admin algaea actually had this drafted for the longest time and is releasing them right now as she comes back in a few days. remember the rule that if you reblog it from someone else, send them one back!Ā
āwe need help.ā
āyouāre gonna be okay.ā
ābe careful.ā
āi am the romantic type.ā
ādonāt leave me to turn.ā
āitās called luckāand itās gonna run out.ā
āare you still breathing?ā
āweāre shitty people.ā
āare you flirting with me?ā
āwhatās holding you back?ā
āiām not comfortable with this conversation.ā
āwill you /ever/ be comfortable with this conversation?ā
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itās no coincidence that they run into each other and catās shoulder oh so accidentally bumps into hookās - an action he should have thought about twice, considering the difference in their bodies and how cat ends up being the one affected by the momentum. he should have learnt, he should know better than to start shit outside and he should definitely know better than to attempt picking unnecessary battles.
should.
somehow hookās mere presence turns him thoughtless with irritation.
āŖ watch where youāre going, you oaf. ā«
the rational part of the man saidĀ whatever this was between him and cat was stupid. the amount of energy and attention that he cast forth on the other nothing but wasted. maybe his conscious was right, but yet he paid it no mind.Ā
perhaps this was his first mistake.
if it wouldāve been anyone else, hook wouldāve ignored it - there were plenty of assholes in this game, too many unworthy of his attention. but the bastard knew how to get under his skin, how to yank a reaction from him no matter the situation. a little shoulder bump was nothing ( well, at least for him ) but the fact that cat just so happened to the offender - now that was a different story.
hook pauses, watching catās body rack with force from the bump. he canāt help the smug grin that graces his lips nor the tiny snicker that bubbles from his throat at the sight - raising his eyebrows before cocking his head.
āi should be the one saying that. arenāt cats supposed to have quick reflexes or something?ā
recent events had proven that today, in fact, was not his day.Ā from fucking up his laundry ( donāt ask how, he doesnāt know ) to running into strangers on the streets, today was pretty much shit.
the streets werenāt packed so he walked with ease. the man allowed his mind to drift from his current location to his dinner plans for that night. chinese? or maybe pizza?Ā hands dug and searched his jacket pockets for his phone - fingers clasping the device before jerking it from its confines carelessly. thereās that one restaurant down the street but whatās-
the painful collision with another side sent the device flying from his hand. a sound of surprise left his lips, followed by a wince as the sound of his phone meeting the ground reached his ears.Ā āshit shit shit shit...ā hook hadnāt even thought to aplogize - too worried about the phone he had just got possibly being shattered.
quickly, the man crouched and snatched the fallen device from the ground - relieved to find the screen spared. fingers moved to press at the home button, furiously tapping but met with no response.Ā āare you serious?ā just his luck.
( āŗ : // target locked āĀ @blckdataāĀ ) ;
WILL IT SURVIVE?
hook moves over and saint hesitantly climbs in, long limbs conforming to fit in the smaller ball the younger usually slept in. a hand comes up to wipe at his face. he sniffles in the darkness of the room as he rubs at the tear stains on his cheeks, foolishly hoping to wipe them away even as more fall from his eyes. his legs curl in tighter to his body. saint is careful not to touch hook, afraid of the other already being irritated enough with his presence. he wants calm. he wants warmth. saints restrains the want to reach out and focuses on simmering down enough to answer hook. his tongue feels heavy, mouth like cotton.
āhomesick..ā itās the smallest truth he could have told. itās so much more than homesickness. itās so much more than just one thing. this place has made a liar out of him already.
the bed groans under the weight of another body, rustling sheets breaking the eerie silence of early morning. tucking an arm beneath his head, hook shifts his weight to face the other - lids burdened by sleep but kept wide in curiosity. in all of his years living here this was certainly a first.
saint was a breath of fresh air, a relief to find in the world they had been thrown into. an unlikely pair these two had become. the boy who was just as pretty inside as he was on the out and then there was him, a scary face with a strong fistĀ (Ā although hook credited himself in being much more than thatĀ ). this game had no room for the weak hearted; it was survival of the fittest. attachment made you weak - it encouraged one to protect, to make dumb decisions. hook had done well so far but as he listened to those quiet sniffles, he feared saint might have broken him.
his hand extends in the darkness towards the dip in the mattress, blinding reaching to comfort in anyway he was able. the manās hands brush past a knee to a tear soaked hand. his fingers curl around the fist in a firm grip and ignoring the nervous beating of his heart, he leaves it. hook didnāt want to upset him further so he remains on his side - their only connection being their hands and the tiny puffs of breath in the dark.
āyou get used to it.ā perhaps a bit insensitive, it was the truth. homesickness was a feeling they all were familiar with - some worse than others. and although it didnāt necessarily get better, it settles. that was all you could look forward to.Ā ādo you want to talk about it?ā
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I LIVE i went mia for awhile but i swear iām hereĀ ā„ rn iām busy trying to catch up with everything i missed/following people but !!! i will get to messages soon bear with me plsĀ
maybe iām dead. the deafening beats of his heart say otherwise.Ā
dirt is beneath his fingertips, fresh air filtering through his lungs. suddenly heās a child again. expensive clothes hug his tiny frame - soft and lavish to the touch. he can taste the sweet, sticky sensations of a lollipop resting against his tongue. his mother; face youthful, bright as she chats amongst her colleges. the sound of her voice always brought delight to the young boy but for some reason, he feels strangelyĀ empty. her voice is overpowered by an unusual pounding, the steady beat of his heart drowning out the voice of a woman who left him behind.
the concrete is cool against the warm palms of his hands, smoke slithering past the crack of his lips. heās fifteen. a dirtied jacket hangs loosely over his bony shoulders - crumpled bills shoved into the pockets. the taste of nicotine replaces the burn of alcohol, the cigarette heavy between his lips but somehow light between his fingers. a friend; passed out on the ground next to him, reeking of alcohol and their own sweat. the scent is nauseating. his stomach grumbles in response, a unsettling feeling residing deep in the pits of his belly. this isnāt right. the voice in his head sounds louder than usual - the increasing beat of his heart only rivaling the deafening sound of the voice he never bothered to follow.
his body feels heavier than usual, feet too slow atop the flooring of a packed garage. seventeen? the bite of a knife is crueler than he couldāve imagined. the blade tears the skin, cutting deep enough to rip a whimper out of the boy who crumbles to the ground. sweat drips from his hairline and stings his eyes, hands warm with blood as they fumble to cover the fresh wound. his eyes shut and tear while the crowd roars in excitement; a sound he used to love but in that moment, hated more than anything. his chest heaves and his shoulders slump against the weight of an unfamiliar hand. someone help this kid out! the sound was unfamiliar but at the time arises a sense of security inside him. the crowd complains and the stranger speaks louder - his pounding heart accompanied by the worried speech of a man who would soon become his family.
eighteen. sheās too pretty, even as her face has paled and her skin turned cold to the touch. the salt of tears burn hot on his lips - emotions wrecking through his chest as he stares at the woman he loved lifeless before him. she had died gracefully, left this life just as she had entered it. beautiful, pure. loved.Ā his chest hurts, his heart beating violently - hands shaking and ears ringing. itās hard to hear anything but the sound, to ignore the ringing that only causes his heart to beat harder, faster. but it peeps through, the soft cries of his newborn daughter.Ā
he awakes with a start - frightened, confused. a mattress shifts under his weight.Ā
impulse tells him to move so he does. leaping right off that bed and steadying himself against the wall. the beating of his heart tells him heās scared, alive.Ā
fingers anchor into the comforter and tug, soft, trying to get the otherās attention between even quieter hiccups. āhook- hook, can i sleep with you?ā this place may torment him without even trying, but he always feels calmer by the olderās side. he rests easy. hook looks scary, but heās so much the opposite. maybe thatās whatās so disarming. maybe thatās what drew saint to him within the two weeks the younger has been with the collective. heās just so scared. he needs someone to hold onto or heās afraid he might go crazy.
āhook, please..ā
hook slept like a baby. uneasy breaths sent into one of a soundless slumber, the comfort of way too many blankets swallowing him whole before being kicked into the floor, the humid air kissing the bare skin of a man so deep in slumber he doesnāt even register the new arrival. perhaps it was alarming how soundly he slept, unbothered by the moving world just outside his door - how easy it would be for someone to sneak in and kill him in this state.
but sleep was his only escape, the only connection he had left to kang dongho other than the memories he tucked away. nightmares were rare. hook dreamt of the scent of his bed back home, the woman he held snuggly in his embrace, the soft breaths that no longer passed her lips. and peacefully next to her lie their child who had no doubt grown in recent years - dark curls covering her closed eyes and tiny hands enveloped in his larger ones. the feeling was bittersweet, almost heartbreaking. but he had come to accept this was all heād get.
the man awakes only at the sound of anotherās voice - way too slow hands moving to reach for anything to defend himself. hook rises fast but his eyes fail to open properly, weighed by sleep and the darkness coating the room.Ā āw-what?ā he croaks, vaguely registering the familiar sound of saintās voice above his sleep induced confusion. he pauses for a moment as he tries to process exactly what the other is asking and heās not here to kill him.
āare you serious?ā despite his words, hook scoots over just enough to make room for the other - squinting his eyes up at the dark figure above him.Ā ādid something happen? did someone bother you?ā
my late ( per usualĀ ) intro post is here !!! huzzah hooray yeepie hallelujah FINALLY I MANAGED TO GET HIM HERE AXNKOIFJM iām ali and this is my scary faced, soft hearted hook ā„ as for his welcome messages, thank you to everyone who sent them i will be responding soon~ but in the meantime, please give this a like if youād like to plot !!! you can reach me here in ims or on twitter ā„ and thankfully, i finally finished up his profile so feel free to check that out !!! sadly his bio did not make it into my Productive Hour so check out some stuff about him under the cut~Ā
starts off as a wealthy, proper little dude with rich/high society parents who spoiled him to death.Ā they never really cared what he did so thatās what kinda led to his downfall in high school
his first year he kinda got mixed in with the wrong crowd
he picked up that notorious drinking habit, started stealing money from his parents so he could pay for the alcohol bc i mean thatās what the kid with the clueless rich parents does
but when money started missing the parents started to get suspicious so he then found himself in the underground fighting scene to replace the money
gained the nickname hook bc of those bomb ass moves ty
this went on for awhile until he eventually got caught and theeeeen they kicked him out oops
so he was homeless for a few months, dropped out of high school and focused on earning himself enough money in fights to buy food and the occasional place to stay. but luckily he befriended this really Cool⢠dude who took him inĀ and kinda pushed him into the safer world of boxing rather than street fighting so hook is v thankful for thatĀ
ended up falling in love with the dudeās older sister and both married and knocked her up when he was 17
v family oriented, couldnāt see any negatives in the situation
loved his wife to death - took up whatever job he could and started saving so they wouldnāt be mooching off his friend forever
his wife ended up passing away in child birth
this kinda messed him up tbhĀ
but he loves his daughter nonetheless
he was taken just a month after the event so thatās also a little messed up
now he just wants to go back to his old life so he can take care of his daughter
sheās the only reason heās trying at this point tbhĀ
despite all of this this heās v niceĀ
doesnāt really want to step on other candidatesā toes so he tries to keep to himself mostly
trying to stay on the downlow, climbing his way to the top as painlessly as possible
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