting Twitter off your phone, because God so help you if you see another tweet gushing volumes about how shy and sweet your boyfriend looked when IU graces him with a look or a whiff of her perfume, and how good they look together, and good their children will look, and–
Your fists clench and you groan, throwing an arm over your eyes, like that will block out the mental image of a badly done edit of the two of them that had, of course, popped up on your timeline and tortured you.
You didn’t know what was worse, that edit or the compilation videos of ‘Sweet moments that will most definitely make you ship IU and her ultimate fanboy’ that rampaged across your feed.
Those videos did not most definitely make you ship IU and her ultimate fanboy, née your boyfriend.
Really, all this could have been avoided if you just hadn’t clicked on that first video, which soon lead to more videos, which soon ended up in a constant loop of first Jungkook bashfully admitting that IU was his ideal type on that one show and then immediately cutting to the circus that was this year’s MAMAs.
A desolate laugh that had no real mirth in it bubbles up from the back of your throat. As much as you appreciated the phenomenal performances (and the body rolls) that would not have existed if not for MAMAS, and as much as you loved the fact that the hard work your boyfriend and his bandmates put in was getting recognized, this little IU thing managed to worm through all the happy thoughts and wreck your (questionable) sanity.
Of course, it’snot his fault. He has an image to keep, and there’s nothing wrong with having a crush. The best of us do. I mean, look at you. You have a monumental crush on Jeon Jungkook. And he’s your boyfriend already, so what’s up with that?
And so on and on, your fairly sensible mind tries to reason with your heart. In fact, you dive so deep in your anxious musings, you do not notice the very culprit stirring out of his unknowing sleep next to you.
Jungkook blinks the sleep out of his eyes and pulls you closer by the heavy arm he has hooked around your waist. “_______?” His voice is croaky with sleep, muffled against your shoulder. “Why are up so late?”
Jungkook snorts and lets his eyes close again. He won’t pass up the opportunity to tease you, even if he was just drooling on your shoulder a few minutes ago. “No– ______, staying up instead of sleeping like the dead the moment __p__ gets a chance? Not possible.”
You sigh and don’t reply. You shouldn’t let some fangirls wishful thinking affect you this much, but it does, and it doesn’t take much for Jungkook to notice that you aren’t replying with your usual snarky comments.
“Hey, _____. What’s wrong?”
You try to edge your phone under your ass, out of Jungkook’s vision. He might act like an idiot, but he was awfully sharp when he wanted to be. “Nothi–”
Jungkook’s hand snapped out and curled around your phone. Probably all those dancer reflexes. You try to get it back, but just one forearm against your shoulder is enough to block you and let Jungkook comfortably switch on your phone and see what’s been on your mind ever since you saw it.
Jungkook breathes out as he sees a younger him splutter about IU at different places and at different interviews and then a not so younger him splutter again whenever IU so much as moved during the MAMAs.
You watch with bated breath as he momentarily forgets about his original purpose in snatching your phone in midst of bemoaning his on embarrassing fanboying. "Why do I look so whipped? I’m a twenty year old man, why I do look like a ten year old boy just finding out about crushes?“
You let your arm drop back across your face, resigning yourself to having lost Jungkook somewhere along the way. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
A moment of silence ensues while Jungkook puts the pieces together. “______.” He shuffles closer to you and pushes his head under your arm to get a better view of his face. “I didn’t mean to– I’m so sorry–”
“Yeah, I know, I know, I’m just being unreasonable. Don’t worry about–”
“No, you’re not being unreasonable, I didn’t even realize I–”
“Jungkook. I love you. I know it’s just your inner fanboy revealing himself. I’m alright. Or at least, I’ll be alright. Maybe I should get her haircut. And a few singing lessons, though I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sing like her, I mean–”
“Relax. I’m just kidding with you. It’s too much work, anyway.”
“______, she’s just a teenage crush.”
You let a smile pull at your lips as his petulant voice whines in your ear. “Which you’ve somehow managed to carry over to your questionable adulthood.”
Jungkook takes in a deep breath and pushes your forearm off your face, hovering over you so he can make sure you see the sincerity in his face. “I know I’ve said that IU is my ideal type a few times–”
“More than a few times but who’s counting?”
“But–” Jungkook raises his voice to be heard over your misery. “You’re my ideal-est type. Ever. I’d pick you over everything. Even Overwatch. I love your hair–” He drops a kiss on the same. “Your eyebrows.” Another one. “Your pretty eyes.” Again, one on each eyelid. “Your nose.” He pecks the reddening tip of the mentioned. “This pimple on the side of your–”
“Don’t kiss that.”
He complies and settles for your mouth, a warm press against your lips that appeases you of your now trivial seeming anxieties.
When he deems you appropriately comforted, he nips at your bottom lip before leaning back. “I love you, _____. I mean, IU’s great, but I love love you.”
You swallow and close your eyes, revelling in the warmth of his body against yours. Maybe IU was his ideal type, but as he so eloquently said: He love loved you. And you love loved him right back. Types and their idealness stood no chance against nonsensical made up words that perfectly described how much Jungkook adored you.
yay! unedited, because i have a test tomorrow. let me know if there are any typos? i’ll correct them after i’ve failed that test.
the reason this took so long is because jimin and hobi dont have an ideal type? the beginning of jimin’s reaction is actually me.
also: lol, jungkook, you little shit. i’m never forgiving him for that stunt he pulled at the MAMAs.
Yes I do anon. Yes I do. In fact, I wrote a great response to you with links and pictures and descriptions and funny commentary. But then my computer was an ass hole and I lost it all. Now I’m bitter, but I still want to share these awesome yuri games with you. So I’m gonna keep it shorter on my blurbs and trust that you can google stuff on your own and hopefully my response won’t get deleted this time. Also, I’ll be including dating sims/otome games in this list too, just to give you some variety.
1. Sono Hanabira Ni Kuchizuke Wo (A Kiss for the Petals)
The epitome of the yuri visual novel game franchise. Very cute, very NSFW and great voice acting. There are currently 13 games in the original series, plus drama cds, mini novels, an OVA, two spinoff series, a separate game available on Steam and so much more. I have played games 1-8 and loved every second of them, though my fave couples are Kaede/Sara and Eris/Shizuku. The 11th game in the series is the longest, with a main route for Risa and Miya and then spinoff routes for all the other couples. All the other games are focused on one couple. Since there is so much content in this franchise it’s hard for me to put everything you may want to know in one concise blurb so please feel free to send me questions or ask for links to things!
2. Kindred Spirits on the Roof
As much as I have been dying to play this game, I still haven’t had the chance yet. Seriously, I have wanted to play this game since the PV was first released. Now that it’s finally licensed, translated and available on Steam I can play it but only once I get the money *cries gay tears* The story for this is super cute but has quite a few NSFW elements. A high school girl helps two ghosts on her school’s roof play matchmaker with other girls in the school so they can create a yuritopia and fulfill their dying wish of consummating their love. I’ve heard amazing things about this game and I can’t wait to play it.
This game is more of a dating sim than a visual novel but it’s really fun. And hilarious. And NSFW. It’s available on Steam and is fully voice acted. You can play as either a male or female who, with the help of a love fairy named Kyu, tries to have sex with all the women in town. And since there are only 8 women in town, your goals are totally achievable. There’s pretty decent diversity in this game, and by that I mean there are 4 WOC and they all have different personalities. There are also 4 unlockable characters that are super fun to play too. Keep in mind though that this game was written with male players in mind so some of the writing is a bit…weird or offensive. But all in all, I think this game is definitely worth the money, especially if you buy it now during Steam’s summer sale.
4. Astoria: Fate’s Kiss
Do you want to be able to date fictional people on your phone?!?! Yes? Me too! Do you want both a female AND a nonbinary option? YES? Me too! Do you want the story to be filled with action and magic powers and Greek Mythology??? YES TO ALL?!?! Then this is the game for you! It’s a decent mix between a dating sim and a visual novel, with two ending routes available for each story. The female option is Medusa, a kind and gentle woman who used to be a mob boss and the nonbinary option is Alex Cyprin, your very cute and charming boss. I’m actually behind on Medusa’s route because life and money *cries more gay tears* but what I have played is 10/10. AND you eventually get to get married!!!!! There are a few NSFW moments but a majority of the game is SFW. The writers put so much heart into these characters and the art is great and it’s definitely worth the money for all the content you get. It’s easily found in the app store! Highly recommend it.
5. Gangsters in Love
This is a game by the same people who make Astoria and it is just… the best. Trust me. The plot is: you’re kidnapped by some gangsters who claim your parents are up to some bad shit. You then choose a gangster to look after you while you are under their protection.
There’s only one female option but she is worth every penny.
Aurora James is the sexy, super gay hustler for the Valentine Gang and she won’t let you forget it. I swear, reading some of her dialogue has almost killed me it’s that gay. Like Astoria, this game is full of action and hilarity, just minus the Greek Myths. Again, the writers are awesome, the art is awesome and it is totally worth the money.
6. Sugar’s Delight
I won’t sugar coat it (ha!), this game is purely smut. But it’s a visual novel and I’ve played it so I figured I should put it on the list. In this game you’re a girl who dreams of owning a cafe and you get a job at Sugar’s Delight to learn the ropes. The cafe owner slowly but surely starts putting the moves on you. It’s not a terrible game but it’s not amazing either. I mean the art is cute and it’s fluffy and harmless. My biggest problem with it is…how to say this…um…they put a lot of edible things where edible things shouldn’t go. And I get it. It can be totally sexy to eat an entire slice of cake out of another woman’s vagina. But the whole time it’s happening in the story I’m just cringing in fear of how much that’s gonna suck for the girl who had the pastry in her pussy. I can’t really focus on how hot it is when I’m feeling second hand yeast infection anxiety. But other than that, it’s pretty cute.
7. A Little Lily Princess
I haven’t played this but oh my gosh do I want to. It’s a pretty new release on Steam so I haven’t been able to read much about it from other player’s perspectives either. It looks so adorable and sweet, plus the art is very similar to the art of Akiko Morishima, one of the yuri mangaka godessess. The game play looks multifaceted and fun with a nice ojou-sama type feel that I can always get behind. I’ll totally try to write a review when I finally play it!
8. Pacthesis Dating Sims
Okay, so this is a flashback into the depths of my teenage years. Like “these games helped me come to terms with my homosexuality” kind of depths. I at least wanted to mention the creator. Pacthesis is an artist on deviantart who made these dating sims that I used to play when I was younger; you were a girl and you had a few male options. Then low and behold, one day she adds a female character option to a game and I’m like “Yes???? Yes.YES!” And then my whole life got very gay from there. These games are cute and easy to play and SFW. I think only three of Pacthesis’s games have female options (Chrono Days, Lunar Days and Number Days) but they’re super creative and have a special place in my heart. Check them out if you can.
I think that’s about it. I mean, there are a few other games I’ve heard of here and there that have yuri/ wlw couples but none that I’ve played or can name off the top of my head right now. I hope that my followers take the time to check out some of these games. They’re all worth the time and money, in my opinion!
If there are any yuri type games I didn’t mention here that people think I should play, I would love recs! Also, if anyone has an questions or wants a more in depth review of a certain game, like one of the Sono Hana’s, I’d be happy to oblige. I can also help find you links if you need :) Just shoot me an ask! May the yuri be with you!
(I actually wrote a whole article
to answer this, anon! It nearly reached six pages on Word, but I had to cut it
down. And I think I took advantage of this Ask to make an analysis. Do forgive
me. I love this game so much.)
Let’s establish, OFF takes place
in a world that is very unnatural and dystopia-like, specters plague the land,
occupants breathe smoke, water is made out of liquid plastic and solid plastic
makes out other objects, and meat is the
only thing edible. Nameless inhabitants with the same dress code live their
life in fear of the ghosts, and under the tyranny of the Zones’ ruthless and corrupted
Guardians, withstanding a never-ending life of work.
You, the Player, control the
Batter, an emotionless holy man who seeks to purify the world.
In general: OFF is about a father
ridding all hopes, dreams and affection for his terminally ill son. We play as
his persona, but we are in the view of his child.
It protects the books, but it can’t read them. Maybe we’re all protecting something, but we just don’t know what… or maybe we’re ruining it. - Elsen, Zone 2
Hugo is sick. It is hinted in the
events of the Room when he mentions being told by his papa, and his sound clip
being a cough. He had to take pills, and he wasn’t allowed to go outside. He looks
like a baby, but he probably didn’t grow up well, he also has no trace of hair
on his head or eyebrow.
Each time you enter the Room, the
surroundings change. First, a smiley face made out of chairs is present; next a
frown with tears, a bunch of computers with floors that hurts, people going to
and fro, but you can’t touch them. And then the room itself turned into a
prison cell. This is a manifestation of Hugo’s feelings towards his dwelling
place, dark, isolated, frightening, and lonely.
Sundays were probably special to
him in a way, considering most of the calendars noted “Sunday” and the Batter
keeps some Days with himself too as well.
There are six personalities
This game delves into psychology and
many symbolisms, which involves the characters themselves. If you would notice,
most characters in the game are male except the Queen and Sucre. This supports
the idea that all the male characters are manifestations of the father’s
different personalities.(I’m referencing the inspirations of this game being, Silent
Hill 2, where every character faces manifestations of their fears, an ill Mary;
Brazil, with Jill and Sam; The Wizard of Oz; Killer7 etc.)
The Batter is dressed in a
baseball uniform, manifesting how Hugo viewed his father as an enemy like the antagonist,
Ballman, in his comic book. He is a Puppet, representing the Decision, being
stripped off of all emotions and empathy so that he can fulfill his goal to
purify. What does purifying mean? To hide. And what are the specters? The truth.
The truth that Hugo is dying. This is to achieve peace. Most parents wish to
help their child continue living life as comfortable as possible despite their incurable
illness. Talking to a kid about death is the most difficult thing to do.
Valerie and the Judge are the father’s subconscious mind, the Judge being the
wise conscience, and Valerie being judgment.
However, the father realized that
the truth was undeniable. The specters were too many and the only way for them
to come to an end was to finally turn the switch off, which belongs to the life
support of his vegetable/comatose son.
Dedan is a tall, foul mouthed, and
ill-tempered man. He is the guardian of Zone 1 which supports all the other
Zones with its production of the elements that is vital for their world to
continue living. He works endlessly to supply the needs and is loyal to the
Queen. Dedan represents the father as the provider, who works hard to support his
family, and protect them. He has regards for time as hinted in the Room:
Chapter 4 and his competencies. Overworking probably took the best of him. And
thus the Batter finishes him.
Japhet is a firebird that
manifests the father’s other role who gives the pleasures and a future to his family.
At some point, Hugo and his mother became engrossed with all the troubles that
they forgot about what the father gave them, ‘peace’, ‘security’,
'entertainment’, that being the abandoned Mall, Library, and Amusement Park. In
the Room: Chapter 4, he was a small humble bird, but then grew into one of
those god-looking mythological creatures full of pride. His taking over Valerie
is a symbol of being held by back his judgment, only to tear it to shreds and to
allow his arrogance to get the best of him, lashing out at his people to hurt
them. He knew of what he became and is guilty of it. Thus following after
But that was me! It was I who made it all like that for you! Are you all so blinded by your pathetic fear of living? - Japhet
Enoch represents the father’s
hard attempts to feed his family sugar-coated lies, telling them that
everything will be okay, denying the truth of Hugo’s illness, even to the point
of chasing the Batter down and breaking through pipes just to stop him from
telling the truth.
Zacharie manifests the father’s
passive attitude. Careless, and being preoccupied with messing you around, he’s
a deceiver. A man who wears a mask and has a heart stuck to his shirt. Sugar is
another representation of Hugo’s mother. And she’s nothing but boss hidden deep
in Zone 0, obsessing over the lies. The two are manifestations of the father
and mother’s relationship. Despite having killed Sugar, Zacharie just simply
remarks, “It’s better that way.”
The Queen represents the mother. Beautiful,
loving, powerful, and the light of Hugo’s world. She’s the Batter’s parallel,
having add-ons of her own, and being much grander as compared to his simple
design. The battle against her is an important one, as we get hints on what
happened. If you would notice, it seemed similar to a couple fighting, referenced
by their dialogue, and the soundtracks played during the chapter, “Woman of
your Dreams” and “The Meaning of His Tears”. Each word she said hurt him. Not
only was she berating him, she was also fighting to keep the lies but lost.
The Batter’s confrontation with Hugo
Each blow of his bat symbolized
the father finally telling Hugo of his situation, however, still giving him the
assurance that “There will be no more darkness”.
Unfortunately, all these events
have already happened, and Hugo was just having flashbacks of his life. And we,
the Player, spectated. We were only allowed to actually intervene when we were
given a choice, to side with the Batter, or the Judge.
The final clash with the Judge represents the
father and his conscience. This very moment was beyond Hugo’s reach, and is no
longer a memory, but was actually taking place in the present. The father had
to make a final decision, and you were in his shoes. Pull the switch and the
father ends Hugo’s life, as well as his. Choose either way and it’s nothing but
regrets, and a life of loneliness.
OFF did a good job in using
symbolism in its narrative. It actually nearly covered most topics. Examples are
bureaucracy, environmental problems, sickness, family, and imagination but
still not resulting in clichés. It’s bizarre, comedic, yet dark. Simple but
still complex. This game never ceases to fascinate me, truly the best horror
But remember, it’s just a theory!
Nothing is right or wrong, it’s all up to you. Thanks for reading.
I noticed this
was pointed out already in @krazehcakes’ post, but I thought the exact same way
before even reading theories online. Screenshots are property of Panzer’s text