#always mentally dating someone!! and they’re always fictional characters

[hahnspoetry]

thinking about how my friend sent me this:

and said this reminded him of me and my fictional character obsessions like dude? pls don’t call me out.

[writingtraumaforever]

Hey, I was wondering what your take on shadow and sonics sexuality is? I personally see Shadow as a gay aroacesep and sonic as bisexual but I was wondering what your take on them would be! I've seen other people headconnon sonic as Trans. I love your work and writing! Keep it up! I always get so excited when i see a new work or chapter! I'm sorry about what happened with the recent news on why you don't post art. People can be cruel without meaning, too. They should have asked for your age before doing that. Just so you know, we all support you and love you! Lots of love and kudos from one of your fans!

HELLO!! First of all, thank you so much for supporting my writing! <3 and thank you for the sentiment.. it feels like a lifetime ago, but I still get my anxiety. I’m trying to slowly integrate some art here and there to fight this anxiety, though! ^^ <3

I’m much better now and safe and feel very loved. <3

As for Sonic and Shadow’s sexuality ahhh—

Okay.

For Shadow, I find it to be more of a deeply rooted sort of attraction than physical. For this reason, I see him as a bit on the asexual side. He’s not a very sexual person to begin with, but is attracted to one’s mind and thoughts and abilities and what one chooses to do with them. Once connected in that sort of way, THEN he may be more open to physical interactions. Like with Sonic, they’re connected. They understand one another. He also sees him as this inevitable good which takes him back to Maria. Sonic pushes Shadow to be better as a person and as a fighter, and so Shadow respects him deeply even if he doesn’t always admit it. All this to say— I think he’s more on the demisexual realm of things. Because even when he and Sonic start talking more and go on dates, he doesn’t inherently become attracted to him in that sort of way until they’ve been dating for some time. And then it’s like BOOM. Oh, I like him, and he likes me. We should do something about that. Shadow doesn’t let people in, so when he does it’s pretty magical.

As for Sonic??? Dude is bi. I’d even say he’s pansexual to be fair. With how many different species he’s dated/flirted with, he’s just there to connect with whomever his heart is currently leading him to and that’s FINE. I’ve seen people headcanon him as trans and I always think that’s so cute to see!!! Representation is lovely, and people being able to express themselves through their favorite fictional character is a great form of comfort. As for me? He’s not trans in my writing. Not because I don’t like it, but because I, myself, am not trans, so to write the mindset of someone who has walked that path feels hypocritical and disingenuous to me. I feel like I’m a fraud when I try to put myself in the mindset of people (especially minorities) that I’ll never truly be able to understand or experience. I wouldn’t do that journey and all the complications and mental battles that come with it justice. So I simply stay away from that sort of thing out of respect. I feel someone who can relate to it more would do a far better job of writing Sonic being trans than I ever could. <3

[m4dm4yhem]

Hey! Mind if I asked for a darker topic?,

S it okay if I request Gwen Stacy with gnc reader, but like...the suicide/self harm one, just like the rest of the spiders? I haven't seen any, but I liked your writing and wanted to see Gwen's,

It's okay if you don't want to, I understand<3

Have a good time

summary: gwen knew what she was getting into when she dated [name], they always had a issue with self harm and their mental health.. while it was a lot to take on, she was always there.. until.. she wasn’t.

a/n: tysm for the request & enjoying my writing! I’ll try my best to do this right, and if you ever feel like you have no one; just dm me and we can chat and become friends, while this is fictional work feelings like this are very real, if you need anything dm me; they’re open for anyone, of all ages. I am a judgement free blog, and if you ever need me to write something with your comfort character comforting you in particular ( not a reader but YOU) I will not hesitate to write something like that up for you as well, I hope you guys are all okay, drink water and make sure you stay healthy. but once again my reader will always be black, my apologies if someone reading this is not black, but a black reader is the only one I am able to do because I am black.

TW: self-harm, suicide, reader’s death, character death, suicidal thoughts, voices, hallucinations

__________________________________________________

GWEN LOVED BEING SPIDER-WOMAN…

it was a tough job, but it meant she could save people, ever since she had lost peter, she wanted nothing more than to save those she loved, those who cared about her.. whether that be gwen stacy or ghost spider.

gwen loved to save her partner the most. she knew she probably shouldn’t have a favorite person to save; but this was someone close to her, someone who understood her, someone she loved and who loved her.

and that person was [name], her partner.. while it could be draining once she got a second to herself, it was harsh and worrisome when she got calls from her partner.. letting her know they wouldn’t be at school for a week or two due to an attempt on their life, and they’d ended up in the mental hospital.

it was scary, learning when they relapsed and they came to her for help. it was a lot, but it wasn’t too much, it was never too much.. because when you love someone.. their problems become yours. their emotions become your own as well if you aren’t too careful.

___________________________________________________

a tear slipped down [name]’s cheek, the voices were acting up again. telling them they were not enough for their girlfriend.. whispering in their ears in the late of the night that they might as well kill themselves, the poor teen gripped on their hair, and yanked on it; dry curls from the weeks they went without wearing their bonnet and moisturizing their hair were left behind in their palms.

“ jesus.. I can’t do anything right, I can’t take care of my hair.. I can’t do basic hygiene.. “ [name] began; feeling the tears begin to well up in their eyes once more.

“ yes.. you’re worthless.. you can’t do anything.” the voices spoke in their head, mentions of being ‘ useless’, ‘ a burden’, as well as insults on their appearance being thrown around as well.

it wasn’t until the mention of gwen; is when the tears really started to roll..

“ why is she even still with you?”

“ all you do is burden her.”

“ the world would be better off without you..and she’d even be happier if you just killed yourself.”

[name] tried to fight the urge, -after the brain they hated so much began to overwhelm them with the thoughts of how much.. better gwen’s life would be if they just.. were not in it. - but.. the urge to grab the knife and slice their wrist.. where many scars already lay was strong. the need and desire to hurt themselves to give themselves a peace of mind.. to not burden her.. it was stronger than the small voice of gwen’s in the back of their mind..

“ if anything like this happens again, please call me.”

it rang in their head, the voice of their girlfriend begging them to call her if any suicidal thoughts popped up, if any hallucinations or voices were heard or seen. if anything was bothering them, gwen was always there to lend a helping hand.. but whenever she needed anything.. they were always in the hospital, always there because they had made an attempt on their life.

the voices rang loud, they were overwhelming.. and it felt like they couldn’t even control their body as they hurried to the kitchen from their bedroom, and grabbed the sharpest knife that was available; hurrying to push their sleeve up, dragging the blade across their skin, small slits that were slowly dripping blood, their body shook, eyes closing; they couldn’t keep a steady hand. the knife was pressed against their wrist, and it was dragged across.. hitting a vein.

[name] open their eyes, and was met with a white slit against their dark skin, eyes widening. they knew what that meant.

the blood came next, “ oh shit.” they mumbled; trying to find a cloth, the blood was rushing quickly. the only thing they found was a sponge, pressing it against their arm. hurrying back upstairs to call the first person that came to mind, their girlfriend.

___________________________________________________

“ - okay, that doesn’t mean-“ gwen stopped for a moment, she was in the middle of a fight with a villain, “ wait.. hang on.” she sheepishly spoke as she pulled out her phone, picking up the phone “ hey.. honey, I’m kinda.. in the middle of-“

“ gwen.. gwen.. I’m sorry, but I need you right now.. I relapsed and.. I-…I’m bleeding bad, I can’t stop it.” [name]’s voice was full of distress, it was full of cracks and they couldn’t stop crying, gwen could hear the sobs

“ what?!” her voice was loud, worrying dripping from her lips, she turned to face the villain and then looked at her phone. “ sorry.. sorry.” she spoke multiple times, “ what?! fight me spiderwoman!” the villain had yelled, obviously offended from her words. gwen didn’t say much else, but just swung away, using her webs to swing her as quickly as possible to her lover’s house, keeping them on the phone. “ i’m here.. i’m here..” the panic in her voice was obvious as she tried to comfort her sobbing lover, who couldn’t stop apologizing, “ did you call the police?” gwen was just hoping an ambulance would be there when she arrived as well

“ no..i just.. I panicked and called you first.”

‘oh no..no.. no!’ gwen’s thoughts were running crazy, and her vision was starting to get blurry, “ hang on.. ima call you back.. I’m gonna call an ambulance first.” gwen’s voice was soft, and the last ten seconds of the call was her reassuring her partner that they’d be okay, that it was only a few moments they’d be apart before she dialed 911, telling the operator that her partner had cut themselves too deep and needed medical attention. the operator kept her on longer than she originally thought; giving the operator [name]’s address, to send a ambulance, the operator kept asking questions but gwen wasn’t in the right mind to answer them, so she avoided them by hanging up.

when she had finally made it to [name]’s window, her heart dropped, seeing her lover in a pool of their own blood.. shook her to her very core. it was something she would never forget.

“ h-hey…hey!” her eyes were wide, and she couldn’t think straight at that very moment. she quickly pulled the window open and hurried inside, “ [name]!” she quickly pulled her mask off, her blue eyes staring at her lover, gwen rushed to their side, giving them a few quick shakes to see if they were still alive.

they weren’t.

gwen had tried to cup their cheek, the body was still warm but the look in their eyes told gwen all she needed to know, “ oh my god..” she muttered, “ no.. no..” her blue eyes stared into [name]’s. seeing how dull and lifeless they looked, she should’ve been there..

she should’ve been with them, to help them through this.. god why did that stupid villain have to decide to rob that store.. was he even a villain? more or so just a criminal? why was she thinking about this now?

just.. why.

why.

why

___________________________________________________

it was at this time that gwen thought about the song IFHY.. by tyler the creator, not because the song related to her, it didn’t. but the line

“ life without you has no goddamn meaning.”

made her think about every second she had spent with her partner, and discovering their dead body was a lot, it hurt. her mind, body, and soul were affected from their death. she took a deep breath as she looked over New York, it didn’t make any sense to her.. why [name] wasn’t next to her. it would’ve made sense if they lived, they would be in the hospital by now, getting treated for their mental health.. but, they were sitting alone. somewhere, their body cold, she’d never get to hold them again, never would get to kiss them again.

she’d never..

unless.

she looked down at the drop to the ground, it’d be enough to kill her right..?

the thought was enough to shock her, she was never one to think about ending her life, these feelings were so heavy, and it hurt.. but.. she missed [name]..

she stood up, standing at the edge of the building

“ hey gwen.. i love you..c’mere”

“ you’re so funny.. c’mere.. I wanna cuddle”

“ gwen.. can you come over?”

“ come on.. give me a kiss..”

every single time.. her lover had wanted her to come closer to them, whether that be for a hug.. a kiss.. or just to be close together.. and sit in silence ran through her head, it was like.. the voice in her head.. of her dead partner was beckoning her to come to them? should she do it?

she missed [name]..

she missed them so much

but the thought of all her friends back at HQ.. her dad..

but the pain was too much for her.. she just wanted it to end.. she already went through enough.

maybe she’d also see her mother again?

her mother.. and [name].. she missed them.

too much..

she missed them too much not to..

she took a deep breath, deciding she’d actually do it..

she closed her eyes, swallowing any anxiety she had..

it was quite ironic to her, every other gwen stacy variant had died by falling to their death after falling in love with spiderman.. and she had tried so hard to never become the next dead gwen stacy. but here she was.. jumping off the building, letting her body fall.. with a smile on her face, tears fell out of her eyes.. a feeling of anxiety in her stomach.. and fear.. but peace as well…

she didn’t even feel herself hit the ground, but anyone who fell victim to the witness of a teenage girl taking her life knew.. she wasn’t alive, she couldn’t be, not after that ten story drop…

she was gone

[bugeyedfreaks]

About your ppgxrrb post, as someone who’s in the shipdom for years but now only like it because of certain famous fic, I agree.

Pretty sure some of the shippers would agree with it too but a lot of them are excusing their toxic behaviors as just the boys being toddlers + doesn’t know any better since most of the fics takes place when they’re teenagers/older. I disagree with the whole “they’re kids they don’t know any better” excuse cause they’re fictional characters and they’re just born bad/evil, and its not that deep

…I ended up writing a whole lot and I’m gonna cut it just so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash with my Deep PPG/RRB Opinions. 😆

Yeah, ugh, it wouldn’t bring me down so much if what you said wasn’t such a prevalent line of thought, but if there are some shippers who would agree with what I wrote before… I don’t understand what would compel them to ship the characters in the first place! I can’t understand it! I’m not saying, “You’re a bad fan/person if you ship [XYZ]!” I know people who genuinely love the original PPG series, people who I also genuinely love and cherish and think are amazing and wonderful and yet… they ship it, to my constant confusion. For years and years. 😂 I’ve even read that one fic and… I swear, I tried, I wanted to like it, I was told it was written true to the show and I Wanted To Believe… but how can the main premise be “true to the show” when it’s already 100% antithetical to who the characters are in canon in the first place? I sadly could not enjoy it. Like I said in my post, they would never be the redeemable bad boys because they’re literally pure evil. And I get suspension of belief in fan creations, I understand that fanfic is people’s way of… I dunno, indulging their fantasies in their favorite media or whatever, and I’m not vilifying anyone for daring to commit the ~atrocious~ sin of… wanting their faves to find true love. 🤣 …but what’s the point if the characters you write just turn out to be shells of how they actually act? At that point you should just go for it and make up your own original characters. Embrace the cringe!

A while ago I got really inspired and wanted to write a PPG fanfic for the first time in a million years, and since most of the story in my head included the villains in a large way, I felt kind of forced to try to add the boys (because, speaking of things that get me down, you will never get any substantial visibility on AO3 or whatever if you don’t at least include them in the tags, no matter how creative or novel your fanfic may possibly be) so I started thinking about this whole idea of how they’d really act towards the girls all grown up. I never wrote down anything substantial because I abandoned the fic, but I came to a general conclusion that 1) Brick would be complaining that the girls weren’t following traditional gender roles (i.e. the ones made up by creeps involving sandwiches and ladies making them in the kitchen for him), 2) Butch would be foaming at the mouth to sex up any girl that moved (wham, bam, thank ya ma’am… his love of carnage and leave ‘em for dead mentality would get reflected in his mixed up hormones in the worst possible way), and 3) Boomer would be the white knight who would complain and cry and eventually flip out Bubblevicious style about why none of the girls were dating himmmmmm and whyyyyy oh my goddddd he was so niiiiice to themmmmm so because of that THE THOTS MUST PAY! 🤣 They are the examples of “toxic masculinity,” like… true toxic masculinity. They canonically thrive on the toxicity. That’s why attacks against it weaken them! It‘s never suddenly changed their bad behavior for good ever. They could be beaten again and again and, instead of accepting that maybe their worldviews are bad, maybe applying some self-introspection to their awful ways and adopt any sort of good behavior, they would always ultimately double down. In the fic world, they’re grown guys, and they should know better, but it would be against their basic canon nature to want to.

…again, I’m not trying to be a downer on anyone who indulges in it, this is just an explanation of why I really can’t gel with it and just my thought process behind why that is/how I think they’d actually act. The popular depiction of them as ultra hottie bad bois who secretly have true hearts of gold under all the blatant misogyny just feels so untrue to canon to me that suspending my disbelief whenever I see the kajillion fics and fanart out there of them successfully winning the girls’ hearts is… tough.

TL;DR:

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Okay, so, I think I probably ought to get around to talking about my thoughts on the past two Casualty eps before yet another one airs! I’m not going to do a big recap-style commentary like I usually do, but I’ll discuss them a bit.

I’ve thought both of the latest eps were very good. I did prefer “Once Bitten” (the week before last’s) to “Armour-Plated” (last week’s), but that’s mostly because “Once Bitten” had more Jacob scenes. Whereas last week I felt there was too much Faith and not enough Jacob. I know my favourite character (well, he’s in my top 3 favourites, but that’s beside the point) can’t be the focus every week, but wouldn’t it be nice if he could??

More thoughts on “Once Bitten”:

I thought the snake was hilarious. I love that snake, and I don’t think I’m the only person who can’t stand Faith Cadogan and thinks the snake is an absolute icon, haha.

The Jacob scenes were absolutely brilliant. This storyline is being done so well. Jacob is becoming one of my favourite ever fictional portrayals of an abuse survivor. (While of course a lot of his actions at the moment are about trying to make up for Robyn, I think it goes back to Tina as well: the theme of Jacob trying to ‘save’ people was there in the coercive control storyline, too. And we had the episode a few months ago - I can’t remember the title - where we saw that he’s still affected by what happened with Tina, when he went on a date with his friend and he panicked and walked away.) I relate to him so much that that’s part of why I’ve been quiet about this episode for a while - I didn’t even know what to say because I was too emotional. So, yeah.

Incredibly well-written, and incredibly well-acted. Charles Venn is one of the very best actors Casualty has ever had IMO.

I loved the scene with Jacob and Charlie. I’m usually not interested in Charlie, but after I’d been feeling like “someone please realise that Jacob is in pain!!” for half the ep, it was a relief for me to see Charlie realise it and try to reach out to him. Didn’t Charlie used to be a mental health nurse, before the events of the show? Maybe that’s why he realised Jacob is struggling when others haven’t.

The patient storylines were very good. I always appreciate an episode with good patient storylines.

More thoughts on “Armour-Plated”:

It’s cool that Cam, Jodie, and Rida are all moving in together. That provides some great story potential, I think, and also potential for great comedy.

Iain’s storyline was very good. Iain is another character I’m usually not interested in, but I felt for him in this ep strongly. Michael Stevenson’s performance was excellent. And, of course, I loved Jacob being there and being supportive to him - although I’m also sad that Jacob is there being supportive and comforting to Iain, yet also thinking (as he said in the previous episode) he doesn’t deserve to have friends like that there for him himself. :( Oh, Jacob.

I still don’t care for Faith as a character and I can’t imagine I ever will. I don’t have much more to say about that.

The Jodie and Max dynamic is very interesting to me, and I loved the scene where Max stayed and sat with the lad with the bigoted father.  That scene made me wonder even more about Max’s backstory. Maybe it will turn out his parents were emotionally abusive to him or something, and that’s both why he bonded with the boy (he could relate to him), and why he didn’t want to raise Jodie (he thought he’d turn out like his parents). I think, whatever the reason he’s not been there for Jodie is, it’s going to be more complex than just being a bad father.

Yay for Sah! I love how Sah is just so casually, openly trans. It’s such a nice thing to see in a character.

And I’m very much enjoying the Teddy and Paige relationship so far. They’re great together, I’m interested to see what comes of their relationship.

That’s all I can think of to say. So, more of my thoughts about Jacob will come when the next ep airs. (I will talk about other characters too, but I’m kind of focused on Jacob at the moment, so my next episode commentary will probably be mostly about him.)

[alistonjdrake]

I don’t know how to say this without sounding mean but there’s a little thing going around where people are rating romance tropes on a star scale (it’s on Twitter) and no one I follow will even acknowledge that age gap is on the list. They just make jokes under their main tweets about it being gross or how they won’t read stories with them.

And I think about how I asked for a sliding scale of when people think an age gap “starts” and I just got a bunch of responses of people not answering the question or saying (worse) “it’s not an age gap if they’re both consenting adults!” And I think it’s weird how it’s been turned into something we inherently see as problematic. Or to assume that when mentioned it always involves a teenager or “barely legal” adult and someone much, much older. But it would be really silly to say my characters from one of my shorts, Virgil and Wilder aren’t an age gap because they’re both fully mature adults when one is in his 40s and the other is 70. Like. That’s 30 years. It’s undoubtedly an age gap. They don’t share many common life experiences. One was alive and a complete adult when the other was born. One lived through different historic events and societal developments. They have different experiences, life expectancy, etc. It’s not my fault when I say these words you only imagine 34 year olds hitting on high school kids.

Is it true that a large chunk of it seems revolve around that? Sure. But it’s not fair to the trope in general because as a connoisseur of old, pathetic men I should be allowed to discuss them and their relationships within my settings without someone assuming the other partner is a literal child just because of the accurate descriptor I use.

You will not convince time that’s it’s not silly to say if both characters are above the age of 20 you can’t call it an age gap because “they’re both fully developed mentally” and “older adults have more in common and the distance gets smaller.” I’m sorry but for who? If you put me in a room with 50-somethings right now I’m sure we could talk and get along but I just don’t have the same experiences as them. If I told people I was dating a 68 year old man at my age they’d likely still raise eyebrows even if my brain has finished cooking and I’ve owned a house and paid taxes and have gone through big “adult” milestones.

The way I feel about discussions of fictional age gaps is akin to people seeing love triangle as a tagged trope and assuming the female character is going to be a personality-less object of affection between two interchangeable and misogynistic male leads. Like does it happen? Of course! Is it fair to the stories that aren’t that to paint them all this way and write off any usage of the trope of problematic garbage with valueless stories to tell? Yes!

[tiredelirium]

D.17

Trying to think of the first character I fell in love with. Not meaning, like, ‘oh my god they’re the best ever’ but like actual ‘if they were a real person and I got to date them I’d be the happiest thing on planet earth’ typa love. It’s a hard remembering because my long term memory is actually abysmal.

If I had to settle on first fictional crush, I think it’d be Jessie and James from Pokemon, but I don’t think they’d make me the happiest, though I’d have a lot of fun with them and their hijinks. Even now if I see art of either of them, I can catch myself quickly fantasising without realising it at first.

Trying to think of all the media I’ve ever consumed and it’s hard to find that one character. I mean, what is an ideal fictional love really? It doesn’t exist and can never exist, because no matter what character you fell in love with or empathised with they’ll always just be a character.

You can personify them, style yourself after them, or find someone similar to them in some way, but it’ll never be truly real.

The human brain sucks sometimes honestly.

Though I suppose if you can’t even fall in love with something fictional, how can you ever fall in love with something real?

Imagination can be blinding, haunting and foreboding all at once. It can make your heart sing, your mind race, and your body dance to rhythms you didn’t even know possible.

Point is, I don’t know if I’ll ever remember the first character who made me feel that way. I’m certain there’ll be plenty more in my life though, because there has been plenty already. Rarely from movies, but a lot from games and animations for sure.

I’ve never been the type to care about celebrities in any way. I don’t know the names of the band-members in my favourite bands even. There’s a handful of popular names I’m aware of because of course you’re gonna know who Keanu Reeves or Emma Stone is with general knowledge. But I’ve never made it a habit or interest to be invested in their careers or lives at all. It’s their lives after all, they just chose to act, or voice act in some cases. Fame might’ve never even been a consideration.

I’d hate to have attention in that way. It might just be the introversion talking, but I think I’d die if too many people actively knew of me or what I was doing on a monthly basis. Which is ironic considering one of the first things I said in these journals is I wonder if others think about me.

I think I’d always stick to being as anonymous as possible. There are some great creators out there who take that as far as they can to keep their face or even real name out of media control. Yoko Taro and his masks for instance. Or even just pen names for authors who write smut and never wanted their real names tied up in the publishing process.

At one point in time I had several pen names in mind for if I ever published anything. Some are rearrangements of part of my name, or the full thing, to make ludicrous names. Thankfully I have a lot of letters to work with my full name, so coming up with strange ones and actual ones isn’t too bad.

I hope I use one of them one day. Even though I wouldn’t like fame, I would like people to read something I wrote in earnest. To hear their thoughts and opinions, likes and dislikes, criticisms both constructive and derivative.

Maybe one day I’ll get through this rut of stop gaps and hesitations, and distractions, and actually do something for others to read.

I hope this journal motivates me to that end.

A web serial would be fun, but a commitment I’m definitely not prepared for yet, mentally or emotionally.

On day though.

[clairethecutepup]

New Series Bible: "Tykes at Heart"

Just a little something for safe-keeping... and to possibly get anyone interested.

*Note: “Tyke” doesn’t just refer to small children, but also “a domestic animal related to wolves and foxes.” (Source) Plus, it can also refer to a canine with mixed ancestry, like being of two different breeds combined. Claire, Leena, Cio and even Sparky are all canine-hybrids, and either are like kids or are still kids.

Full-on Series Synopsis:

In Wolfuchs, Germany, there exists a quartet of friends: Torrlentcio “Cio” Volpe (and his robotic pet, “Faxie”), the Winnings Twins of Leena and Spartak (“Sparky”), and little Clarissa “Claire” Vlcek. They’re an untraditional friendship group, given how Claire and Cio are adults, while Leena and Sparky are young teenagers. Regardless, Leena and Sparky are more like the “older siblings” of the other two, in both height and sense of care: they heavily acknowledge Claire and Cio’s genetic condition that essentially keeps them in the bodies of children (tweens at oldest; Claire also still being a child mentally), and the husky-hybrids are twins raised with a strong sense of morals and that involves looking out for others in possible need.

Claire and Cio aren’t shy of returning the favor: even Claire will still take on an adult’s expected responsibilities toward those younger, such as offering advice or protecting the teens from harm (when they’re not the ones instantly shielded instead). Overall, it’s more a relationship of older and younger siblings, than parents/offsprings or other things maternal/paternal in nature. Either way, the group truly are a bunch of kids (or “tykes”) enjoying the privilege of still holding onto childhood joys and all. And, the chaos that can often follow… 

Shorter Synopsis:

Life’s always a lot more fun (and crazy) when you’re a child, or “tyke,” at heart! 

Setting Notes:

-Claire: She lives with her small family of Ookami and Sherubi (Mothers), Grayson (father figure and he’s NOT in a “poly” relationship with the first two…), and Skyler and Raifu (siblings). She’s actually of quite a well-off background and home, they just live modestly within an appropriately-sized and woodside cabin. It’s a bit outside of Wolfuchs, but they’re not as “isolated” nor “cut off” as many would imagine of a countryside setting. Sometimes, she’ll do the usual sleepover at Cio’s or the Winnings’ locations.

-Cio: He lives in his pizzeria, Zampa Pie, in the upper second story. He’s got a “backyard” area that he mostly uses to house Rocko the goat. His living area is as you’d expect from someone like him: a big and powerful computer, a TV screen that he uses for the PC monitor and entertainment, a sleeping bag, and other things from a typical man of pop culture tastes. Sometimes, he’ll be invited to stay at Claire’s place, or Grayson will come over and stay a bit to ensure his brother’s still managing fine (much to Cio’s annoyance).

-Leena and Sparky: The twins live within an apartment complex, where they share a giant room (they’re still not in need of more “privacy” yet…). They’re under the care of their mother and father, but sometimes stay with their grandfather figure: Herrmin, in his pole barn behind the dollar (euro) shop. The apartment complex is standard for a family of four: two rooms for parents and children to individually share, a living room, bathroom, and kitchenette. The pole barn is essentially a giant living room that’s mixed with a kitchen and bedroom, but there’s dividers for the bathroom area. It’s not a matter of financial issues or anything, it’s just nice for the kids to spend time with everyone in their own family group.

-Location: The series takes place in the fictional location of Wolfuchs, Germany. It’s a modern time setting, so characters will be seen using the latest technology and all; however, caution must be taken to avoid the “dated” trap. For example, the characters do not use smartphones like ours, but instead use a hybrid between pre-2000’s and post-2020’s cell phones: a folding phone with a keyboard half, but the screen is touch-responsive. Think of if 3DS-es were meant for making calls and using the internet, instead of only gaming. Humans are also essentially the same, save for the separate groups of “full-humans” and “hybrids.” Other than that, it’s the same world as ours. However, Wolfuchs contains far more hybrids than full-humans. Since it’s also in Germany, a European country, the most common race will be Caucasians.

Misc. Notes:

-Cio has help running his pizza shop, thanks to: Suru, Kage and Ryuketsu, the Kitsumairu Triplets.

-Claire isn’t allowed to be left alone; so Sparky, Leena and Cio also double as “babysitters,” with the first two even being paid as thanks (Cio already has an income). Claire isn’t upset by it, she knows Sparky and Leena like hanging out with her in general. If none of the other three are available, she’ll be hanging out with Yami instead.

-Yami is a familial friend, just as Terra is-- the latter even being Skyler’s biological (and fully human) mother.

-Sherubi is a doctor, Grayson is a pharmaceutical chemist, while Ookami stays at home and tends to all domestic/familial needs (bills, health appointments, etc…). Skyler is a commissionable artist of moderate success, Raifu is a factory worker, and Claire will help around with the house and errands also. The Winnings couple follow a more traditional lifestyle: a wife/mother in the home, a husband/father earning an income (lumberjacking). Then there’s Herrmin’s and Cio’s mentioned lifestyles, and the predictability of the Winnings Twins having their own chores.

[fightingthetides]

Lambo makes a face. If she didn’t confess yet, how would she know he didn’t like her? Why wouldn’t it work out? The reason couldn’t possibly be that she fell for someone that she couldn’t see a future with, as Haru was very clear about her sense of morals and what she couldn’t tolerate others stepping over boundary-wise. There were only a few reasons why a relationship ‘wouldn’t work out.’

1, he’s a fictional character. 2, he’s taken, or 3, he already likes someone else.

“Why? You don’t know if you don’t try.” He finally had the chance to return that saying to her. When he’d ever say something about how he couldn’t do his homework or didn’t want to, she would always tell him how would he know he couldn’t do it if he didn’t at least try first? It felt nice being the one to say it for once. The smug grin on his face said it all.

At Haru explaining her type, Lambo was diligently listening, making some mental notes in his head. It was important information and maybe he can help her look for someone! “That’s right, if Lambo-san doesn’t like them, then they can’t be good for Haru.” She always cared about her friends, and if a prospective person couldn’t get along with her friends, she’d lose all interest in them. One time, this guy had bullied Lambo and the cow-child had the chance to tattle to Haru when he noticed the guy was flirting with her a few days later. He’d never seen someone get turned down so fast with record timing. He knew that Haru couldn’t date someone she couldn’t befriend first off, and the prospective person had to get along with the others or she wouldn’t consider them. It didn’t matter how cool or good looking they were, she wouldn’t give them the time of day.

That’s whyyyyyy it makes sense for Lambo-san to judge any guys that tries to flirt with Haru! Gyhahaha! No undeserving guy can look at Haru! “You’re right. The only ones who are stronger than me are the other guys—but only for now! Lambo-san will be stronger than them in a few more years!” He will admit they’re more stronger than him, but that’s only because he’s still young. He has a lot of potential to grow stronger, and when he does—it’s over for them! Aho-Dera especially will be groveling at his feat! Guahahahaha!

Wait? That means he can start looking among the older guys, right? Hardworking, kind, loyal, competent, and reliable. That means take out Tsuna, Enma, Gokudera, and Hibari. Mukuro is scary so take him out too. He kept thinking in his mind when she says something that catches his attention. As long as he spares some time for her every once in a while? “Haru, your standards are really low. You can do better than that.” Who cares if they’re in the mafia? Does that mean you can’t fall in love? Look at Maman and Tsuna’s dad! They’re very in love! Ah, but he does spend a lot of time away from home. Ehh…

“I’ll start looking! I’ll start with the older guys! Don’t worry Haru, I can find someone for you.” Cue the cheesy grin. He’s already plotting his next mission. Stop him now or forever be tormented by this gremlin.

Lambo was always so straightforward that it sometimes caught her off guard that she sputters in shock. “Hahi!?” No tact, this kid. “No, Haru hasn’t confessed yet, but she probably won’t. It wouldn’t work out.” There were multiple reasons for why she felt this way.

There was the fact that she thought that he felt neutral about her at best. Really, he very rarely ever showed interest in anyone, so she didn’t think he ever thought about romance or anything. It was probably him being such a workaholic that romance didn’t occupy a single percent of his brain. That’s why she’d jokingly tell her friends that Gokudera was already seeing someone named ‘Vongole,’ but she also actually meant it in earnest.

Of course, there were her own personal issues as well. Lambo did happen to overhear one instance of people talking about her in relation to her past feelings for a certain someone. The rumors would get worse if she were to date someone else in the Vongola, that much was a given. She didn’t want to be the reason for people to look at him with pity like, ‘poor guy doesn’t know he’s being used’ or something similar. Moreover, she was concerned that she’d be doubted. For a person who wore her heart on her sleeve, being doubted was the most gut-wrenching thing ever. It was probably for the best that she push her feelings down and wait for them to go away in time.

She really knew how to fall in love with someone and then realize, ‘I probably should give up on this.’ She’s two for two so far!

She giggles at his questions. Luckily, she understood what he meant by ‘boring type,’ as it came with the territory of being around him for many years. “No, I can only look at people who are a part of the underground world. I can’t be with a regular person.” They wouldn’t be able to understand the life she’d decided to associate herself in, and she didn’t want to drag anyone into it either. “You’re right, I have to find someone who is strong, don’t I?” The irony in the sense that the person she had feelings for was the very person that Lambo sometimes ran away from. If he got Gokudera really mad, Lambo often would text Haru about it so she’d have to go and rescue him. (Lambo asserts that he called for backup. It’s different from hiding or running away.)

She didn’t forget about him asking about her type. She never wanted to stifle his curious spirit (as it was hard enough motivating him to study some days), so Haru had the tendency to answer whatever Lambo asked. “As for Haru’s type… let’s see… people who are hardworking, kind, loyal. Would be nice if they only had eyes for me,” a comment she mostly muttered to herself, “They’d have to get along with Lambo-chan if he’s going to be judging them, right?” She pats the top of his head. She honestly found it endearing that he wanted to judge whoever she could possibly get into a relationship with. It was like he was looking out for her. “Haru may end up single forever if they have to be stronger than you, Lambo-chan,” she says in half-jest. “As long as they’re competent, and reliable, that’s enough. I don’t need to be their priority, but I would like if they could spare some time for me every once in a while.” Low standards, this one.

Asking to be a priority of anyone who is from the Yakuza or the mafia was asking a lot, so she understood that and had to concede. “I guess the most important thing is that they like me” and think that she’s good enough. She quickly shakes her head, catching herself dipping back into a deprecating thought. “Did that answer your question, Lambo-chan?”

[base0h]

hi! ive been reading your works for a little while now and i was actually wondering if you could do this idea: what about roles swapped au? to clarify; what if we, the readers, turn into anime characters and the one piece charcters (specifically the worst gen trio tho) would do when they're a huge simp for the reader?

I could also see this as them being set in the modern world and us being in the world of one piece ig. reader is a really great scythe wielder as well! maybe even some blood manipulation? your choice really.

btw, this ask is inspired by another ask i saw! i think they said that thsy were inspired by an obey me shall we date swapped au thing? anyway, i really love your works btw! keep going, darlin'!

— eustass kid simp anon ♥️

a/n - YES :0 I love this idea sm I’ve only seen it the other way around :3 awww tysm anon!! I appreciate the support 💜\(//∇//)\💜 I’ll try not to bully kid just for you <3

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, reader’s a badass as usual 🫡, reader has “chi chi no mi” blood blood fruit (inspired by this), modern au/one piece world kinda?

Law

- he’s kind of a silent simp ya know??

- NO ONE and absolutely NO ONE knows about his fictional crush

- he secretly has his wallpaper set to a picture of you 👀

- But he changes it when he goes to school 💀

- man is such. A . Loyal. Simp.

- like he won’t simp for anyone else but you

- he’s a y/n simp all the way 😭💜

- with other simps he’s like: no?? They’re fictional??

- But we all know he literally worships you 🙄

- whenever he watches one piece, he saves the episodes with you in them and it’ll always brighten his day to see you get the screen time you deserve ✨

- You’re such a badass and you’re literally gorgeous/handsome af so lot of other people simp over you too

- secretly gets jealous 💀

- like he’s the only one allowed to simp over you ok?? 🙄

- he’s such a nerd he knows exactly how your abilities work

- He’s memorized every single move you can make with your devil fruit

- He also goes into like certain phases where he analyzes every single strong point of your abilities 😭

- He’ll make full on graphs and charts of your powers it’s kind of a lot-

- He wishes he could tell someone about it but then that’d ruin his “I’m emo go away” vibe 💀

- I think he’d do anything just to be able to meet you at least once 🥺

- Like yeah- you’re fictional but it doesn’t matter

- You’re still his #1 fav character

- he once gave a person death glares every single time he saw him because he heard that he simps over you as well :0

- Man got sooooo irritated with that guy

- he kinda has a superiority complex when it comes to these things

- his insults are just so fucking mean

- “Dumbass.”

- “He has the mental capacity of a piece of shit.”

- “I bet his socks smell like ass.”

- law that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person 💀

- Man’s your number one fan and you might never know it 😭💜

Luffy

- HE IS OBSESSED WITH YOU

- he’s got those like- stickers on his water bottle of you

- not afraid to rant about how fucking amazing you are to non-anime fans

- doesn’t matter, people need to hear how gorgeous/handsome and how powerful you are

- on discord his pfp is u 🥺

- His abt me matches one of your quotes

- If he’s feeling down? He watches one piece episodes with you in them :)

- you literally make him so happy and hyped up

- Whenever you fight someone, he’s literally jumping up and down, mimicking your movements (pls I’m abt to die ok 😭)

- You use one of your moves?? *Tries to do the same move*

- *Breaks the window*

- “Oops- hehe-“ 💀

- He aspires to be as strong as you

- That’s his main motivation for working out!!!

- 😭💜 pls he’s such a fanboy-

- he started one piece because of you

- If he’s feeling down? He’ll just watch some clips of you and instantly go back to his extremely meat motivated hyper self

- he can’t even think of any other character except for you

- He’s always like: when’s y/n gonna come back :(

- then when you come on screen: HI Y/N AAAAAAAAA

- he eats meat as he’s watching op btw lmao 😭

- lowkey he doesn’t mind if someone else simps for you

- He knows that you’re so fucking awesome so other people will simp for u as well 🗿

- still tho. Obviously he’s the best choice out of your whole simp fan club 🙄

- man might drop his meat if he meets you sometime

- he wants to fight you so bad to show you how strong he’s gotten 🥺

- pls fight him

- you’ll make his world 10x better 🥹✨

Kid

- he’s all like: they’re fucking fictional why would I simp for the-

- … *looks at you*

- “fuck.” -kid 2022

- man just got a crush in 2 seconds within seeing you 💀

- you literally manipulate blood and use a badass scythe

- who tf wouldn’t love you 🙄

- bro like, your nickname is literally ‘the crimson reaper’

- … (yes I made that up and yes I know that it’s kinda cheesy just go with it pls 😭)

- man loves you bec you manipulate red blood (hehe color of his hair)

- wow I’m corny today

- whenever you win a fight (you always do 🫡) he gets up and just starts like throwing his fists up (kid you’re not at a sports game 💀)

- “LET’S FUCKING GO! FUCKIN DUMBASS THOUGHT YOU COULD BEAT Y/N! FUCKIN’-“

- prepare for everyone to hear random cussing at his tv or phone

- killer is concerned af

- kid tried to get Killer to simp for you too but it didn’t go that well

- Kid then realized he wanted you all to himself so then he stopped talking bout you in front of killer

- no one at school knows that he has the biggest fucking fictional crush in the history of anime crushes

- like he’ll literally turn red everytime he thinks abt you 😭

- He’s like tryna go to sleep at 2am and then gets hit with a shower thought

- “If y/n was left handed would that change the fighting style?!”

- kid. go to sleep 🗿

- man spent all night thinking about that

- HE MADE YOUR SCYTHE FROM SCRATCH AND SHOWED IT OFF TO EVERYONE

- yes it’s made out of real metal ✨

- he made your outfit, scythe, weapons, you name it

- you wear it? He’s made it

- I mean he doesn’t wear it- but he threatens his neighbors with his scythe if they don’t leave him alone

- “Uh is this Eustass Kid’s home? I was just here to inform you about these new solar panel types that are 10x more efficient than the ones you have right now-“

- *holds scythe menacingly* “get the fuck out of here I’m fuckin busy.”

- man hates these solicitors 🙄 (as do I- I had to tell one off today 🗿)

- the poor marketer sprinted as fast as he could 😭

- if someone interrupts his one piece watching time, especially if you’re on screen..

- hell nah they’re dead in literal seconds

- He will literally- yeah Idek what atrocious ways he’ll use to kill them

- moral: don’t solicit at kid’s house. Don’t interrupt y/n one piece screen time. do not simp for y/n only Kid’s allowed to 🙄

- man. kid you’re high maintenance ngl

- he loves you tho 💜

a/n - pls. why did that stupid solar panel guy have to stay and talk to me for 20 minutes 💀

<3

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

What I love about the gender and sexual diversity in Juno Steel isn’t just that diverse characters exist. It’s that they live in a world where their existence is taken for granted.

So many science fiction stories make diversity A Thing, even if it’s a really small and subtle Thing, and I hate it. I’m tired of it. I’m sick of far-flung futures where people live in space and have amazing technology but culture is still massively cisheteronormative, and I’m even more sick of worlds where authors try to make it so culture isn’t massively cisheteronormative but don’t lay their social groundwork so somehow make it even more of A Thing, revealing their own biases.

Juno Steel doesn’t do that. Not only are characters who aren’t cis or heterosexual everywhere, there’s no underlying assumption that they should be cis or heterosexual. Juno’s a he/him lady and at no point is this any kind of problem for anyone. In the whole series I can think of two people misgendering him (because they just met him and, like anyone when meeting a new person, go on apparent physical and social cues) and in both cases the correction just isn’t A Thing. Early in the series, he’s fighting a random thug, who tells him to “fight like a gentleman”, and he responds with ‘I’m not a gentleman, I’m a lady’ as fighting banter, and it’s treated exactly the same as if someone had called him a dumb blonde and he’d whipped a wig off and said, “actually, I’m a brunette” -- it’s not A Thing. It’s just meaningless fighting banter and they move on.

The second time, he’s at a party, undercover with his boyfriend. The hostess gets into a discussion with said boyfriend about Juno, who’s wearing a very eye-catching golden dress and very much playing up being a lady, and refers to hims as ‘she’, and his boyfriend does NOT do that stupid fucking thing that cis people always do and stop the conversation to be like “AcTuAlLy, my love’s *preferred pronouns* are -- ”, he just continues the conversation calling Juno ‘he’, and the hostess proceeds to do the same (without doing the even more stupid fucking thing of stopping the conversation to apologise, which is obnoxious and The Worst). It’s just Not A Thing.

Said hostess of the party is also trans, and until the party, had presented as a man with the world’s most eye-catching haircut (she’s a rich eccentric). At the party, nobody recognises her until she reveals her identity, not because of her gender presentation, but because she had a haircut. (It’s also a running joke in the series that sometimes someone will mention an old Earth custom that nobody else has ever heard of, like the one character on Mars who celebrates Christmas. This hostess, who has a Russian surname, changes it to the feminine form of the surname as Russians do, and explains it’s an ‘old earth custom’, which confuses the hell out of everyone -- it must get pretty complicated, changing your surname every time you get a haircut.) Her gender is just straightup Not A Thing.

Very early in the series, we meet a celebrity crime family who make a living off crime and reality TV. Imagine if the Kardashians also ran the mafia, and owned a major TV channel and several prisons and mental health facilities where they were allowed to market footage of the people inside for entertainment, privacy laws just not being a thing (or a thing they have circumvented through exploitative contracts). Everything about these people is big and over-the-top they’re terrible on purpose and if somebody dies then that’s great for ratings.

Two of these are Cassandra and her twin brother Cecil. It’s very heavily implied through the story that the pair are identical twins, and given that their voice actor’s voice is definitely not affected by testosterone, reasonable to assume that Cecil is a trans man. We can’t be sure, though, because that never comes up in the plot. Cecil has an underground torture dungeon where he films a twisted quiz show, once got himself kidnapped by gangsters on purpose for TV ratings, lost his arm in the rescue and now has a cool robot arm. Absolutely everything about him is played up and out-there and over the top for those delicious reality TV viewers. At no point is him being trans ever mentioned, even in passing. It’s not part of his persona because it’s just not interesting or unusual. It isn’t A Thing.

The agender characters aren’t A Thing. They’re just there. The gay and bisexual characters aren’t A Thing. They’re just there. Most of what we know about the sexuality of anyone is speculation based on their dating history; nobody ever comes out to anyone because there’s no need to, there’s no assumption of heterosexuality so the lack of heterosexuality isn’t a surprise. Juno can kiss Peter in one episode and Alessandra a couple of episodes later and doesn’t have to explain to anyone that he’s bisexual. Alessandra can have a fling with Juno and then get engaged and there’s no assumption that her fiance is a man, or surprise that she’s a woman.

Only twice in the series does anyone explicitly state romantic or sexual preferences -- Rita, in a strip club, is asked whether she wants the company of a man or a woman and says “just give me whatever”. (This is a reasonable question to explicitly ask in a strip club.) And Jet, in conversation, once mentions not having romantic or sexual feelings for anybody -- this isn’t explained because HEY LOOK EVERYONE ASEXUALITY AND AROMANTICISM IS A THING, LOOK AT OUR DIVERSITY, WE HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT THERE’S AN ACE GUY HERE. It’s explained because Jet overexplains and overspecifies everything. It’s a core character trait of his, and his sexuality is neither exempt from this nor given special treatment, because it isn’t A Thing.

I’m tired of stories with space travel that unconsciously reflect our own cisheteronormativity no matter how socially advanced they try to be, in the same way that I’m tired of stories with dragons in them that unconsciously reflect our own misogyny no matter how gender equal they claim to be. It’s just nice to see someone get it right occasionally.

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

Okay, but ‘Erase Me’ hits different after the newest episode (lyrics in bold, discussion/analysis in normal text)

What was our home

“Home” it’s an odd word for the sides. Especially with the recent episodes. With tension flowing between all of them with ease, it’s hard to question if they can truly find comfort in on another. Easily represented by none of the sides (other than Logan and Remus) being there throughout Thomas’ day. This isn’t like the other episodes where they’re all having a discussion together about Thomas getting overwhelmed. 

Instead, Thomas feels isolated for most of it, fighting a battle with his mind (mind referring to his intrusive thoughts, his sides, and Logan’s agenda for the day)

Paper not stone

Everything seemed to... change so quickly. They went from Embarrassing Phases with cute Halloween costumes and friendly jokes about cringe and vine directly into SvS and DWIT where Thomas questions if he’s a good person while his mental health quickly declines.

In a similar way, paper is fragile and flimsy, easily ripped apart.

‘Paper not stone’ could also be a way to reference Logan’s agenda for the day. All of it can be discarded and saved for Future Thomas™ since none of it is really set in stone.

A lean-to at most

Logan is nothing to Thomas- or at least he feels that way. He’s only someone who can calm Thomas down. Thomas can ‘lean’ on him, but that’s the most he is.

And when you pulled your half away

I’d like to think half has a few different meanings here. The one I like the most is where “half” represents Thomas’ attention. He’s pulled to Nico, he’s pulled to Remus, he’s pulled to anxiety. 

Logan recognizes this and calms him down. He lets him have breaks and gently guides Thomas back to their schedule once he’s a bit better.

Half could also represent for when he pulls away from Logan and listens to the other sides more. In this episode, he practically listens to everyone but Logan, despite him being the most physically there. He’s listening to his spiraling intrusive thoughts (Virgil’s fear and Remus’ role). He’s listening to his worry about Nico’s feelings for him (Virgil’s fear and Roman’s passion). He’s taking breaks and indulging in what he loves (Janus’ role and Patton’s enjoyment in child-like activities such as disney princess puzzles and dancing to up-beat music)

He might be the side the camera follows around, but he certainly isn’t the main character by far.

Gravity won Like it always does

Logan isn’t winning this battle. Of course he isn’t. He never does. Thomas is pulled down by the figurative gravity of all the other sides, while Logan is left there alone. 

In theory, he grounds Thomas the most, but Thomas also naturally drifts away from him. Using his role as logic for quick comfort before listening to someone else for an actual discussion.

Did I weigh a ton?

Is he weighing Thomas down? Is he making him unhappy? He thought he was good at one point, helping Thomas earn a degree in college and organizing a schedule for him so he could live life comfortably.

Yet the degree is tilted on the wall. The schedule would have been torn up if Thomas was given a paper. 

Would it be easier to just delete Our pages and the plans we made?

Would it be easier for Logan to give up? He certainly isn’t needed, Thomas didn’t listen to Logan the whole day and he was still fine. He made pages of things Thomas needed to do along with the plans that Thomas agreed to. Only for them to be pushed to the side since something grabbed his attention. 

And perhaps Logan saves these plans. He keeps them to help Thomas. Maybe to even create more realistic ones. But perhaps Thomas just won’t listen to him. He should just delete the plans he has. Thomas has always been great at improv. Maybe someone like Roman should take control- he’s been listening to him more than Logan anyway. (Represented through the whole Nico situation)

Erase me So you don't have to face me

Thomas turns away from Logan at the end, leaving him alone in the living room. He’s erasing Logan from his mind, finding an opportunity he wants because he doesn’t need Logan. 

Put me in the ground and mow the daisies

Was mowing the lawn on the list of things Thomas needed to do? Nope. Is Thomas mowing over his ideas for something more exciting anyway? Yep.

Ah, the memory, see how it goes When you

Erase me Erase me

“The memory” is Logan. It represents how he was aware of his own outburst at Remus, he knows he lost control. But maybe he’ll also ‘see how it goes’ when Thomas starts ignoring him even more. Perhaps his eyes will stay orange. Perhaps Orange will just take his place entirely. 

So what will you do With no me for you?

Thomas needs him- right? I mean, there’s no one else to create the schedules and plans... that Thomas doesn’t use. He helped earn Thomas’ degree! The... the degree he doesn’t use. 

Maybe Logan is useless. Maybe Thomas can’t function without him. Logan doesn’t even want to know at this point.

I know what we said

Logan knows he technically agreed to Thomas leaving and going to Nico, but he can’t help but feel bitter about it.

This bitterness rises when he’s with the other sides. Roman disregards him, “You’ll be fine, Rome didn’t fall in a day.” Logan hasn’t been ignored for more than one day. He isn’t fine. He’s more than what he’s acknowledged as, he quickly responds with emotion filling his mind, “Well, that’s a misquote so-”

Only to get fucking cut off. Again. He isn’t fine. He’s getting ignored and cut off whenever he tries to input something. Then Patton takes control of the conversation. Directing it at Thomas instead of Logan. Taking Roman’s side. Not listening to logic.

But what if I left a thing or two

Logan just needs to stop. He needs to stop talking, leave a plan or two in Thomas’ mind while a side or two keeps him busy for the day. 

We know that you don't seem To think about what you need 'Til you reach to find that you've

Erased me

Imagine telling someone that you really want to do something with them. You both clear out the whole day at an agreed time. Then they want to do something else. You- you suppose it’s fine? You both go there and then you get side-tracked again, and again, and- the day is over. 

They don’t care about what they were supposed to do. Thomas didn’t care about what he was supposed to do. Most of the things he was supposed to do didn’t even directly benefit Logan. They were things he needed to function, things to keep his place nice, not reading a non-fiction book or watching a documentary. They were things Thomas needed. But apparently that wasn’t a good enough reason to listen to logic. 

What the fuck is this? You're crazy, turned around  

Logan is fed up with how Thomas keeps ignoring him. Keeps getting distracted. “Turned around” turned around from the task at hand. 

“What the fuck is this?” could be to Remus. Constantly bothering Thomas, getting him distracted over and over. Going the complete opposite direction of where they should be going. And not listening to him when talked to about it. 

In two weeks time replaced me

Thomas doesn’t need Logan. It’s clear from his daily routine. All he needs is someone to offer the idea of dancing or a puzzle to him and he’s fine again. 

Ah, the memory everybody knows How it goes you just

Erase me

Logan is well-known throughout the mindscape. He’s known as a nerd, a geek, a nobody. Most of the names he could wear with pride, but he’s nobody. Nobody to Thomas and nobody in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps the other sides would be fine with Logan getting “erased.” They seem to regard his name with distaste anyway.

Did me like a bro and tazed me

Logan makes little flashcards for slang and tries to use them. Almost like a child proudly showing a high test score to their parent. He wants so badly to be acknowledged, to be heard, to be cool. 

Fireworks - poof - it's gone, amazing

Thomas is gone. The fireworks went off in his heart and he’s gone. Logan- Logan should be happy for him. It’s amazing as some would call it. He holds the to-do list to his chest as he sinks out. 

New bio, you've gone solo Drawing mustaches on our wedding photo

Nothing is important, not really. It can all be quickly discarded. “New bio” could be talking to Nico and changing a social media bio to dating or something like that.

“You’ve gone solo.” Haha that’s funny. Thomas is practically anything but solo with Logan. The line is said with such anger and bitterness that it’s no wonder why he thinks he means nothing to Thomas.

“Drawing mustaches on our wedding photo” What else is Remus going to ruin for Logan? Drawing on Thomas’ degree with mustaches?

Erase me Erase me Erase me...

Erase me This is us shouting, baby Erase me

Logan is begging, screaming, shouting for someone to acknowledge that he’s being ignored. But he’s being ignored, so they don’t hear him. Of course they don’t hear him.

Do we call the cops now, baby?

Cops is Orange. Take this as you will.

Ah, the memory everybody knows About the brand new home

There’s no distress in this line. Everyone is fine about the idea of Logan leaving to go into a new ‘home.’ He wasn’t important, so why would they worry? Thomas clearly didn’t seem to worry as he ran out of the house, searching for Nico. Thomas didn’t need him in the slightest.

Erase me And you'll never have to face me

Erase something off the to-do list. Erase the signature on the degree. Erase him.

Erase me Option-Command-Escape me And if you feel nothing Guess what I'll wanna be

Huh, I wonder what he wants to be :)

[lvlyhao]

『127′s ideal type』

headcanons, NCT 127

A/N: je suis back~ in these headcanons i talk about the type of person i imagine each member with, along with some of the traits i think they wouldn’t be too fond of. i did NOT include physical traits (ex: “would like a short/tall/blonde s/o”) because i really don’t know them??? lmao also that kind of thing could be a bit damaging to someone’s self esteem, and i want yall to know ur perfect & beautiful so

mark and hyuck will be included in dream’s version of this, and sicheng will be in wayv’s :)

today’s gif theme is just random gifs i like bc idc, there’s no aesthetic

as always, this is gender-neutral

IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG IT AS WELL AS LIKING IT T^T

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡) and if you squint really hard angst (❆) bc of some REALLY small things that for me are not actual angst but oh well

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i think none?? if you read this and find something you think should be here let me know please!!!

word count: 1.5K

pairing: nct 127 members x reader (includes taeil, taeyong, johnny, yuta, doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Taeil

I see Taeil getting with someone who’s not only mature (personality-wise, actual age doesn’t matter) but also very determined and decisive. He’d like a person that doesn’t change their mind about things too often, learns well from their mistakes and is just all-around balanced. Other traits that I think he’d look for: politeness, a MUST; grounded; good at giving advice. Pretty much a twin-flame of his.

I think he’d find it cute if they think in a detail-oriented way and appreciate the small things in life. A positive, grateful mentality would be SO attractive to him, I swear. 

One of his deal breakers would most likely be excessive jealousy and possessiveness. He trusts you and your love for him, and I think he’d feel distraught if you were constantly questioning the relationships he has with other people (friends, co-workers, fans, etc.)

Last important thing: needs a person that can take a hit. He’s probably looking for someone he can spend the rest of his days with, so a quitter just isn’t good for that. There will be difficult moments in the future and he needs to know they won’t give up on him and on the life he chose.

Taeyong

I think Taeyong would like a calm person that knows how to take control of the relationship. He probably feels tired sometimes from leading a group of 23 people, so I can imagine he’d be thrilled if he was able to not worry at all when he’s around his partner. He trusts they’re capable of dealing with any problems that may arise and keep their feet on the ground. Bonus points if they have a good relationship with themselves.

By that I mean: you know how people say you can’t truly love others until you love yourself? Yeah, that. He’s a person like any other, and there are times when he struggles with self-love, but he needs someone that doesn’t hate themselves, or he’ll simply go crazy. With his career come so many rumours and moments that tear at his confidence… he just doesn’t need a person that has to be convinced every single day that they’re worthy of the good things in life. 

I’d say, in general, all he asks for is someone that can watch out for themselves. He’d take care of them too, but he’d like it SO much if just for once in his life he’s the one being cared for. Would just melt on the spot if you have that caring, almost parental instinct in you. Gods, yes. That’s all I can say.

Johnny

I can see him being with a very bright, smart person. He’d like someone that comes from a different background so he could learn more about their life—whether that means the country they were born in or their field of work. I think he would appreciate a very laid back person that doesn’t get stressed too often and won’t make fun of him for his bad jokes. Also, doesn’t like people that try to play him. Honesty above all.

He’d like it if they are super curious and creative, too. Picking up new hobbies and interests is something he’d be up to anytime, and it doesn’t matter what it is either. He’d give anything a try—from knitting to marine biology, no questions asked.

Something he’d dislike is if the person is too materialistic. It’s not like he’s a completely spiritual being and lives with 0 detachments to objects but he’s a firm believer in what Antoine de Saint-Exupéry said: what is essential is invisible to the eye. And, you know, what you truly find essential is up to you; it can mean family, friends, love, hope, all of that… he just wants you to love life itself as much as he does.

Yuta

He’d probably like one of the two drastic variants: a very gentle, sweet person or someone who’s on his level of flirtatiousness and boldness. Wouldn’t mind any, but he needs a strong personality, either way, you know? No blandness here. 

Something very attractive to him is being involved in social issues and caring for the world around you. Very sexc, yes, and also likes people that make others smile.

Something that would make him quite literally give up on someone is the excessive fear of change, or just the will to remain in their comfort zone at all costs. He earns for a person that wants to live life to its fullest. If not they’re not ride-or-die to that level, then he hopes they at least accompany and support him in all of the things he wants to do. 

One thing that is very tied to that is his dislike for know-it-alls. He lives in such a diverse scenario that it’s just dumb for him to think someone would ever be capable of knowing every piece of information on everything that’s out there. He’s fine with people making mistakes, but if they can’t admit to that or admit they don’t know something he just gets pissed off. So, yeah, he’d avoid stuck-ups.

Doyoung

He’d like someone very loyal and fair, who treats people with respect but calls them out if they ever have to. I think he’d prefer a person that is naturally a deep thinker and wouldn’t lose their mind over small disagreements. 

Much like Johnny, he likes that intellectual side of yours, and when I say that I don’t mean like “ah, he’d want to date a math genius” or something. No, no. I’m referring to all types of intellectuality and intelligence. The thing for him is simply using your brain and being proud of it. He would just dislike a person that kind of lives life on autopilot, you know?

He’d like it if they’re interested or professionally involved with music somehow and would consider their opinions in his career. He wouldn’t mind if their taste is hugely different from his, though. It’s alright if pop music is not your favourite or if you have no idea who EXO is (lol). All he wants is to see the world through your eyes too, in all aspects of life including this one.

Will also love you forever if you side with him when he’s being teased by the others, because, c’mon, it’s always 22 people against poor, defenceless Doyoung. Please don’t join them, he’s begging you—

Jaehyun

This is very, very clear to me but he needs to be with an independent person. He’s quite sentimental and he has his more romantic moments, sure, but he wants someone that can give him the space he needs when he needs it. A person that’s constantly begging him for attention would be way more of a burden than anything else.

Also, he’s 100% alright with someone that has a very explicit and loud love language (like saying “I love you” 300 times a day) but he’s not like that, and he needs them to see that. Jaehyun could NOT be with a person that doesn’t appreciate the love he shows in the little things, like making coffee in the morning, and if they ever question the way he feels… yeah, not good. He’d feel misunderstood and that’s a big no-no.

He’d find it cute if they’re bubbly or just very youthful but is also capable of falling for an old soul that shares his interests in things like classical music and vinyls. I don’t think he’d ever get with someone that's kind of a tech addict, though, idk why but that’s quite clear to me. Always being on your phone or caring too much about social media would probably make him feel like you’re not grateful for the things you have around you, in real life. So, yeah, not attractive, bestie.

Jungwoo

Jungwoo is a very, very, very sweet person and he needs someone who’s also like that. He wouldn’t care if that’s there for everyone to see, in the sense that they’re not shy about it, or if it’s a part of them that only a couple of close people know. As long as it’s there, he’s happy.

Aside from that, I think he’s fully capable of falling in love with quite literally anyone. He can see the beauty in all types of people, from all places, backgrounds, races, and just—anyone. He’s just so full of love for people, ah I can’t even. He’s too good for this world.

Some things that could, however, push him away from getting to know someone: a negative way of thinking, being too traditionalistic, and too much scepticism. He’s fine with people that like to honour the past and their roots but like, you’ve gotta keep up with the world you live in and accept that things change. I think that’s very tied to how much he likes defying masculine standards, too. 

The scepticism thing is quite simple: he can handle teasing just fine but if they’re constantly making fun of him for wearing his heart on his sleeve or being a bit goofy, he’d feel kind of betrayed.

---

final notes: this is the 3rd nct work i’m posting here and i’m already writing more, so i think it’s time i set up a masterlist, a fic rec blog and a tag list. if you want to be tagged in my future fics, let me know (dm, comments, anything) :)

[jamaiskookie]

meet me in your memories (knj)

✂︎ pairing: memory traveller namjoon x gender neutral reader

✂︎ wc: 11.8k

✂︎ TW// car crash, mentions of death, crying, mental health, mental breakdowns, spoilers for frozen 1?? um, vomiting, mentions of PTSD, three seconds of family drama, memory loss

✂︎ notes: a little gift from me for being away so long <3 luv yall also ignore how short and shitty this is!!! ignore it!!!!! 

✂︎ synopsis: namjoon is a memory traveller - he is thrusted back and forth into his world and the world of his memories, forced to re-enact his past experiences. but he doesn’t recognise you, who keeps showing up in his memories. why doesn’t he remember you? why can’t he recall any of these scenes if they’re supposed to be his memories? and why does it always feel like he’s forgetting something? 

he comes to find out that he would choose you over and over again, in whatever lifetime or world he’s in. because he always returns to you. 

✂︎ fic tunes: "eight"- iu (prod. & feat. suga) but you're at your favorite secret spot after a long day by neptjoon

masterlist asks

The road is slippery and Namjoon cranes his head out to look at the window. Rain splattering everywhere, he notes worriedly. He hopes that nobody crashes. The bus driver sitting about three meters in front of him is humming a melody to a song he doesn’t know nor recognise. While listening to the poor man hum the off beat tune, Namjoon sits in silence, wondering how sad it must be to drive a bus with no passengers but himself. 

Suddenly, his stomach drops and his head spins, and this time Namjoon is certain it’s not from the rain or the driver’s subpar driving. He lurches forward, watching as the rain knocks against the window and falls in thick ribbons. 

Click. 

In an instant, Namjoon’s world collapses around him and he is thrown into his mind. 

Seoul is sweltering hot - hot like he’s never felt before. Namjoon reaches up to clutch his head, which is still spinning, and finds himself standing in a pair of light washed baggy jeans and a sleeveless tee shirt, unlike the padding coat and thick boots he had on just a moment ago. 

“Namjoon!” Someone squeals behind him and his heart jumps. He jumps around, facing you and the view of hot street food stalls and tall buildings behind you. Suddenly, his hand is reaching out to grab onto yours and you smile softly. 

He hears his own voice ring out, clear as day: “Don’t run. I was looking for you.” 

“Psh.” You wave off his concern, handing him a shiny golden hotteok. You hold an identical one in your fist, so he accepts it and murmurs his thanks, tearing apart the pancake and stuffing it into his mouth. Sweet, hot honey and small pieces of walnut flood into his mouth, and Namjoon is momentarily surprised. Science states that you cannot taste or physically feel anything in your dreams. 

But Namjoon already proved that wrong long ago. 

He takes you by hand and drags you over to a shelter, for some rest, apparently uninterested in your cries of wanting more tteokbokki or some Chinese food. He flings you over to his side and places his hand over your shoulder, while you both silently devour your hotteoks. 

“This was a nice date.” You mumble tentatively, and oh. That’s what this is? A date? He wants to turn around and ask you for your name. Where are you from? Why am I here again? He wants to scream it out until his lungs hurt and he gets an answer that makes sense, but no matter how much he tries, his throat will not allow those words to tumble out of his lips.  

Why don’t I remember you?

Instead, he replies: “Yeah, it was. This was fun.” He tilts his head down to smile at you and Namjoon finds himself nervous. Nervous enough that his hands are shaking against his will, but he tells himself that the sweat and the nervousness are all side effects of the swampy heat this summer. 

You beam at him and Namjoon thinks you’re an angel. You lean up onto his chest to place a soft kiss onto his lips and Namjoon thinks about when he’s going to be thrown back out of his head. 

“Wanna go home?” He asks, nudging at the sky, which is already filled up with first streaks of the sunset. Purple hues and pinks and blues that all blend together nicely. You watch the sky for a moment.

“Never.” You offer no explanation after that and Namjoon doesn’t pry. He feels like he understands you, which is scarier than any other encounter he’s faced, in real life and in here. You stare up at him more intensely, and a shudder of fear runs down Namjoon’s back. “I just want to stay here forever,” You enunciate, like you want him to remember this. “Just Y/N and Namjoon.” 

Something tugs in his chest and Namjoon screams in his head, no. Longer. Not now. He slips away, gone, disappeared from the world before he can even tell you how pretty your name is. And he awakens back at the bus, where the driver is shaking him and yelling at him to get out. 

Namjoon walks home in the rain, yelling out your name in happiness until his neighbours come over politely asking him to shut the fuck up. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… Y/N?” He keeps repeating the name over and over again, enough to make Seokjin annoyed, who has moved away from Namjoon’s desk to the sofa in his office just to escape the random spiel that Namjoon is hurriedly rushing through. 

“I can’t find a single Y/N in here!” Namjoon cries frustratingly, and the corners of Seokjin’s eyes soften in something that is either pity or empathy. He discards his non-fiction novel about drag queens and wigs to come over and clap a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. 

“My friend, my crazy, idiotic, slightly insane friend.” Seokjin bends down. “You’ve checked all your yearbooks, social media, archives, newspapers… Have you perhaps considered that this person wasn’t that important? Just a passing stranger?”

“No.” Namjoon shoots down stubbornly. “They appear far too often for them not to be important.” So Seokjin shrugs, leaving Namjoon to, once again, search through the Facebook friends of a friend of a friend of a friend. 

But no Y/N’s pop up, and he’s wondering if Y/N was just a nickname. Was it even your real name? With a sigh and one single (rather impressive) agitated brow wave, he lets go and spills. He tells Seokjin about how he finally learned your name, about the places you’ve been together and how much you adore street food. 

He appreciates Seokjin for being a good friend, for sitting there and not interrupting to call him a crazy person, even if he is most certainly thinking about it in his head. Because Seokjin, at least, knows about a miniscule part of Namjoon’s tragic life. He doesn’t understand, but he gets it, and that’s all Namjoon needs in a friend. 

He doesn’t tell Seokjin about how soft and pillowy your lips feel against his, he doesn’t tell you how much he longs to do unspeakable things to you when you show up in those blue short shorts. He definitely doesn’t tell him how much he loves your name. 

Seokjin suggests a number of things. That perhaps you are a character from long ago, or maybe a passing stranger Namjoon once had a summer fling with. You may be someone long forgotten like a mutual friend in high school or college. He also suggests a psychiatric hospital to screw his head back on (as a joke, Namjoon’s pretty sure.) 

But none of those seem right. Namjoon does his best to explain, he really does. For an award winning journalist and aspiring writer, he does just about a terrible job of trying to string his words together. Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose and falls back onto the sofa, already spacing out. Namjoon weakly cries out that he knows you. He really does - he just doesn’t remember how, or why. 

Like a puzzle with a few missing pieces. 

He wonders when and if the missing pieces will ever make their way over to him. 

Namjoon gives up and flops down onto the sofa next to Jin, who squeaks out various protests about how heavy he is and how stupidly huge his arms have gotten after he started working out, along the lines of comparing him to Jungkook and calling him a gym rat. 

As usual, Namjoon doesn’t listen. 

It’s difficult to explain the feeling of falling to someone who hasn’t experienced it. The cursed Click echoes out and suddenly, the world spins around, the axis breaks and he’s physically thrown into another time, another place… another memory that he can’t seem to recall. His stomach lurches, his head hurts and there’s a small breeze flowing in. 

For a short moment, the loops of space and time are completely open to him. He can’t see it, but he can feel it. It flips his mind completely upside down and boom. He’s in a specific, random time and place. His body feels light, and every step he takes, he can physically feel it: He doesn’t belong here. He isn’t supposed to be here. Everything feels different. Even the air is more smoky, because something in this world is suddenly wrong, and it’s him. 

The next time he meets you, he is in just about the worst place to fall. Sitting in a press conference, his stomach drops and he’s dreading the fall. Namjoon can already hear his boss screaming at him, and he desperately tries to root himself to his seat, typing whatever the assemblyman is yapping on and on about. About farming and agriculture and tax cuts… 

Click. 

He can distantly hear the assemblyman candidate talk about corrupt government workers as he’s thrusted out of his world and into another. 

The memory he has the pleasure to be in this time is something not too unfamiliar. For a second, he thinks if this is just a normal day of him in his cramped, tiny city apartment. Until he turns around and realises you’re lying right next to him, sound asleep and nuzzling into the side of his neck. 

The air is crisp. It’s spring, not winter anymore, and he can hear the flower petals outside his apartment complex falling lightly on the ground. This, Namjoon thinks, may just be the best memory he’s been in. The press conference and his life and his boss slips his mind and he cradles you in his chest, holding you closer and closing his eyes shut. 

“Mm?” You mumble, half asleep. “You’re suffocating me.” You hoarsely call out, and Namjoon releases you with an insincere apology. He brushes the hair out of your hair and grins, framing you in his head. He reaches to his alarm clock, which is right next to his bed as it always is to check the time. 

April 1st, 2017. 

Oh god, Namjoon winces. This means he still has that god awful haircut right now. He reaches up to feel his head, and sure enough, the horrible slicked back bleached hair is still there, an unfortunate result of his friend Hoseok daring him to drunk dye his hair. 

“You’re awake?” He asks you, and you nod slowly. 

He wonders if this memory precedes or follows the one he had with you last time, and he desperately hopes things are going in chronological order. He wants to know you just as much as you know him. Namjoon naively prays to whatever deity that controls his dreamworld: Please follow things step by step, follow the clock. 

You roll around, saying something he can’t really catch. He asks you what you said and for the first time today, you peel open your eyes directly facing him. Namjoon’s heart almost falls out of his ass, seeing your eyes bore into his own. 

“Where’s my morning kiss?” You ask cutely, nudging his nose with your own button nose. 

“Right here.” He finds himself saying, leaning in to close the inches in between your two faces. You taste like hotteok, even early in the morning. You taste like a spring day and a never ending forever. As your lips capture his and his everything is consumed by thoughts of you, Namjoon begs himself to kiss you harder. 

His past self declines politely, and Namjoon thinks about whether this counts as himself being controlled if he himself is still controlling what he says and does. 

In that moment, listening to your slow breathing and someone across the street playing simple, melodic piano chords, Namjoon tells himself: Do not ever forget April 1st, 2017. You rise from the bed and some form of protest bubbles up from Namjoon’s mouth, to which you just laugh and drag him out of bed with the excuse of wanting breakfast. 

You push him into the bathroom, where he expects to meet his sad single grey towel and foggy mirror. You push him in front, and he cringes at the sight of his hair in the mirror. You sigh. 

“Calm down. The blonde looks sexy. You can dye it back black later.” He laughs, because it’s clearly not very sexy. For once, his past self is doing exactly what the current Namjoon is pleading him to do. Does it count as reliving your memories if someone else was living through them originally? But, he reminds himself while you hand him a green toothbrush and squeeze a dollop of toothpaste on both your toothbrushes, this is him. He lived through this once and he is just taking a trip down memory lane. 

The person who lived through this before was him. 

He has to remind himself many more times before it sinks in. 

You brush your teeth next to him, fluffing your hair and squinting in the mirror to wake yourself up. Without a second of hesitation, Namjoon brings the toothbrush up and starts to brush his teeth. Nothing has ever felt more domestic or right than this, despite the tentative steps and heavy lead feeling in his throat telling him he still isn’t supposed to be here. 

You spit out toothpaste in the sink to gargle your mouth and Namjoon mimics you exactly. Somehow, you find yourselves in the kitchen, giggling while making some sort of french toast with an abundance of cinnamon floating through the air. Which makes Namjoon cough and makes you laugh even harder. 

“This is a perfect morning.” You say, peering out the window to watch the city life slowly bustling to life. People scrambling out their doors, ushering their children or pets with them. People you don’t recognise going on walks or runs. Mailmen and delivery people dropping off packages and people yelling into their phones as they hurriedly walk along the sidewalk. 

And you and Namjoon, calmly staying in your pajamas while frying toast on the pan. 

“Is something burning?” You ask, sniffing the air, and Namjoon’s blood runs cold. 

“Oh, shit!” 

You smile and shake your head while Namjoon attempts to save the blackened piece of bread to no avail. He catches sight of the corners of your mouth lifting, even as you chastise him about watching the stove and ranting on about how you’re never going to trust him in the kitchen again. Namjoon watches your pink lips, stained with a brown mudge of cinnamon french toast mixture, which lifts up and your head falls back, hair flowing around your head like a halo. 

Your laugh plays out in front of him in slow motion, and absentmindedly, he thanks that deity he prayed to for slowing this moment down. Because if there’s anything he yearns most to remember, it’s the way you laugh. A chuckle makes its way out of his own throat as well, and he’s not sure who’s in control at the moment. 

Himself or himself in the past?

Either way, they both did the right thing. Namjoon forgets. He forgets the life he has back home, he forgets Seokjin’s warnings, he forgets that he has at least a hundred articles waiting for him at work to be written. He forgets that this world is nothing but a chance for him to follow the footsteps of what he once did, with no control to say or do anything he wishes to do himself. 

But, oh, he really can’t bring himself to care. 

Those piano chords from before blend together beautifully, and you scrape the black toast into the garbage can, still teasing him relentlessly, and oh. Oh, this is what it means to have a home. You made this junk of a house into a home, and he feels like he has to return here. This is where he’s meant to return to, everyday. Each time. 

You turn around after discarding the toast and with a bright smile, you ask him to kiss you again. Namjoon thinks that he doesn’t ever have the capability to deny you when you smile like that, so he complies and crashes his lips onto yours. 

The lead, heavy feeling in his throat is still weighing him down. Except Namjoon isn’t sure whether it’s weighing him down to this world or the real world.

 The cursed deity pulls him back, pulling him through the time and space back to his own responsibilities and life. His heart is wrenched out and he reaches out, trying to grasp your hand for the last time. He falls back to his own world in a hospital bed and an IV attached to his arm with half a piece of french toast dangling in his mouth and another promise he makes with himself to meet you again with a smile on his face. 

Memories… memories that he’s lived through but can’t remember. Memories he slips into to live momentarily through the actions and words of his old self. 

Somewhere along the line of diving back and forth his own life and this past one, he has forgotten which is which. 

“Most likely due to exhaustion. Lack of sleep, lack of rest. It’s quite common with working young adults, workaholics. I’m putting him on medical leave for the rest of the week. He needs a rest - He needed it yesterday. Don’t worry too much, Mrs. Kim. A long nap and a meal or two will fix him right back up.” Namjoon groggily registers the white walls and beeping noises, the chatter of doctors and nurses rushing around. 

He’s in a hospital, and a rush of fear runs straight through his blood. He sits up to eye his mother, sitting next to him and holding his hand. She shushes him, laying him back down on the bed, but all he can do is panic. 

“No, not here. Not here again.” He mumbles incoherently. His mother puts a hand over his eyes, shushing him again and telling him softly to go back to sleep. He doesn’t want to go to sleep, he wants to get out of here. But his eyelids are already feeling heavy and he weakly fights against his body, but before he can even process it, his eyes are shut and he is asleep. 

Seeing her son close his eyes and drift off to sleep, Mrs. Kim turns back to the doctor. 

“I’m not surprised,” She starts. “He’s always worked himself to the bone. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about his brain.” The doctor cocks his head and looks through the papers which are clipped to a clipboard in his arms. 

“Ah, yes. I see he was in a car accident a few years ago.” Doctors are some of the most heartless people, and you can always tell how experienced a doctor is by how much sympathy they show. This doctor shows none at all, which must mean he’s been working for a long time. 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Kim.” The doctor continues, peering over Namjoon’s sleeping body. “I see he suffered light effects after the accident. Selective amnesia, no external damages to the skull. He didn’t suffer as much. In fact, I believe the doctor in charge believed that the amnesia was mostly due to the shock of the event. But he’s received treatment for PTSD since then, right?” 

Mrs. Kim nods. 

“Good. Doctor Park also noted at the time that his amnesia actually didn’t affect much of his memory. He couldn’t remember distant relatives or kindergarten friends, but that seemed to be the extent of his amnesia. Oh,” The doctor slipped through the clipboard. “He also couldn’t remember certain knowledge about philosophers such as Freud, which he was, quote, ‘devastated over’ un-quote.” 

Mrs. Kim stays silent. 

“So, you don’t have to worry too much. Best thing your son could do for his well being is rest. And a therapist if he has a relapse or shows some symptoms such as sleep difficulties or nightmares, or physical signs like fatigue and nausea.” 

Mrs. Kim nods. “Thank you, doctor.”

That’s it, and she turns back to her son, with her hand in his. She stays there, unmoving until he opens his eyes, mumbling incoherent questions and asking his mother why he is in the hospital again, demanding to be discharged immediately. Her heart breaks a little, small cracks form for her beloved son and she kisses him on the forehead, telling him he’d be out of here in no time. 

“What did you see?” She asks quietly, and Namjoon is surprised. She never asks him about his memory walks. It’s taboo to mention it in his household. Not even his sister is comfortable talking about it. “Anything? At all? You passed out at a rather unfortunate time, I heard.” She continues. 

“Nothing much.” Namjoon replies, lying through his teeth and trying to justify it with the sight of your laugh. He leans back and closes his eyes once more, bringing up his memories of you and your bedhead. He tries to fill the gap inside of him with thoughts of you, as if that can make up for the empty feeling that he’s forgetting something. 

In the hospital, staring at a white ceiling and glaring lights, Namjoon is left to think about what’s happening to his head. During the end of his rather short stay, he comes up with a terrifying conclusion. One that scares him more than he could imagine, but it’s the only one that makes sense. He’s falling in love with you. 

He voices out this concern to Seokjin when he visits after his mother leaves. Seokjin stays silent, mumbling out an apology that feels like the wrong thing to say. The elder boy can only look at his friend with sadness in his eyes, telling him that someone as great as Namjoon shouldn’t be suffering so much pain. Namjoon jokes that a witch must have cursed him when he was born. 

None of the two friends laugh. 

This routine continues on and on, without Namjoon dwelling too much on it. Which is so much unlike Namjoon, whose main personality trait is overthinking about the smallest things. He lets the flow of time and space take him wherever they wish to plop him down. He lets the evil deity toy with his heart and wrench him away whenever you smile the largest. 

It hurts right after he is torn away from you, but he’s filled with so much joy in the moment that he can’t bring himself to do anything else about it. Even if he wanted to do something without it, he has no idea where on earth he might start. 

Sometimes he questions the validity of his memories. What is real, what is fake? He still can’t answer, and this is what he spends most of his time wondering about. The memories he has with you don’t make sense. Those are large gaps in his life that he seems to have no recollection of. 

He goes everywhere with you. 

One day he showed up on November 5th, 2015. 

The next day he jumped to August 23rd, 2017. 

Another time, he was thrown into March 15th, 2016. 

None of it makes sense. Are they not memories? He thinks. There’s no possible way he’s spent this much of his life with you and can’t recall any of it. What is real - the world he spends with you, or the world where he always returns to by default?

And yet, nothing else can explain these short periods of blackouts. Ever since one day in some horrible hospital, he’s gone under and pulled and thrusted into some land where he has no control over his own hands. Everything else makes sense. This world, everything else is accurate from the settings to the props, with one anomaly in his memory. 

A character who goes by the name of Y/N. 

He could go the science-y logic route that he so often frequents, come up with theories that can somewhat explain these periods of time. Theories that include explanations such as hallucinations, or that Seokjin’s right and he’s finally gone crazy. You’re just a figment of his imagination, that this is all in his head and he’s out of his mind. 

But he rejects all those theories when he’s clicked into another memory. Somehow, he just understands. These are memories. These are memories he’s had with you, whether that was in a past life or in some sort of messed up alternate timeline where he’s actually happy. 

Is this a gift or another curse from this stupid deity?

He has too many questions. 

He cannot explain these memories using science, logic, common sense, or even using his own words. But in the moment, while you’re in his arms, he can feel it. He can explain it by describing the way you smell, like pancakes and fresh mint. He can explain it by describing the way you feel, like a warm marshmallow filling up his insides and consuming him. 

It’s cheesy, cringier than Seokjin’s dad jokes, but only he gets it. 

Namjoon is in his living room, switching channels on the TV and thinking about this when his stomach sinks again. He braces himself, and disappears. 

Click.

Seoul is freezing cold. The air is light and he is sitting on a bench on his college campus, rubbing his hands together and zipping up his huge jacket over his sweater. Namjoon shudders, his body not yet used to the bite of the cold compared to the warm breeze he was just enjoying. 

He sniffles, nose slightly red like some knockoff Rudolph and wanders around. His body pulls him to go to the right, despite the warm coffee shop being on the left. He shudders again and tries to protest, but his body won’t listen, standing up and walking over to the right with no particular destination in mind. Students are rushing around, complaining about the cold and talking about their next party or study session. 

Namjoon pulls himself forwards, and thank god this version of himself still has terrible tolerance for the cold, because he reaches up and pulls his beanie down over his ears, still wandering around aimlessly. Where are you going? Namjoon wants to scream out frustratingly. 

His brain doesn’t reply and Namjoon sulks. 

Eventually, he is pulled over to another bench, outside in the cold, and he sits down, deeply resenting himself and wondering why on earth he just stood up from one bench to walk to another one. If anything, it’s colder here. He watches the students that pass by for a minute or two, thinking that this is the most boring memory he’s ever been in. 

There is no snow falling, but almost everything on campus is lined with a sheet of ice or cold steam. Namjoon nuzzles deeper into his own clothes, cursing himself for not being able to go buy another sweater or something to fight the extreme cold. 

Suddenly, you appear in front of him and Namjoon perks up. There you are. He thinks. Finally. You come over and sit down, holding something in your hands. He smiles, waiting for you to speak up and greet him with a kiss that will surely warm him up, but you silently sit next to him, ignoring him. Namjoon urges himself to say something, but instead, he continues to watch the students bustling through campus grounds without looking at you. 

Are we fighting? Is Y/N mad at me? 

This is excruciatingly frustrating, Namjoon bites his tongue and thinks. Why can’t he just say something? Abruptly, something lands on his jacket with a splat and he straightens up, snapping his neck towards you, who is looking at the yogurt splat on his jacket with a look of terror. 

“Oh my gosh!” You squeak out, quickly setting your yogurt aside and reaching for some tissues in your purse. “Oh, god, oh god, I’m so sorry. Please, let me-” Namjoon frowns, taking his hands out of his pockets to thumb at his jacket, debating whether he wants to take it off or not. 

You lean over, pawing at his jacket and wiping the yogurt off of his jacket. “I’m so sorry!” 

“No, don’t worry.” Namjoon says, chuckling. He reaches for another tissue, helping you get the yogurt off of him. “It’s no big deal.” The yogurt is mostly wiped off and you side eye him with the unmistakable look of guilt filling your eyes. Namjoon laughs again. 

“It’s fine, really! No, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m literally so sorry. Do you want me to pay for dry cleaning? Laundry? I can, um, wash it for you! I’m not the best at laundry, but it’s the least I could do?” 

Namjoon briefly wonders why you’re being so polite. 

“No, it’s fine.” The words tumble out his mouth again before he can process it. “Really, this jacket is old, anyway.” Not really, Namjoon thinks. It feels really new. “But who the hell eats cold yogurt in this kind of weather?” He jokes. “You sure you’re not a demon?”

You freeze, terrified before realising he was cracking a joke. “Oh. Hah! Yeah, no, I guess I just really like yogurt.” You offer lamely, and you break out into a small giggle. “Yeah, I guess I kind of am a psycho for eating it right now. It’s freezing today.” 

“God, tell me about it.” Namjoon says, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. 

“Thanks for not going bonkers on me. This jacket looks insanely expensive.” 

“Not really.”

“I’m Y/N.” You greet, holding a hand out for him to shake. I know, Namjoon thinks with a secret smile, but everything makes sense now. You don’t know him yet. To you in this moment in time, he’s just a random stranger who didn’t blow up on you after spraying some yogurt onto you. To him, you’re… you’re… 

“Oh, um, I’m Namjoon.” He says, hurriedly taking a hand out of his pocket to shake your outstretched hand. Your fingers meet and Namjoon swears a small zap just went through his hand. 

“Namjoon. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.” You say with a small smile, yogurt already long forgotten on the bench beside you two. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He says in return, even though he doesn’t mean it. He already knows you, he knows you better than everyone. He knows your favourite food is Korean street food, and you always wake him up with kisses and your favourite colour is periwinkle and you absolutely hate abalone with more passion than he’s ever seen in his entire life.

But this is your first time seeing him, ever, he reminds himself. This is your meet cute. This single moment set off the events in the next god knows how many years. This is the first time he ever had your name grace his tongue. This is the first time you’ve seen him. 

Another moment to treasure. You let go of his hand, after realising you two have been shaking hands for much longer than the socially acceptable rate of hand shaking. Blushing, either from the cold or humiliation, you sit, turn back around, grabbing a hold of your yogurt once more. 

Suddenly, Namjoon finds himself blurting out: “Hey, you wanna go get some coffee?” You look over curiously, pointing to yourself like you can’t believe he’s asking you out, because you don’t know that you’re all he ever thinks about at any given moment in any given day. “You’ll probably freeze your ass off if you keep eating that yogurt.” He jokes, pretending like this is all because he’s caring about how cold you are and not how cute or incredible or kind you are. 

“Sure.” You say, nodding shyly. He stands up, leading you to walk over to the left where the campus coffee shop is. Along the way, you throw the yogurt cup in the trash. 

“You can’t bring food brought from outside into a shop, right?” You ask. 

Namjoon smiles. “Yeah.” He stays there until night takes over the sky and one single twinkling star in the sky is signalling that it’s time to go home. Possibly the longest time he’s ever spent in a memory. He keeps glancing at the clock, praying that he gets one more minute with you, one more second, one more moment. 

At any time, he could be pulled out of this world, and he needs to make the most of it. You tell him about your childhood bedroom and your major. You tell him about the love you have for pancakes, and how much you want a puppy even though it’s prohibited in the on campus dorms. He nods, pretending like this is all new information even though it’s not, and he’s known all of this for the longest time. He knows you better than you know yourself, which he keeps to himself. 

In return, he tells you about his own childhood bedroom, which was adorned with posters of western hip hop rappers. He tells you about his passions for writing and music, that if he didn’t major in journalism, he’d be studying music production in school. He tells you that he’s obsessed with philosophy, and in all honesty, is a bit of a nerd. 

Instead of laughing or pulling a face, you nod and smile, saying that you think he should tell you more about philosophy on a second date. 

You leave the coffee shop with a small goodbye, and even though he desperately wants to, Namjoon can’t kiss you. 

He gets pulled back after you disappear pass the corner of the street, and the world morphes into a huge motion blur. When he gets pulled back into his living room, the TV is playing late night TV shows already. Namjoon checks the time. He was pulled in for five hours, the longest he’s ever been in that world. 

After that, no matter how much more he prays and begs, he never stays any longer than that. 

Three days later, Namjoon suddenly pops into Hong Kong, which is hotter than anything he’s ever felt. The streets are heavy with people, squabbling in cantonese while selling raw meats in a wet market. The sun is glaringly bright, and Namjoon starts to sweat almost instantaneously. Taxis and huge buses drive past, Namjoon jumps to a side only to find a vast ocean. He’s at the harbour front. 

The smell of food, of egg tarts and pineapple buns and meat dumplings along with other Hong Kong delicacies waft through the air, combined with the salty air of the sea. It makes for a strange combination that confuses his senses but works nonetheless. 

He thought he knew a city like Seoul, but this is a true city. This is busy and fast paced like he’s never even seen before. People shove each other aside to catch the bus, dogs are yapping everywhere and he soaks it all in before the thought enters his head.

What the hell is he doing in Hong Kong?

It’s like every time he wonders aloud, you pop up. “I’ve been looking for you.” You say, echoing the words he said to you that day in the streets of Seoul. 

“I was exploring!“ He says defensively, and you roll your eyes. 

“Come on.” You say, walking along the harbour front. 

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Namjoon asks, the words spilling out and surprising himself. Are you mad at him? You’ve never been mad at him before, not in the memories he’s seen. He hasn’t ever seen you fight with him, and immediately, he wants to apologise, fix things before he’s pulled back out and he has to live with the guilt and overthinking of whether you’re still mad at him for the next week. 

“Can’t believe you’re mad at me during our vacation.” Namjoon says, and that’s why he’s in Hong Kong, he realises. He’s on vacation. How strange. Namjoon thinks back to when the last time he took a break from work and the only thing he can think of is when that doctor put him on medical leave not too long ago. Oh no, you’re mad at him on holiday?

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You retort back, and Namjoon has never heard your voice this curt. “Just sit around pretending like everything's okay?”

“What do you want me to do?” Namjoon replies. “You act like this is my fault!” 

“It is your fault!” You cry out indignantly, and Namjoon knows that, but why? What did he do? What did you do? “Is this even a vacation?”

“Yes!” Namjoon cries out again in response, and you shake your head. 

“You promised, Namjoon.” You say like it’s a warning. 

“Yes, I know,” Namjoon says, even though he doesn’t and really, what on earth did he do? “But this is out of my hands! I can’t just say no, you’re not looking at this from my point of view.”

“You’re not looking at this from my point of view!” You argue back, and Namjoon looks around, realising that this squabble is attracting a small crowd of chinese people, gathering around to watch the free entertainment along the sidewalk of Victoria harbour. He awkwardly laughs, raising his hand and bows, a universal sign of apology, grabbing your hand and walking to the other direction. 

“Come on, I’d rather not have the whole city witness our fight.”

“Oh, so this is a fight now?” 

“What? Yes!” Namjoon says exasperatedly. “How else would you classify this argument?” 

Once he makes it to somewhere with at least a sliver of privacy, he turns around with his brows furrowed and a glare etched on his features. Why do you look so angry? Namjoon chastises himself. Just relax, relax, relax. As usual, his body doesn’t listen. 

“Why are you so mad at this?” Namjoon asks, and feels a flow of relief go down his spine. Finally. 

“It’s not just this instance, Joon. I know work is important, but sometimes it feels like you put literally anything else above me! Like last time? You bailed on our date, like, at least twice. You keep saying you can’t say no, but you can. You have that right, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon’s heart softens a little bit. His workaholic tendencies ended up biting him in the ass after all. Sighing he rubs the back of his neck, eyes glued to the floor. “I’m not prioritising work over you, baby.” He tries to explain, and tries to ignore how his heart sinks when your eyes turn stony at the sound of the pet name he often uses to address you. 

“It’s just important to me as well, okay? It’s not my fault my boss heard I was going to Hong Kong and insisted I come to interview some investors about Hong Kong’s economy.” He explains slowly. “It couldn’t take more than a single day to get everything organised and tidied up.” 

“But-!” You huff angrily, spitting out your words. “You don’t understand! You keep doing this, Namjoon. You keep working, working, working. It’s been this way since college. It’s like you’ll die if you just take a break to come talk to me. I even went over to your office to have lunch with you last week and they told me you were in a meeting.” 

“It was important!” Namjoon insists and he can feel things sinking and getting worse and worse with every word he says. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? You can’t expect me to put you in front of all of my responsibilities. I’m sure you have things you can’t give up for me too.”

Hearing that felt like a slap to the face to both you and Namjoon, and he’s screaming at himself internally, why would you say something so, so, stupid?

“Excuse me?” Your broken voice rings out and Namjoon’s accusatory finger falls. 

“Wait.” He mumbles, fumbling with his hands. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. Wait, I-” 

“Fine!” You yell angrily. “You think nothing’s more important than work? You think I haven’t given up anything for you, Kim Namjoon? Because I’d quit and give up anything for you, you asshole.” You bite out, tears desperately trying not to fall. “You fucking asshole.” You say, before turning back around to weave through the crowd. 

“No, wait, baby!” He calls out, and even he knows that he’s messed up. Messed up big time. That was more hurtful than any cuss word or insult he could’ve ever said. “Kim fucking Namjoon, you idiot.” He mumbles to himself. Seeing you cry is more painful than anything else in the world, Namjoon thinks. He’s not ever going to see that sight again if he can help it. 

He walks forward, trying to find you. Maybe you went back to the hotel, or went to look at the sea to clear your head. He thinks he sees the back of your head for a second, and he reaches forward, clutching at air. He’s about to cry, and Namjoon has never seen himself be more pathetic. 

“Oh no, where are you?” He murmurs to himself like a crazed man. What if you were hurt somewhere? He needs to know you’re safe, he needs to know you’re okay, he needs to make everything better. With each step, the lead feeling in his throat grows heavier and heavier until he feels like it’s sunk to his chest. He wants to kneel down, he wants it to stop hurting, but he can’t. 

He must aimlessly follow his shell to do whatever he is doing now. 

The lead feeling continues to grow, and Namjoon feels like he’s suffocating. He’s not supposed to be here, he reminds himself. But he has to find you first, then he can leave. Then he can go, but where are you? He wants to cry, he wants to breathe. 

Namjoon tells himself to gasp for air, but he cannot. He tells himself if this is the last time he ever sees you, he needs to see you smile. He needs to see you laugh. 

Like the pattern in the rest of his meaningless life, an evil deity always pulls him away from the ones he loves when he needs them most. He feels the lead feeling being lifted and pure panic races to Namjoon’s head. He tries to croak out no. He tries to resist, he shoves people aside and calls out your name. But no one answers him, and the cruel deity laughs at his demise. 

He is too weak, too weak to control himself. 

Namjoon is plucked out of the world and transported back to his bedroom with the threads of time slowly ravelling and tangling themselves around his neck, all while he reaches forward, only to grasp at air and pretend in his head that everything’s alright. 

When he reaches his bedroom and wakes up, he stumbles into the bathroom and vomits, all while longing for the warmth of your lips.

-

Walking around dazedly, Namjoon somehow manages to make his way to Seokjin and Jimin’s apartment, knocking and hoarsely asking them to open, open up please. Because he’s not sure he can hold on to another night alone. Jimin opens the door instantly and catches Namjoon in his arms, frantically calling for Seokjin to come fast. 

They lay him on the couch, hearts slowly breaking and trying to convince themselves their friend will be fine as they watch Namjoon whimper in his sleep. 

Namjoon wakes to the smell of breakfast, of bacon on the stove and Jimin chattering around while watering his plants. He gets up, headache pounding and throat sore. Seokjin wordlessly hands him a few pills and a glass of water, while Jimin plates up breakfast, placing the sausage, eggs and toast separately on the plate because Namjoon can’t stand it when food on his plate touches. 

Silently, the three friends eat. Nobody speaks until Namjoon clears his throat and looks up. 

“Thank you.“ He whispers. 

“What are friends for?” Jimin says. 

Namjoon wonders why he’s got such amazing friends. Jin replies that he was born perfect and God created him like this, so Namjoon shouldn’t dwell too much on it. Jimin and Namjoon both throw a spoon of scrambled eggs in his direction simultaneously, high fiving without missing a beat when Jin lets out a protest of unjust behaviour. 

 As the three friends sit quietly, Namjoon says: “I think I’m going mad.”

“I’m glad you’ve realised.” Seokjin replies offhandedly. 

“I don’t think I can keep going between these worlds. I think it’s making me lose my mind.” 

Jimin stills. Seokjin stops washing the dishes and turns off the faucet. 

“Do… do you know how to stop it?” Jimin asks hesitantly. Namjoon shakes his head, and Seokjin sighs, in deep thought, which is a strange and rare sight to see itself. 

“Well, I guess we’ll have to figure this out together.” Seokjin says casually. Jimin agrees and the faucet comes back on, Seokjin going straight back to washing the pan he used to fry up the scrambled eggs. Jimin unplugs the toaster and Namjoon sits, smiling at his beloved friends. 

“You can borrow some of my shirts.” Jimin calls from the bathroom. “You know, if you want to stay over a couple more nights. Feel free.”

“Make yourself at home and shit.” Seokjin mutters, waving his hand around sarcastically. Namjoon almost bursts out into tears of happiness, but he decides to hold it in until Seokjin doesn’t have access to his phone and won’t put Namjoon’s breakdown on instagram live. 

The next day, the entire gang comes over, all with varying degrees of understanding what the hell is going on with Namjoon. For example, Yoongi pretty much knows as much as Seokjin does, who still doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Taehyung was just told Namjoon’s been feeling down because God knows that boy has a big mouth and definitely can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

Seokjin supplies homemade snacks and burgers fresh off the grill, Yoongi brings over his unlimited Netflix and HBO account passwords he probably stole off of some innocent family member to watch Disney movies, Taehyung comes over with Yeontan clutched to his side because that’s the group's emotional support dog. Jungkook and Hoseok offer up their extensive alcohol collection and bring over some quality wines. Jimin, after a long three hours of consideration, gives up his lucky plushies and fluffy blankets to build a fort. 

For one night, the seven boys crowds around the television, watching everything from The Lorax to Tangled to Frozen and bawling their eyes out when Anna turned to ice (spoiler alert!!!) For one night, the fully grown men all turn back into their 8 year old selves, playing video games and staying up as late as they wanted even though they all had responsibilities to tend to the next day. 

When they all awake from their mega-sleepover the next morning, the remaining six friends all insist they just felt like watching Disney movies and drinking wine suddenly. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Namjoon’s been feeling a little off in the past few days. 

Absolutely not. 

Namjoon’s eyes brim with tears and he tackles all the boys to the ground in one incredibly coordinated group hug, ignoring Yoongi’s complaints of being anti-social and that his love language is not physical touch. 

“Thanks, guys.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jungkook mutters. “Now could you please get the fuck off?” 

“Never.” Namjoon says, muffled because he says it while his head is buried in Hoseok’s chest. 

“Love you.”

“... Love you too.” 

The next time he falls, Namjoon thinks he’s prepared. Ready, not to get attached, ready to make clear of what belongs in his world and what doesn’t, after lots of pep talks and therapy sessions with Seokjin and Jimin and Yoongi, who is surprisingly helpful with shooting down ideals of toxic masculinity and talking about mental health. 

He’s wrong- he’s not ready, but he doesn’t know that yet. 

Click. 

He’s come to resent that stupid sound. In an instant, he’s dropped into a car, which is strangely familiar. You are next to him, driving, and thank goodness, because everyone knows Namjoon cannot drive. If he were dropped in the driver’s seat, things may have taken a turn for the worse. 

“You want to play some music?” You ask, and Namjoon nods. 

“Yeah sure, turn up the radio.” You reach over to flip a switch and a pretty tune fills the car, echoing and bouncing off the walls of the small vessel. You bring your hand down and interlace it with Namjoon’s, who is suddenly hyper aware of his surroundings. 

“You’re driving, baby.” He says, and a great sense of relief floods back into his system when he sees you smile at the pet name. He hopes this moment is after the Hong Kong trip. He hopes he did the right thing and made up with you afterwards. 

“We always do this. When there’s not many cars around, anyway.” You hum along with the music. “Nobody’s on the road tonight.” Sure enough, there are no cars in sight and Namjoon sighs, curling his hand tight against yours. He looks out the window. 

“No stars tonight, either.” 

You snort. “There are never any stars around the city, babe.”

“Ahh.” He huffs playfully. “Fuck global warming.”

“Fuck capatalism.” You add on, and he nods, wholeheartedly agreeing. 

“I love you.” He murmurs. 

“I love you too.” You reply with a sweet smile and Namjoon just realises that no, he’s not ready to let go of you, because his heart still flips like crazy when he hears you say that. He’s so unbearably, horribly, absolutely in love with you. Not in a creepy or obsessive way like he was probably in love with you a few months ago, but so in love with you. 

He wonders why on earth he’s so drawn to you, but as usual, there’s no definite answers to his questions. Namjoon thinks about how he likes the way you cook pancakes, and how he likes the way you always reach down to pet a puppy no matter where you are or where you need to be. He loves the way you’d give up anything to defend the people you love. He admires your bravery and your courage. He admires the way you present yourself to the world. 

He loves you simply because you are who you are, unapologetically and unashamed, which is something he never had the guts to do. But he gets pretty damn near to being fully and truly himself when he’s around you, so maybe that’s why he’s so in love with you. 

Namjoon feels bad for a moment because he realises his love isn’t selfless or humble like the ones he sees on dramas and TV. His love for you is shamefully selfish, because he needs you more than anything else. He voices this out to you in a long speech while you keep your eyes on the road. 

“I need you more than you think I do, Joon.” You say, while laughing, and Namjoon doesn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved. 

“You think your love for me can trump my love for you?” He asks with his eyebrows raised.

“One hundred percent.” You drawl out, and this time, Namjoon’s offended. 

“Excuse me? Who the fuck?” He asks, sitting up. You laugh bashfully, enamoured but mostly just entertained by your needy boyfriend who is very willing to prove how much more he loves you right now. “I love you way more than you love me!” 

You laugh, your eyes still fixed on the road. “Oh no, please, we’re not arguing about this.”

“Yes we are!” Namjoon demands with a huge smile on his face. “How could you possibly think you love me more than I love you?” Your laugh only grows louder. 

“I don’t even know if you’re being serious or just joking around anymore.” You say through bit back laughter. 

“I’m being dead serious.” Namjoon softens for a bit, laying a hand on your thigh. “You’re my everything. You’re my future, you’re my present, you’re my past.” A part of you wants to tell him he’s being cheesy again, but the romantic in you who doesn’t want to hurt your boyfriend immediately shuts the realist in you up. 

“That was sweet.”

“I try my best.”

You turn your head back to the road and he keeps his eyes on you. On the hoodie you’re wearing, which definitely doesn’t belong to you and he now has a certain inkling of where his missing hoodie went. He likes how it swallows you up. He likes that you have something of his on you. 

Not as a weird mark of possession, but he likes that you’re comfortable with wearing something that essentially brands you as his. But you are his as much as he is yours and wow, Namjoon thinks in his head, is this the real Namjoon or the past Namjoon speaking? And his brain replies that it’s both. 

“I love you.” He repeats, because as much as he seems to say it, he can’t seem to express how much he loves you (hint: it’s a large amount). 

“I love you too.” You say right back. 

He wants to say it more. He wants to say it better. He wants to repeat it until you get annoyed and tell him to shut up, he wants to let you know how much he loves you. But his lips are sealed, and he can’t say another word. Instead of what he wants to say, the words that come out his mouth are, admittedly, just as true. 

“You’re pretty.” 

You giggle. “Did you just realise?” 

Namjoon shakes his head. “You’ve always been pretty. You were pretty on the day we met. You were pretty the day we fought in Hong Kong. You were pretty the first time you stayed over. You’re pretty when you cry, you’re pretty when you… I wanted to think of something that rhymes with cry, but it slipped my mind and now everything’s ruined.” 

You laugh, a real, huge one this time. He can always tell when your laugh is real or not. 

“Thank you.” You say. “For the record, you’ve always been pretty too.” 

Namjoon leans back into his seat. “Damn straight.” 

“When d’you think you first fell in love with me?” You ask, genuinely curious, and Namjoon thinks for a moment. He thinks about what the Namjoon in this moment would say, and he thinks about what the present Namjoon would say. 

If he had verbal control, what would he say? That he fell in love with you during the very first memory he was thrusted in? But that wouldn’t be true, and that wouldn’t be honest. He fell in love with you during the memory of when you met? But that wouldn’t be true either. He fell in love with you in between memories, when all he could think about was the next time you could be in his arms, or how much he longed for your touch. 

He tries to say that, he really does. 

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is: 

“I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a specific moment. Maybe it was that time we went to the movies and watched Coco while crying over popcorn, or maybe it was that time we went to Disneyland.” Namjoon’s heart slouches, because he doesn’t know any of those moments. He hasn’t been in any of those memories. 

“But I don’t think falling in love is a one moment, time stops kinda thing. I was always falling in love with you. From the time you spilled yogurt on my jacket to right now, where you’re asking me when I fell in love with you. I’m going to be falling in love with you tomorrow and the day after that, until the day where we shrivel up and die from old age.”

Oh, good answer, Namjoon thinks. 

“Good answer.” You say. “I think I’d say the same thing.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Namjoon sighs out. 

Something strikes Namjoon’s heart. It’s not the lead feeling or the heavy weight he’s grown used to. It’s strange, like a wave of deja vu. And suddenly, Namjoon stops thinking. He glances over to the control board to look at the time, which proudly reads: December 3rd, 2018. 

So that’s why he’s always had the feeling that these were memories. Why he was so adamant to believe these things really had happened to him. Even more strangely, what feelings strike him then is not panic, nor fear. It’s a strange flow of calmness that rushes through his veins. He looks over at you again, driving now with both hands on the steering wheel. 

He wonders why the deity would make him witness something as cruel and horrible as this, and he gets the weird feeling that this will be one of his last memories to enter. Namjoon looks at the dark blanket covering the sky and sadly thinks that the deity could have at least placed a few stars in the sky on this night. As consolation, or perhaps an apology. 

Something is ticking in the background, and Namjoon has no idea if it’s coming from the car or if he’s imagining it. Flashing memories go through his mind, so fast he can barely register them as images or moving pictures before they are gone again. Your smile, your laugh, your first date, your second date. The day he asked you to move in, the day you told him ‘I love you’ for the first time and he literally fainted. 

The day he came to pick you up from work for the first time, the night where he first laid his hands on you and kissed all your worries away. 

It comes fast and hurtles towards the two of you, but Namjoon doesn’t even see it coming because all he is looking at is you. Your face, your lips, your eyes, trying to engrave it all in his memory. You yelp out something to him, which he doesn’t hear. Floating images spin around both your heads and a high pitched screech rings out, a spark of orange lighting up like a stack of fireworks. The dark van shoots forward and collides into the driver’s seat. 

The world collapses. It goes sideways, rotates then flips completely upside down, and the dark fog starts to eat up Namjoon’s eyesight. Oddly, nothing hurts. Perhaps because of the shock, or panic, but nothing on Namjoon’s body is in pain. Everything crashes, Namjoon’s head hits the window with force. Something breaks, glass cracks, people scream and he cannot tell which is which. Red and white flashes are all he can see before everything fades to grey and he can only reach around in the darkness, to find your hand. 

He clutches onto your unmoving, still hand desperately, trying to calm his jumping heartbeat. Are those sirens in the background he hears or is that his imagination? Is that your voice he hears or is that a hallucination? 

In the end, his final thought before leaving the world once again is a wish. A wish that he prays the deity will grant him. He hopes that in your final moments, you were not scared. 

He falls. 

When Namjoon arrives home, his entire body is numb. He doesn’t know where he is, nor what he was doing before he was clicked in. He opens his mouth and screams for a full minute without stopping. 

It feels good in a fucked up way. 

Namjoon has never been one for confrontation. Just ask his middle school bullies, who tormented him all they wanted because he wouldn’t do anything but put up with it. Just ask Mingyu from work, who keeps piling his unwanted projects and articles onto Namjoon because he never protests or complains to the higher-ups. 

But while walking towards his childhood home with the birds chirping and his hands placed casually in his pockets, confrontation is all he can think about. He lets himself in the door; his mother never locks it and walks in calmly. 

His mother is sitting on the couch, stitching up a sock which has a hole in it. 

“Mom. I’m home.” He says softly, and his mother greets him normally. Namjoon leans on the wall and his mother stares at him strangely, calling him over to sit and have some fruit. He declines, telling her he won’t be staying very long. “That car crash that happened two years ago.”

The needle in his mother’s hand stills. 

“They said I had selective amnesia, right?” 

The needle picks up speed, stitching faster and faster, his mother’s hand moving faster than light. 

“What did I forget again?” 

“What did you remember?” His mother asks, never one to beat around the bush. 

“Mom.” He says, firmly this time. “What did you do to me.”

The sock is torn apart in his mother’s hands. “Namjoon,” She starts and Namjoon already has a growing urge to shake the truth out of her. “When you got into that crash two years ago, you came out of it with very little injuries. We were all so relieved. When you woke up, you didn’t remember Y/N.” All that fills the air for another moment or two is the spongy sound of silence. 

The gap in this family became clearer than ever to Namjoon. He thinks about how everyone must have been in on the secret, even his sister. And he was left to suffer, wondering why his life seemed so empty after forgetting something he couldn’t clutch onto. 

“And what?” He demands, screaming and throwing his hands out of his pockets. “Do you think you can just keep something like that from me? The love of my life, and you just decide to erase them from my memory?” His mother stills and looks up at her son. 

“You didn’t remember Y/N. You lost contact with all your college friends, and then when I asked the doctor how selective amnesia worked,” His mother cleared her throat. “Sufferers often forget some parts of their memory. Relationships, talents, skills, certain areas or certain people.” His mother looks up directly in his eyes. “Sometimes, especially after going through a traumatic event, people forget certain parts of their memory as a coping mechanism. To erase bits of pain and regret.”

“I thought,” Her voice breaks and her face twists in regret and bad memories. “I thought maybe by forgetting her, I’d be saving you from more pain and hurt. I just wanted you to stop hurting”

Namjoon held eye contact with his mother for three full seconds before collapsing and gasping for air, lying with his head on her lap. All words of scolding, anger. All the confrontational tactics and all the accusations he’d thought of shooting towards her had gone. 

“Hurts.” He let out through large gasps of breaths. “Hurts, mom.” He lied there, with tears threatening to spill out his eyes for the rest of the night, with his mother caressing his hair and apologising to him with tears in her eyes. 

“Miss Y/N. I miss Y/N.” He hiccups out, and his mother wipes away his tears, but it feels different from when you used to do it. 

“I know, I know.” The woman looking down at her son wonders why she put him in so much pain. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” The night carries on like that, with the lights eventually dimming and the night covers up the light in the sky. The mother son pair repeat their grievances and apologies to each other until the sun comes back up, peeking through the curtains and extending out their warm embrace as if it wants to comfort the hurting humans. 

It doesn’t take long for Seokjin and co to come knocking on his door, sent by his mother who must have filled him in on everything, judging from the looks on their faces. It only takes one single glance at his friends, tilting their heads and all asking to come in for him to burst into tears. Ugly crying, with snot coming out of his nose and eyes bloodshot red from the nightmares. 

Jimin is the first to reach forwards and bring Namjoon into a hug. Soon after that, the six friends surrounded Namjoon, comforting him with the warmth of their arms and soft spoken words of encouragement. 

“You did well.” Someone mumbles into his hair. 

“We’re all proud of you.” Someone else says. 

Namjoon’s sweater sleeves are sopping wet with tears when he asks the boys to help him get into therapy. 

Things went on like that for another while. 

Therapy isn’t as bad as Namjoon had thought it might’ve been. He wasn’t forced to be vulnerable or open up or confront his worst fears. He certainly didn’t want to tell the truth about the world he’s thrusted in, for fear of getting thrown out of the building and into a mental institution. 

Even his mother didn’t believe him the first time he told her about it. She urged him to visit a doctor. How could a therapist who doesn’t even know him believe the nonsense he spouts? Even he himself wouldn’t believe himself if he hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Slowly, but surely, he began to open up, and to his surprise, there was no calling of hospitals or kicking him out. His therapist sat there and listened like everything he was saying was valid. 

He started eating again, mostly because of Seokjin, stuffing his creations down everyone’s throats every two seconds, claiming he needs opinions on his new recipes even though Namjoon’s fairly certain that the past three dishes of spaghetti were the exact same recipe. 

Namjoon started to workout again with Jungkook, much to the younger boy’s surprise and happiness. They talked about their own struggles while panting on the treadmill and spinner. Jungkook eventually tells him that he also has a secret he keeps from the rest of the guys, which is his high school sweetheart who broke his heart so horribly that he still feels hurt from it. 

Jungkook told him to cheer up though, because most of the pain fades away with time. It’s still there, ever as present, but other things will become more important to you and cover up a scar or a wound with blooming flowers. 

“Like us,” He said cheekily. “Your friends.” 

He talked to Yoongi most days of the week about nothing in particular. He enjoys the time with Yoongi because he’s the only one who never walks on eggshells around him. He still pelts him with pillows and roasts the outfits on Rupaul’s Drag Race with him. Taehyung and Jimin even helped him adopt a dog, an furry white Eskimo named Rap Mon which is literally now Namjoon’s entire life. 

Would likely kill all of his friends if one of them hurt his precious baby. 

Life is good, Namjoon learns. He gets better at his job. He never forgets you, but things seem to hurt less. But he gets relapses sometimes. Some days he wakes up screaming about the stupid lead filling up his throat. Sometimes he gets nightmares so intense he has to take medicine.

Therapy isn’t as bad as he painted it out to be, but recovery is ten times harder than he thought it would be. Some days all he can do is lie in bed or do nothing, thinking of you. 

His therapist tells him that his life is more than his past memories. Both Yoongi and Hoseok agree, when he pulled up a random conversation about it late at night. Hoseok says that there’s never going to be a time where he won’t think of you, or still love you. Perhaps not as much as he once did, but he’ll never forget about you. Yoongi tells him he’s healing, and that they’re all proud of him.

Namjoon meets his friends, for the first time in the two years he’s known them. Taehyung has an extraordinary and (slightly strange) obsession over art museums. He’s been to almost every single one in Korea, and he dragged Namjoon over to one an hour away in Gangnam in the summer. Jimin is an amazing dancer, which Namjoon never knew.

Until Jimin brought it up casually, looking through old footage of his dance competitions. “Nothing big,” He said. “I used to dabble.” Namjoon’s eyes bulged out of his head and he told Jimin if that was ‘dabbling’, then he was wasting away his talent. He asked Jimin why he never made a career out of dance, and Jimin replied casually:

“I feel like if I start to make money off of it, and I’ll lose my love for it. Now that I haven’t really has time for it... I dunno. I feel like I’ve lost the talent a little bit.“

Namjoon told his friend that talent is nothing but a bunch of practice and time dedicated to a certain skill. Nobody loses talent, people just get a little unfamiliar with it. Jimin turned around in deep thought and told him he may just have a point. 

Still, some days, he can do nothing but sulk around, feeling like a waste of space. Take today for an example. He walks down the street and out of the corner of his eye, he thinks, and he might be wrong, he thinks he sees you. The back of your head, anyways, but you’re wearing a red sweater with headphones over your ears and you turn around the corner. 

Namjoon panics. He drops his coffee, which splashes all over his leather shoes and runs. He runs past the corner and he doesn’t know what on earth he’s doing but all he can do is run, and the wind dries his tears faster and faster, and he forgets all over again, that you aren’t here, that there’s no way he can go back and see you unless it’s in his memories, which he doesn’t even know how to control. 

Somewhere deep in the depths of his mind, he knows something about this doesn’t seem right. That it couldn’t possibly be you, because he watched you go right in front of his eyes. He knows that in order to heal, he can’t chase after you or center his world around you. He knows all of that. But in that moment, he forgets that he still doesn’t remember everything about you. 

He forgets that you’re dead. 

And one day he’ll be free from this constant spinning. One day he won’t ever have to think twice when he cooks pancakes but that day and all that work he’s put in is the last thing on Namjoon’s mind and all he can think about is if that’s really you. 

He sprints faster and reaches out, misses your wrist by an inch and ends up clutching at nothing but air. He heaves a huge breath, about to clap his hand over your shoulder-

Click. 

tags; @jksbbyfacebunny @extremeobsessions101 @dwcljh @bishuthot @s0seo @stonyiscanon @cecedrake2217​ 

[ourstarscollided]

jatp fanworks appreciation - day 1 (writers)

motivation - so in true me fashion and my aversion to brevity, i've made three (3) posts (see also artists, gifs/edits) to celebrate the wonderful people in this fandom who have made my jatp tumblr experience what it is; a community of people who simply shout into the void about their love of a ghost band and their fearless female leader. i've enjoyed simply being on the sidelines admiring everyone's love for the show, but i thought this would be a good time to really show my appreciation for all these wonderful people, because if i've learned anything from this pandemic, it's that there is NEVER a wrong time to tell someone that they are simply ✨the best✨.

disclaimer: i don't interact with most of these people personally and i simply absorb their content from afar and scream about how wonderful they are in the tags.

This list kind of became a fic rec, so if you're looking for some wonderful fics to read (or reread), I've also included my favs from the author here as well.

Okay this is gonna get a little long so please bear with me. But I just wanted to preamble this by saying that the fanfiction written by the jatp fandom is what resparked my love for reading fiction after about 3-4 years of not reading for leisure (be an adult they said. it'll be fun they said.). So I'm really grateful for that? I don't interact with a lot of people, just because it makes me a little anxious, but I will constantly yell about your content in the tags as if I were on a set of bleachers with a megaphone.

I also know there are so many wonderful fic writers out there (on Tumblr and not on Tumblr) that make amazing pieces of work, and this is just a tiny peek into that, and is not at all conclusive.

Without further ado here are some writers who live rent free in my head, in alphabetical order, so feel free to just skip to your name to avoid my rambling:

@bluefirewrites -> your Merry Ex-Mas fic had me on the edge of my seat every single time you updated. I am so in love with how you wrote the characters into this and at how many words you churned out for this fic. This was filled with so much adventure, and it was really welcome during a time when the world wasn't allowed to travel. And I simply love all the other drabbles and fics you write, but I especially enjoy the hilarity of Ray Molina, Crime Scene Photographer and Matchmaker.

@captainkippen -> I'm pretty sure Love Drunk was one of the first fics I ever read in this fandom. Your stories and your writing feel so goddamn real and I find myself so immersed in the worlds that you've created. I have reread most of your jatp fics and I still manage to find myself stupidly grinning at my phone each time. Your stories flow so easily and are such perfect characterizations of the characters we know from the show, but elevated to fit into your verse. I cannot say enough how wonderful your writing is and how talented you are!! (also a slight nudge that I am still very much following along with The Key and the Crown and I hope you continue it!)

@catty-words -> Your???? Exhaustive??? Music??? Lists???? The amount of work and dedication and microanalyzing that you put into pulling out every detail from each scene is so admirable. You not only manage to find the details, but you also give us EVIDENCE via your intricately selected gifs. You could've just put the video of the performance, but no, you take your time to find that specific 1 second shot to emphasize your point. And your little fics that you sometimes throw out into the world? They're so beautiful, and so fun to read and I enjoy them so much! (I am STILL screaming about this band's a snack) Thank you for validating my yelling in the tags, and for feeding my hyperfixation to this show. (I'm sad these lists are ending soon, but it's about the journey ya know?)

@lydias--stiles -> I don't even know what to say here because I've yelled so much about your fics that I feel like there's really nothing else to yell. Your Road Trip AU was also one of the first ones I read in this fandom, and really just made me go absolutely feral. Pretty sure I absorbed the rest of your fics in an ungodly amount of time and I just simply think you are incredibly skilled and talented. Every time you post a new fic I always wonder what it's like to be in your head because the ideas you come up with are so unique and so well thought out. Thank you for all the art you create for this show, I will constantly be in awe of you. (Special shoutout to the 5+1 fic that became a 31 chapter monster)

@pearlcaddy -> This list would not be complete if I didn't mention you. First of all, thank you for suggesting this wonderful week, it has been so lovely to see so much love being spread around today. Secondly, I never thought I'd find myself reading a Buffy or a Wizarding World crossover fic, considering I know nothing about those two things. And yet I found myself on various nights after work at 3 in the morning just silently screaming and/or crying into my phone. Your writing is so insane. Your world building is so insane. Your banter/dialogue is insane. The way you capture the love between Julie/Luke in different universes is so perfect. Thank you for gifting us these beautiful pieces of art, and I hope you know that you have at least made one person (me) a very happy reader. I also really admire your dedication to "this will only be a oneshot", only to write like 4 other POVs for it. (Special shoutout to 100 Bad Days)

@ruzek-halstead -> Literally every single fic you have written lives rent free in my head. The way you've managed to build this universe of different Julies and Lukes, and each one still captures the essence of them is astounding. You've extended their characters beyond what we know from the show and I am just in awe of everything you write. Please know that dead of night is both triggering to me and yet the most hilarious thing I have read. (Special shoutout to the Fake Dating Christmas AU and of course the Cinderella Story AU)

@serendipitee -> Your stories and your writing are absolutely magical. I think Write It Down was one of the first multi-chapter fics that I followed super closely and whenever you updated, I would literally drop what I was doing and read it instantly. You have such a way of building the plot and the characters for all of your fics and drabbles, and making the reader just want more. Please know that I am so obsessed with Oh, She Waltzed With the Dead and I cannot wait to see where you take the story!

@sunsetcurbed -> I have no words for your writing. I am simply in awe every time I read something from you. The way you've got down Alex and Willie's voice to a tee is so crazy good. You write their characters and their stories with such grace and care, especially with how you approach the topic of mental health. Thank you for all the research you do and for also writing in your own experiences. I literally binged the Princes Diaries AU during work and lost a good half day to it, and I regret nothing because that fic left me in SHAMBLES. I secretly adore the way you say you're going to keep a fic short, and end up writing an insane amount of words for it. (I have not yet left my obligated long-ass comment on Chapter 4 of the College AU yet because I am still processing the fate/destiny concept.)

@tangledstarlight -> Gahh. Rosie. Please. This is going to sound a little repetitive considering I just screamed at you last night, but now I guess I will just have to publicly confess my adoration for you!!! Thank you for being my first online friend in a very long time, and for putting up with me yelling at you about everything (and also nothing at the same time). I can't believe all it took was one message about your Royals AU for you to post it, but I will gladly take that credit any day. You are so so so incredibly talented with your writing, and your ability to transport me to another world while I read your fics is unparalleled. I adore the way you can come up with a new story to write every day, and then proceed to throw it into your pot of other WIPs. I am so so so so lucky to have gotten to know you and am incredibly grateful that I now have someone to cry about everything with 🧡 (If you read anything from Rosie, you need to read her Seasons/Long Distance Juke "friendship" fic and the Reggie x Photography oneshot that made me bawl my eyes out.)

@thedeathdeelers -> No thoughts. Just soulmates. Jk jk, you know I love your Reggie x Ray x Carlos fics, and I will scream in the tags about it until the day I get more of those fics from you. This is lowkey a threat, but wrapped in kindness. You are so wonderful to see on my dash (albeit scary at times because of the sheer amount of headcanons and theories running through your head), but you radiate such positive energy that it's impossible to not want to jump in and scream about soulmates with you.

Some special mentions to fics that also live rent free in my head:

@sunsetsandcurves wrote a Willex Cruise Ship AU inspired by a Simple Plan song and it’s something I never knew I needed until I read it. 

@phantom-curve wrote a Juke fic based off of Coney Island and I would just like to say, yes, it did shatter me. (Here’s the fluff sequel that makes up for it though)

@unsaidjulie wrote the Juke dog fic of my dreams and I simply cannot express how much I want the Molina’s to have a dog now. 

@pawprinterfanfic managed to get me incredibly invested in a Star Wars AU even though I know absolutely nothing about Star Wars. I just know that I would die for two (2) space boys. 

@sanssssastark  your Later universe made me realize that I do very much want there to be more mature content for this fandom (and you constantly deliver).

@theobligatedklutz wrote a Tangled Willex AU that makes me screech every time there’s an update. Just read it.

@alexthedrummerboy your talent knows no bounds when it comes to your Social Media AU. Also she’s written ORIGINAL songs for Alex and Willie?!?!?! 

@gennified has this really wonderful modern take on pride and prejudice for Willex and I’m so obsessed with how much miscommunication there is.

@bananaleaves okay, I just found your Tumblr today, and I know you don’t know me in any capacity, but allow me to scream about THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. If anyone in this fandom is to read ANYTHING, it’s this fic. This was one of the best things I’ve read in a long time and absolutely wrecked me. Please just read this.

This turned out WAY longer than it was supposed to, and I’m SO SORRY. (I also tried to make sure I got everyone’s pronouns right, so PLEASE let me know if they’re wrong!) A final sincere thank you to everyone in this fandom who writes. Your talent knows no bounds. Gonna stop talking now before this becomes an essay....

[foxymoxynoona]

Hi Foxyyy! This might sound like a stupid question, but why did you decide to make JK a virgin in Little Bean? I understand idol lifestyle is a huge hindrance to his social life, and that led him to be a bit sheltered. I'm curious about your thought process behind it :D Have a nice week!

Yeah! So the short answer is obviously... because I wanted to haha. The whole story actually began with me wanting to write a "JK has sex for the first time" story --which is the scene in Little Bean, and clearly exploded out from there.

But I'll explain under the cut my rationale for how I got him to that point in this story as long as everyone promises to remember I'm talking about my work of fiction, not the real guy. <3

Here are all the various tidbits that were floating in my head when building LBJK and his limits/experience:

- Korea is a conservative country and the age for sex and marriage is coming down with new generations, but still on the higher side compared to less homogenous and conservative countries. His character is an interesting blend of tradition and progress thinking, so it was easy for me to imagine him as being pro-sex but also a little careful with his own activities.

-JK is surrounded by older guys (and no sisters) with varying sexual confidence in the story, their porn stashes, and their stories, probably exaggerated, which would make it all seem sort of intimidating and exciting... and feed right into his insecurities. Porn and the bragging of older brothers don't necessarily teach you the things you need to know. The sheltered comment you made is right and we'll see more of that soon: there are a lot of aspects of dating that most of us take for granted that he just has no experience or emotional IQ about yet.

- JK started a VERY demanding job very young, with a very rigorous schedule that left him little time for privacy, or for freedom at the age when most people are learning how to interact with the opposite sex. He was already having fear of exposure, scandal, and career implications drilled into his head, and he was tired. I didn't want to write him as "scared to have interactions with the opposite sex" because he clearly has a bunch of noonas he loves, but more that he gets a little nerdy shy when he actually wants to have sex with a woman because he's not quite sure how to progress things from Point A to Point B.

- JK has a lot of self criticism and insecurities wrapped up in shyness. I've heard that factoid about real JK that he wasn't comfortable showering around his hyungs as a teenager. His body has been under scrutiny always. I think that fear of negative feedback (such as he received with earlier girlfriends in the story) cuts deep and has held him back from being really open about the parts of him (both physical and emotional) that he's able to keep privacy about.

- On an emotional level, he's this blend in the story of very romantic, very lazy about relationships (previous relationships mainly; because he's tired but also a bit of a loner naturally, introverted, and has a limit to how long he can keep the BIG EFFORT train going), and very insecure about his own likeability. In the first book he talked about the difference between stage and his real self. He meets people constantly who expected him to be one way or the other and he worries about disappointing them. So in LB I saw that romanticism in him as something he dreams of for the future but has not felt up to the task for yet... until Sasha. He also doesn't want to settle for less. I think in the most recent chapter is when he said something about how he thought he'd have to be his best self before anyone really loved him. And since he was afraid of the risks and vulnerabilities of casual sex, it meant he put things off.

-I also wanted to push on the reality that no one knows about anyone until you're told. There is literally no way from someone's personality to tell whether they're sexually active or not. Sasha assumes he has no experience, which is incorrect. You can get up to a lot of shenanigans before penetrative sex, and he did! But it tended to not go well for him, which fed into his fears about being that close with someone.

-I wanted a big character growth for him in the story to be him taking control and comfort of his own self --physically, emotionally, mentally-- and genuinely learning to love and trust himself, and recognize that others can also love him and be trustworthy. We're still early in that growth, although he's always taken such HUGE steps thanks to the acceptance and adoration of Sasha. But he still relies so much on external feedback (I know some readers have called that out too!) I want him to build that innate love and acceptance of himself.

OK, I think that's it, but happy to answer questions like this :) Character analysis is fun!