ℳᵃⁿ ₂ ℳᵃⁿ

⌖ 　 ⸻　　𝚊𝚛𝚎　　𝘆͟𝗼͟𝘂 𝐌𝐀𝐍　　𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯　　[⸮]

[388s]

Visit Original Link

`　⌖　░　SOMETHING TO DO WITH SIN,　OR THE HONOR OF MEN,　WHICH USUALLY MEANS IT'S ABOUT VIOLENCE.　*　Kang Dae-ho of Squid Game, removed from canon.　Friend focused  &.  plot oriented.　CROSSOVER FRIENDLY.　Vivisecting themes of:　toxic masculinity,　militarization,　intergenerational trauma,　heterosexism and heteronormativity,　patriarchal systems,　gender role conflict,　&.　institutional violence.

SUBJECT MATTER:　hypermasculinity,　violence and gore,　alcoholism,　child abuse,　homophobia,　weaponry and militarization,　c-ptsd.　Viewer discretion advised,　mature audiences only.　Interaction guide.

𝕭rothers in 𝐀rms　...　chishiye ♡,　124player,　2keis,　abseance,　etonnante,　hatt1tude,　heartrites,　hij4u,　hyenide,　luvpoem,　mylure,　nonpareil,　oddsfavorcd,　plyr124,　self-1ess,　solrites,　unbrave,　unpreys.

[ ⁰¹ ]　Guidelines.　[ ⁰² ]　Statistics.　[ ⁰³ ]　History. [ ⁰⁴ ]　Verses.　[ ⁰⁵ ]　Connections.　[ ⁰⁶ ]　Prompts. [ ⁰⁷ ]　Aesblog.　[ ⁰⁸ ]　USFW.　

[388s]

Hello and good afternoon! Gonna be remaking, I’m going to be a bit more private with who I give my energy to but I will be continuing all my ongoing threads. If you’re genuinely interested in building with me, feel free to like and I’ll (probably) follow on the new blog once it’s set up. No intentions to reset dynamics or anything and I’ll be bringing over a lot of the ask memes I’ve received too — this is just for my peace of mind. ♡

[388s]

Hello and good afternoon! Gonna be remaking, I’m going to be a bit more private with who I give my energy to but I will be continuing all my ongoing threads. If you’re genuinely interested in building with me, feel free to like and I’ll (probably) follow on the new blog once it’s set up. No intentions to reset dynamics or anything and I’ll be bringing over a lot of the ask memes I’ve received too — this is just for my peace of mind. ♡

[388s]

♡

[388s]

Let it be known, Dae-ho is fucking fantastic with kids. And teenagers. And parenting is a nightmare because he doesn’t want to be anything like his Father.

[f4mily]

dae-ho ( @388s ) said to frank : this will not define you, okay?

the scoff is out of my mouth before i can think any better of it. brows raise high up my forehead in skepticism. right, the fact that i stole meds from the department i worked at and got high on the job, berated my colleague on her first day of work, dropped off the face of the earth to go to rehab won't define me. alright. "yeah, not so sure about that, man." this week has been hell and honestly, that's putting it lightly. it's like i've been walking on eggshells, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. not a single person here trusts me anymore.

( but that's my fault, isn't it? )

"look, i appreciate what you're trying to do here." i reach up my hand to scrub across my face, dropping it down to slap against my leg with a sigh. dae-ho is just trying to help, make sure my adjustment back to work is as smooth as possible. quite the impossible, daunting task. "but it does, and it will. probably until i'm done with my residency. it's fine. i've just ... gotta finish this year and get the fuck out of here."

[388s]

He can’t let it impact his work.　Plain and fucking simple.　Especially after the gargantuan task of pressing Trinity until she disclosed;　it’s patience,　he’s patient,　a good friend to girl he finds echoes of in every reflective surface.　He wants to stand by her,　logically,　but there are gaps in his knowledge to be filled by Frank’s sudden resurgence.　(It’s hard,　really.　A hole cut in the back of his skull,　objecting to every rational decision　⸻　bristling at the thought of him,　a punishment from his own perception.　You cannot truly be predisposed in disliking someone,　right?　It is not fair,　not just.　And everyone knows the world is great about justice.)

His own palms,　etched with intricate linework,　smooth down against the pristine cotton of a new pullover:　soft grey gradient cascading down the bodice,　woven by machinery and not yet bearing the affliction of his inexperience.　Time,　beautiful salve,　should cure all.　Dae-ho’s still holding out on that one.　❛❛　You　—　you know how the gossip train is.　Always looking for the next thing to latch onto.　❜❜　And maybe it’s justified.　Maybe it is.　Maybe Frank deserves more than the flak that rumbles steady in emergency’s underbelly,　how people leer a little too long before sheepishly averting their eyes.　Like he’s radiating hurt onto everything.

Perhaps not a fair judgment to pass.　He swallows,　breathes in steady breath as if to regulate softened tone.　Merciful man that he is,　he’ll overlook it all.　The scoff,　the incredulity,　the sensation searing in his stomach that he could deliver cold stare in return and be done with it.　❛❛　You’re a damn good doctor.　I’ve heard that.　I know you know that.　Just gotta put that back in everyone’s minds.　❜❜　The justice,　naturally,　is not his to pursue.　Frank has surely gone through the motions to sate department’s over-inflated head,　and so he sees no value in fighting for a cut of his own self-fulfillment.　Even if Trinity thinks otherwise.

[cheerlcd]

“are you sure?” worry floods her body. maybe she's done something wrong, said the wrong thing or upset him somehow. she doesn't want him to walk on eggshells around her — she knows what it's like, to have to walk on eggshells around someone you love, and she wouldn't wish it on anyone. she loves her mother, but she's exhausting, sometimes. most of the time.

she gnaws at her lip — not hard enough to draw blood, but enough that it sends a spike of pain through her lip. she likes the pain, lets it steady her. after all, a gymnast who couldn't push through pain wouldn't be a gymnast at all — gymnastics meant pushing through cracked hands and broken blisters, sore muscles and strange pains.

“i promise i'll tell you if anything's bothering me,” she says, smiling at him. “but could you promise me the same thing? i don't want you to suffer in silence if i can help.”

[388s]

He knows he must be a good boyfriend without knowing the fullest scope:　he must tend to Chrissy’s needs,　Chrissy’s whims,　and Chrissy’s apparent need to return the favor.　A plead against his silent suffering　⸻　to what end?　To what fucking end?　She should know the culture by now,　darling little flower she is　(daffodil or a marigold or something,　he hasn’t invested nor wasted the time in comprehending their names,　cultural associations;　Dae-ho knows they are ornamental and pretty and exist more so to convey a purpose once their stems have been severed for ownership)　and how men can accomplish nothing should they be incapable of bottling it up.　Let alone the rigid masculinity that his field demands.　Take the hits,　Dae-ho.　Strike them back twice as hard.　Never groan,　never whine,　and never succumb to your aching muscles begging for a break you cannot afford to provide.

But he’s been slipping,　again.　A search history on his phone he couldn’t be bothered to erase,　or maybe it slipped his mind among the unrelenting threshold of MMA.　Give an interview,　flap lips just enough about life’s intimate details to sate the intrusive crowd.　Everything is fine.　He likes Chrissy.　Loves Chrissy,　loves her.　It’s fine.　Superstar couple.　How fucking joyous.　Chrissy represents everything he’s fought so hard to build,　and he needn’t jeopardize it for his own selfishness.

❛❛　Done deal,　❜❜　he palliates,　vacant gaze shot at white-plastered walls.　The popcorn texture looks like shit,　cheaply done to cut corners.　He hates it,　he’s decided.　This is his life now,　pondering how the finish on the walls can come to impact the wallpaper or vice-versa or whatever the hell.　Never a stand-in for a greater problem,　no.　❛❛　It’s nothing that needs crazy solving anyways.　My dad’s…　fuckin’ hell,　I know he just wants me to succeed,　but…　❜❜　But he’s never been happier than seeing his son live a lie.　His son,　his only son,　is violent and stoic and cruel.　His son looks just like him in the mirror,　mean as a god.　His son is his.　❛❛　I don’t think he’ll ever get it.　❜❜

[388s]

Hellooooo and good afternoon. I'm due to update my pinned again since everyone's changed their urls eek 🫡🫡 Being forced to bear witness to S3 discourse again where people still want to believe Dae-ho was mischaracterized in it as if it wasn't the best possible thing for his character. Omfg. Anyways maybe I will get some things queued... we shall see :]

[pinkman-arc]

in their line of work, a bonding ritual without a black eye is like a party without booze. without the telltale crinkle of plastic. jesse knows better than to buy into this shit. he’s been trying to figure out what makes the other dude tick, what might incite a torrential flood of insults, but dae-ho is seemingly content with sticking to standard protocol. (whatever happened to jesse, you’re a junkie? jesse, you’re a lost cause? jesse, were you dropped on your head as a baby?) the last one was a lousy shot even by mister white’s standards. jesse recalls the rare flash of remorse flitting across his face, the droop of his jowls, the beginning of a motivational speech—  something so paternal, something so benign—

maybe dae-ho is playing a wholly different game. or maybe jesse isn’t worth the hassle. “why you asking?” he hunkers down beside him with a lazy grin. stops short of rolling up his jeans and untying his laces. can’t risk coming across as some kinda snot-nosed sidekick, jonesing for a crumb of attention. “what, you wanna cool off ‘n splash around?”

there’s no venom behind it. only the usual reckless impudence, the boyish bravado he should’ve outgrown ages ago. jesse shifts, propping his chin against his knee, lowering an inexhaustibly curious hand into the water. retracting it once the chill creeps up the narrow jut of his wrist. “no way. it stinks, yo. and it’s not, like, a normal pool smell. ‘s like…” he sniffs, a bloodhound on the prowl, and imitates a gagging sound. “eugh. like whoever was here before us mighta pissed in it.”

[388s]

Micro-shift in his brows delineates a something;　nameless,　shapeless,　impelled only by the rigid structure’s wrinkling,　horizontal lines embedded at his nose’s bridge.　The act is juvenile,　perhaps　⸻　he is prepubescent the last time swimming is an act to find joy in and not another tick in the ledger of Father’s most brutal hopes　⸻　but he doesn’t anticipate the pushback.　It might even piss him off,　should the downturn of chapped lips offer any substance.　Not really,　no.　There is little to smile about and even littler that he finds worth it　/　you are a man,　son,　and you do not weep nor scream nor wax poetic.　

❛❛　Dumbass.　❜❜　Unimaginable.　Like they’re two dipshit progenies at a summer birthday party,　indulging in foul stench of over-chlorination after a long afternoon of decadent chocolate cake and tearing through the dinosaur-patterned paper embellishing the latest and greatest gifts.　This is no such celebration,　no.　Respite more than anything else,　hours after his blade-sharp stare has torn through soft tissue of his mind.　An ache,　throbbing,　exacerbated by the water too artificial in its coloration for comfort.　Action carries out in hurried motion,　its playback doubled in post-production of doubt and insecurity:　hand dips down into the pool,　with all the precision of robot off the assembly line,　and he scoops up just enough of the water to splash at Jesse.

Outlandish display warrants outlandish reaction.　He smiles,　at least an approximation of one,　and cranes his head to the side.　A switch to breath through his nostrils,　through barely-parted lips,　and he comes to no reasonable conclusion on which is more tolerable.　❛❛　You’re scared.　❜❜　Then the emittance of a scoff,　laugh with its layers peeled back and pared down.　❛❛　Bet you have to have to plug your nose underwater.　❜❜　Rough fingerpads move in over the breadth of his nose in a demonstration:　isn’t that just embarrassing?　(Audacious man with soaked fingers hauls the spotlight off of himself,　feels the stinging nettles dead-set on reminding him how he hasn’t swam recreationally in the better part of a decade.　It’s just not his style,　he rationalizes.　Those bastards on TV look like hairless chickens.　It’s stupid.)

[388s]

Good morning yall :] getting sick unfort but I will be lurking and attempting some measure of productivity still <3 Hope everyone has a good day, mwah !!

[388s]

So annoying. Idek what's going on really but I love shipping with oc's amen... I expect Leopard to get 5 billion gf's by 6 o'oclock sharp. <3

[388s]

Huge day for Daeshiya nation actually <3333

[388s]

Starter call　⌖　@hiimbo,　Jacob

Fanned flames of anger demand to be fed,　continuously,　filament to fuel the rage that has been raked over the coals.　Too often,　he cannot give a real cause or reason for it,　no justification for what seeps through the cracks of him like poison.　What to be done,　then?　What can Dae-ho make of himself amidst this fury?　It coats the delicate facets of life,　replaces velvet cushioned petals with the abrasive bite of thorns.　Outlet it,　then,　do away with all the ugly threading itself through every interaction;　weight-lifting is not enough,　working out is not enough,　spinning around in the loose orbit of his own musculature will never be enough.　Vessel of choice takes shape as newfound axe-throwing venture,　location freshly opened and daring for business.　Though he hadn’t yet offered his patronage,　it couldn’t be too different from Father’s rituals.　Lethal hands can do what they do best,　no matter how had he’s tried to run from the aggression.

Enter Jacob.　Moreover,　enter ideation that Dae-ho could shift his own desire onto another’s origin　⸻　he,　himself,　is kindly tag-along,　showing his face within the grey walls embellished with hypermasculine iconography　⸻　and absolve himself of violence’s blame.　The two stand in their section,　partitioned by chain link leading the way to bullseye target down the emptied track.　Huff of laughter,　then,　a dip of his head downward to play off his vigor.　❛❛　Thanks for coming.　You ever　—　you ever been before?　It’s my first time.　But I used to,　uh,　do shit like this with my dad all the time when I was younger.　❜❜　Hearty grin upturns the corners of his lips,　devilish,　a far cry from the impelling emotion driving his presence to begin with.　❛❛　We could make it a real competition?　Loser buys dinner.　And I’m a big eater.　❜❜

[388s]

Starter call　⌖　@minglz,　Ji-yeong

Damn it,　does Dae-ho know it’s unhealthy to see sisterly echoes in every ripple of life.　It interferes with his judgment,　tampers with what is otherwise cool-headed clarity.　But he thinks,　too,　that it emboldens him with unprecedented care.　Enter Ji-yeong,　then,　and his self-appointed need to help her back onto her feet.　Knowing better than to prod for disclosure,　knowing she will share when she feels ready,　if she ever does.　Sometimes that’s all it takes,　quiet understanding as beacon of light shone onto life’s thrashing waters.　And,　sometimes,　what a person needs most of all is a friend.　Or to be cared about,　sincerely,　without any strings attached.

❛❛　How are you holding up?　❜❜　In he slips through the apartment doors,　pot still-hot with a generous portion of beef stew.　He sets it down onto the counter,　shaking off where his hands radiated heat with a stiff hiss.　❛❛　Eat up,　alright?　Made way too much and I don’t want it to go to waste.　❜❜　He learned that one from his eldest sister,　love letter and testament to passing help over to those reluctant to accept it.　Now,　it is a favor he asks of her;　allowing not his culinary efforts to be squandered through an overestimated quantity.　Whether or not it was intentional only has to be for him to know.

[leparct]

　　　　　ℒeparct by stevie　&　𝒫uncia by comfort.

if i believe good wombs have borne bad sons,　then i have no qualms using my gun.　original characters　hare　atropos　rebecca　&　leopard　of original lore,　written by stevie　&　comfort.　CROSSOVER　FRIENDLY.

[388s]

Starter call　⌖　@solrites

With dust bunnies gathered in clusters on unswept industrial flooring,　there is only the insinuation of unease creeping onto his features at the gentle odor of mildew.　It comes with the terrain,　perhaps,　innate to a thrift store’s ambiance.　Dae-ho figures Solveig to be best-suited for what feels like Sisyphean task:　older sister Hae-yeon takes one look at his vestments and adjudicates that his work wardrobe needs rehauling.　And Solveig,　damn it,　she’s such a cute little thing with immaculate creativity,　he figures she can aid in aesthetic reinvention.　If anyone can,　it’s her.　That’s all he needs　⸻　to look more kitschy,　more approachable,　like the only authority with the strength to soften up for those who need it.　Dress him up,　then,　dull down the sharp edges he has made of himself.

❛❛　You think this’ll suit me?　❜❜　An eyebrow raises,　incredulous,　at the sweater he holds up over his chest.　❛❛　The　—　the dress code is pretty lax,　especially since I don’t want the kids to be scared of me,　but…　I dunno.　Fuck,　you could probably pull anything off,　since you’re all small ‘n cute…　I just don’t wanna look like a big idiot.　❜❜　Big idiot is as big idiot does.　Still,　his possible outcomes have all been weighed with equal scrutiny.　When in doubt,　WWSBD?

*　What would Solveig Battey do?

[388s]

When in doubt, commission art of the boyfriends, I guess. Anyways gonna give writing at the library a shot (hoping that maybe a change of scenery will help me enjoy writing more) and also do a softblock spree & plotting call in the near future. I’m truly just so fatigued of one-reply threads…