#but the recording behind was rly IT for me

[maplegyu]

Just finished watching the behind recording of Winter Heptagon and my Jinyoung feels are actually through the roof!!!!!

I KNEW THIS WAS THE FIC I NEEDED TO READ AND SINCE HOT WHEELS IS ONE OF (IF NOT) MY FAVORITE FIC(S) IN EXISTENCE I KNEW LANA WOULD NOT DISAPPOINT!!!!

I was grinning like the cheshire cat. The moment I read this line.

He doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

I knew I was going to be well fed!!!!

Jinyoung is the kind of cocky that's not loud. It's effortless. It's one of the things i love most about him and probably a trait that will get me heartbroken. But he just pulls it off so fucking well.

Much like how Lana just perfectly captures Jinyoung's silent cockiness. She just wrote him so well. I can imagine him owning the room (the whole damn house) even if it's readers! That's just the energy he gives off. He's smooth as fuck and this made me weak in the knees!!!

When a man like Park Jinyoung teases and smooth-talks you like this, i'm sorry but it's over? You simply have no chance and you will give in. AND JINYOUNG KNOWS IT

God this was so self indulgent (i could tell!!! hahaha) but it was such a good read!

Reset [M] Pairing: Jinyoung (Got7) x Fem!Reader Tags: 2.7k, exes to lovers, comfort/fluff, humor, smut 21+ Summary: Life works in mysterious ways - like when it puts two divorcees together and turns up the heat. It doesn’t help that he’s handsome, charming, and still in love with you.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content 21+ MINORS DNI. mxf, no protection (don’t make me tell ya’ll again), no foreplay - he’s just hot, ex-spouses rekindling, mild language, and a glass of wine. It's more banter and fluff than smut tbh.

When you got home, his car was parked in the driveway, so when you walked in the front door, you were not surprised in the least to see your ex-husband waiting for you. To be honest, you had a feeling he’d be here anyway.

“Jinyoung,” you hum patiently, hanging your purse next to his keys and kicking off your heels next to his shoes at the door, “Just because you still have a key, doesn’t mean you can show up any time you like.”

Jinyoung only smirks from his proprietary position on your couch. He’s plenty relaxed, his fitted grey pants stretched taut over his thighs comfortably spread apart, taking up more space than necessary. The crisp white shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows. No watch, phone, shoes, socks, or keys, and his typically perfect hair is tousled and relaxed. 

He doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

“How was your day at work, sweetheart? Kids all settled in at your mom's?”

His playful response thins your patience, just slightly. “They’re teenage boys with dirtbikes and twenty acres of land. You know they don’t need to settle in anymore. They practically live outside all weekend except when mom calls them in to eat. They’re fine,” you ignore his first question and continue moving past him, straight toward the kitchen.

Jinyoung laughs and you can hear him getting up to follow you. You’re bent over, looking in the refrigerator drawers to pull something out for dinner when his hands slide over your hips, pulling you back up and away from your task. You kick the fridge shut with your foot and he kisses your temple. “I already ordered delivery,” he hums against your shoulder now, hands trailing up and around your waist, keeping you anchored to his body, “How about a glass of wine?”

You want to say no but it’s been a long day, it’s the weekend, and you’ll want one if you have to endure this for the rest of the night. 

“Make it red,” you sigh in defeat, rolling your eyes when he kisses your neck.

As he pulls away, you catch yourself watching his every move. It’s been three months of this.

You were together for fifteen years, married twelve, brought two beautiful boys into the world, and divorced just over a year ago. It was a mutual choice, one you hated to make, but it was what felt necessary at the time. Jinyoung was still the same incredibly attentive father keeping the boys every weekend, showing up for every school award and sporting event, and you even agreed to still have holidays together as a family. You co-parented like champs.

And then he invited you over one night for dinner, just to catch up, about three months ago. It wasn’t even the first time you had done it. There were several occasions since your separation when you shared a meal with and without the kids. This one just happened to be…different.

Dinner was fine, pleasant even, and then he fucked you against every single surface in his condo like he was making up for time lost over the last year in one evening. Worse than that, you spent the night and did it all over again the next day.

Presently, Jinyoung hands you a glass and pours another for himself. You swirl the contents idly until he corks the bottle and lifts his glass to yours. “To our good fortune and health, our wildly handsome sons who are probably not going to shower for the next three days,” your pursed lips break into a small smile, amusement glittering in your eyes, “And to us, for everything we’ve accomplished, and for all that’s yet to come.”

His smile is a dazzling reminder of how you fell for him in the first place. You raise your glass and take a hardy sip letting the flavor splash over your palette. “How long until the food gets here?”

Jinyoung glances at the clock overhead and grins. “Twenty minutes.”

Your eyes slip down to his chest and that’s all it takes for Jinyoung to have you pinned against the counter with your panties pushed aside and one of your legs up around his waist. You cling to his shoulders, crying out his name as he fucks you recklessly right there in your own kitchen. 

Because he can.

Because you want him to.

He pumps into you faster and you try to brace yourself on the cool granite, accidentally knocking into one of the wine glasses. Neither of you even stops to look as the glass tips over and shatters, red wine bleeding out until it’s spilling onto the floor. You’re too close and he refuses to look at anything other than your face, lids half closed, lips parted in praise.

“We’re running out of time,” he murmurs, still smirking as he says it because he knows you’ll finish before then. He reaches up, cradling your cheek in one hand which might seem sweet for a moment but then he pushes his thumb against the seam of your lips, parting his own as a silent order to open yours. 

Despite how distracted you are, you understand easily what he’s doing and accept his instructions, opening up for him to push the tip of his thumb inside just long enough for you to wet it before he’s pulling it out and rolling it over your clit, lazily at first. He finds so much joy in dragging things out for as long as he possibly can, grinning the entire time. Then his phone buzzes in his pocket and he knows he’ll have to save the teasing for later. 

He leans closer, kissing your neck as he speeds up both his hands and hips. Your head tips back into the cabinet behind you, panting into the open air above. The sweet sounds pouring from your lips spur him on and it is absolutely not in his plans to finish now, as masochistic as that feels at the moment, so he contains them, slipping his free hand behind your neck so he can kiss you hotly on the mouth, swallowing each sigh. It’s exactly what you needed too. 

The doorbell chimes and you barely hear it, all background noise canceled out as your orgasm leaves you shaking, ears ringing, and chest heaving. He doesn’t move until you still, slumped back against the counter trying to catch your breath. Then, after he fixes his clothes, he slides your panties back in place, pulls your dress down, and kisses you again, much softer this time. 

“Food is here,” he hums, smiling when you trail after his lips. 

“Food can be reheated later,” you counter, catching him in another kiss. 

Jinyoung laughs, the sound is beautiful and something you’ve missed so much. “Let me at least bring it inside and clean up the mess on the floor real quick.”

Oh, right. Broken wine glass. “I’ll clean that up.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “Let me take care of it, please.”

Let me take care of you…

You hold onto him for a few seconds more and relent, “I’ll be in the bedroom. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

His brows pull together, “My favorite room in the house? Of course, I do.”

Jinyoung leaves you with an easy grin and you watch him go until he’s out of sight before trailing down the hall to your room. Bypassing the light switch, you opt to use the lamp on the bedside table instead and it fills the room with a low–light. You pull off your dress and bra, depositing them in the hamper, and decide to grab one of his shirts from its hidden place in the depths of your closet. 

When he returns, food in hand as you predicted, he grins seeing that you read his mind. 

“If we don’t eat it now, we never will,” you shrug, patting his side of the bed, “Come on.”

He hands over the bags to you and you begin pulling things out trying to not get distracted by him stripping off his clothes until he’s left in only his briefs and crawling into bed next to you. He helps set everything up and you grab the remote, flipping on the TV. 

It’s so painfully reminiscent of your early years together. When you were wholly focused on your relationship with each other, not on your careers, your children, or your future. 

After a while, Jinyoung lets out a small sigh. “When did we stop doing this?”

You smile wistfully. “It’s been a long time,” you poke at your food in the takeout container, “At some point we just…gave up.”

He understands what you truly mean.

Jinyoung stares at the side of your face, your eyes still trained on the contents you’re stirring around in thought. He has always loved you - he still does in this very moment. It was never about falling out of love, but because you both fell into roles. A husband, a wife. A father and a mother. You’d forgotten that beneath all of that, you were two people in love, and at some point, you stopped prioritizing your relationship. 

“I love you,” he says suddenly and you look at him, wide-eyed, “I love you so much and I’m sorry I stopped saying it out loud.”

“Jiny-”

He sets his container down and turns to you, reaching out for your free hand. “I’m sorry that I stopped kissing you hello, and goodbye, and for no reason at all…that I stopped holding your hand in the car and across the table,” you set your food aside and take his other hand, squeezing it tightly, “I’m sorry that I didn’t even realize that I’d just…stopped trying.”

“I am just as much at fault,” you reach up, brushing your thumb under his eye, burning with fresh tears, “We were…young and so in love, and then we grew up and life got busy. We stopped prioritizing our needs in our relationship and we got burnt out.”

He nods, understanding exactly what you mean. 

“I love you, Jinyoung, I have always loved you, and I’m sorry we had to go through all of this just to remember how to show it to one another.”

He cradles your face in his hands and pulls you closer to kiss you tenderly. It’s soft, sad, happy, sweet…it’s full of love. Your hands close around his wrists and he pulls back a touch, smiling at you softly. “I can’t say I am glad we did it, but it gave us this chance to remember who we are and what we want. I love you and I want to spend every day reminding you just how much I love you.”

“Are you asking me to go steady, Jinyoung?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing and steals another kiss. “I’m asking you to be my wife…again.”

“I don’t think I can go through the stress of another wedding,” you sigh, pressing your foreheads together.

“You don’t want to hear me recite my vows to you all over again?”

He says it as he leans over you, arms coming around your body in a way that says he won’t be letting go any time soon. It's a glorious place to be and the thought of calling him your husband again, just your husband and not your ex, is as thrilling now as it was when he proposed.

“Well, maybe I could be persuaded…a little intimate garden wedding sounds kind of nice…”

He grins and buries his face in your neck, savoring the beautiful sound of the laughter that spills from your lips as he kisses your skin over and over. Then he picks his head up and bites his lip, “How do you think the boys will feel?”

You scoff. “I think the boys know more than they let on.”

He tilts his head in thought. “Now that you mention it, I usually get a reminder text, sometimes from both of them, every day leading up to a stay with your parents. Almost like they wanted to make sure I knew you’d be home alone that particular weekend….my darling sons….handsome and clever, like their father.”

“Mhm,” you purse your lips at the wistful look on his face, “Come to think of it, I remember your eldest looking a little too smug, like his father, when he asked ‘What happened to what’s his face?’ as if he already knew. You told him, didn’t you?”

Jinyoung scowls thinking about the guy you had just barely started seeing before the two of you started fooling around again. “That tall motherfucker,” he grunts, “I can’t believe you were going to replace me with that guy. What? Just because he can cook? So what…anybody can take a cooking class!”

You roll your eyes, quietly laughing at his ongoing rant. 

He finally notices the amusement all over your face and abruptly asks, “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head, still grinning, “Kind of cute to know you still get jealous over me.”

Jinyoung scoffs, stutters, and then closes his mouth for a moment. “Ok, yeah…fair. I was extremely jealous. You could have chosen someone less attractive.”

“That would have made you less jealous?” you quirk your brow. 

“No,” he immediately shakes his head. No hesitation.

Laughter erupts from your chest. You didn’t think so either. “ Listen, I wasn’t replacing you and that guy is a good person, so be nice. Your boys were feral around him but he had the patience of a saint. I’m still surprised he didn’t run away after picking me up for our first date. They must take after you…hellions.”

Jinyoung gives you the most deadpan expression. “My boys are angels.”

“Your boys are howling at the moon and swinging through trees right now.”

He laughs but agrees. “Have they checked in at all? I haven’t heard anything.”

“I have no idea, my phone is still in my purse,” you pinch his arm, grinning, “I walked in to find you spread out on the couch and got distracted. I had to pretend I wasn’t drooling just looking at you.”

“You don’t have to pretend that I am not the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on,” he teases with a pretty smile, “I think it’s obvious if you’re willing to marry me twice.”

“Go get my phone so we can be responsible parents.”

He obliges but only after he kisses you so thoroughly it leaves you breathless in his wake. He winks, climbing out of the bed. “Have I told you that you’re the hottest mom, ever?”

You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head until you’re exposed to his hungry eyes. “How about you just move your ass so I can remind you exactly how hot I am.”

He has to drag himself away, quickly making his way into the living room, retrieving your phone from your purse at lightning speed, and then he jumps back into bed, passing it into your waiting hands. You unlock your phone and find a message waiting. You burst into laughter and hold it out for Jinyoung to read. 

“Goodnight Mom (and Dad…we know you’re there. You share your phone location with us, remember?) Grandma says she knows too but told us to mind our business. I think she is really happy though because she gave us a high-five and extra dessert. Ok, LOVE YOU GUYS!!!”

Jinyoung laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah…I forgot about the location thing,” he admits, climbing back under the covers next to you, “I guess this means we can stop sneaking around.”

“I think I might miss the privacy in your condo,” you grin, playfully squeezing his chest, “We can’t be nearly as loud here.”

Jinyoung smirked, “Let’s sell both our places and buy a new one with the master bedroom on the opposite side of the house.”

“And a pool so the boys stay busy outside.”

Jinyoung kisses your forehead. “I love the way you think.”

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, rolling on top of your husband, “But I want you to make sure I can’t think straight for the next forty-eight hours.”

Jinyoung grins, flipping over to pin your body beneath his. “Happy wife,” he pauses to steal another searing kiss, “Happy life.”

Thanks for reading!

GOT7 M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Bubblebeom, 2020. ©️

[slytherinshua]

hiyya! •ᴗ• im the anon who send the weird study methods ask and i just wanted to say that it was suuper cute i loved reading it! i was honestly so surprised at how fast you wrote it and how cute it was, especially seungmo's part! if your up to make an anon friend ill be more then happy to hang out on your acc more often (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ! your writting is so good im honestly highkey jealous at how nicely you write and put words together..! ♡

anyway, love from 🍒 anon?

hi again!! I’m so glad you enjoyed it 🥹🥹 some requests I just finish super fast and that happened to be one of them (it was a super cute and funny idea + I wanted to write more for ampers so it just worked out rly well) AND YES I LOVED SEUNGMOS PART TOO and siyun’s those are my fav two <3 I would absolutely love to have another anon friend 🥹🥹🥹 it gets a lil lonely around here sometimes cause I think my other anons are busy 😞😞 stop thank you omg ☹️☹️ u are so sweet 💔💔

[arolesbianism]

Uh oh

[breakyourrxles]

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟡

𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞

↳ The surprises keep coming, and after a barely-survived stint at Idol Radio and an unexpected confession from a bandmate; you become a little bit more willing to take on some risks of your own.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [7,2k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

"Arguably, that's precisely why we need more private time." Sunwoo grins and then says, "If it's going to keep happening, then it should most definitely be more private."

The door shuts behind you and with a blank stare you say, "This is a really bad idea."

Your manager looks up from the open laptop in front of him, and as if somewhat anticipating the pushback, he sighs heavily and asks, "And why is that?"

"It wasn't that long ago that we had a meeting where we discussed how the company wouldn't even let us be in the same room in front of cameras, now all of a sudden I'm going on his radio show?" Plopping down into a seat, you slump down into it like all of the life is slowly draining from your form. Not far from the truth. "What changed? It doesn't make any sense."

"Welcome to idol life, the company is going to make a lot of changes and decisions that don't make any sense to you. They don't have to. It isn't your job to make sense of them, it's your job to show up and do what you're instructed to do with a smile on your face and little fuss about it."

"So, that's it? Just shut up and let the pieces fall where they may?" you ask.

He pulls his glasses off from his face and sets them on the table, rubs his eyes with the pads of his fingers and says, "I don't want us to have a tumultuous relationship with one another, but there isn't much I can do about it. We are all taking orders from the top, myself included."

There is silence that follows thereafter, and though you understand where he is coming from, the unknown of what is soon to come does not sit atop you without its weight. He must not feel contented by the outcome of this either, because after only a short amount of time passed he speaks up again.

"It's going to generate activity. People who are aware of your history together are going to be tuned in to watch because they're curious about how it's going to look between you now. They want to find something, they want to see something; and if they can't, then they'll probably just make something up. Depending on how this goes the company will then make a decision about how the two of you will be managed as a unit in public going forward."

"Ah." You nod once, a sarcastic acceptance of the plan as it is paid out before you. "If the court of public opinion doesn't go ahead and lambast me online for something that I may or may not even do, then there's going to be more where this came from."

"Essentially, yes." He puts his glasses back on, turns his attention back to the computer and says, "So, let's do our best to minimize negative perception as much as we can. Who knows? Maybe the people will love you together."

You severely doubt that.

Jubi is a powerful vocalist and Nara is firm and outspoken in ways that tend to be divisive. Between the incredible raw talent and a tough temperament, the conversations of the evening tend to have little to do with you. All according to plan, and you're perfectly happy to sit back and bide your time as the minutes of recording tick down toward your freedom.

Watching Sunwoo work like this is fascinating. His idol persona feels like it is an extension of himself but turned up to eleven. Everything is explosive reactions and playful flirting with fans through the large window that looks out over the street. There are so many people outside—people here to see MVNE and Sunwoo alike—and while they appear to be pleased with the way the event is turning out, there is nothing to say that the conversations surrounding it online are anything close to the same peaceful understanding.

You try not to think about it. You watch Jubi and Nara hold their own with little input from you, but you cannot simply sit back in silence and bring nothing to the table. Doing so reeks of some air of guilt; a woman with something shameful to hide, regardless of the nasty truth behind that perception.

Nearing the end of questioning, Sunwoo's attention turns to you. There's a glimmer of something in his eye that you know to be troublesome. Surely, he is smart enough not to invent problems where there doesn't need to be any… Right?

"How does it feel? Being on the other side of idol and fan culture?"

Truth be told, you are not prepared to discuss this topic in any facet whatsoever.

But you cannot react. You are not afforded the luxury of expressing any feelings of discomfort or awkwardness in relation to this question. Everything is an act and playing it cool is of the utmost importance in all situations they may happen to fall upon you. Inside, you are screaming. You want to leap across the room and rip Sunwoo into a headlock, threatening to murder him in front of all of his precious onlookers and really give them something to post about once they get home.

Instead? You smile and cock your head to the side cutely.

"Well, it's different, of course. I would say it's impossible to anticipate what you're getting into when transitioning to the other side. It's easy to believe that you understand so much from being so close to it, but it really is quite a learning experience. Being in fandom was a beautiful part of my life that I could never come to regret, but I also wouldn't give this up for anything in the world, either. I think I'm right where I'm meant to be."

Jubi and Nara both look at you with soft smiles and proud eyes. It's a good answer, but more than that, it's a truthful one.

When filming wraps and you slip away into the green room for your belongings, there's a message waiting for you on your phone.

Manager [21:48]: Not able to accompany you back to your dorm, needed elsewhere for the evening. Sunwoo's manager will ensure that you get back safely. Great work tonight, rest well.

Okay, mildly annoying. Ultimately, this does not disrupt your evening too much though. Jubi and Nara have other late-night schedules to attend to and thus it makes sense that you are not sent to be dealt with by the other MVNE managers, but being sent off with Sunwoo presents a whole different set of difficulties that you are not so in the mood to be dealing with.

Specifically, being seen entering the same car as him.

You roll your eyes to nobody but yourself as you imagine it happening and the potential fallout as a result. Realistically, this should not be a situation, at all. The two of you are labelmates, and in any other job it is not so ridiculous to think that colleagues may share rides and be seen going places together.

Unfortunately, the idol life is no such career choice.

This could be a mess, but you don't really have another option.

Exiting from the venue, you and the other girls walk behind Sunwoo and maintain a substantial amount of space. Many fans are lined up near the vehicles that stand waiting for you, and through excited waves and huge smiles, the four of you continue on towards the moment of truth.

One girl from the crowd shouts Jubi's name and asks where it is that MVNE is headed to next. She says that she hopes you're able to enjoy a nice meal, and though you allow your groupmate to have this interaction, it also serves as the perfect opportunity for you.

Jubi frowns so big that you think it could be seen from space and says, "Nara and I have another schedule to go to! No rest for us, yet!"

"I'll go home and I'll be sure to rest well and eat well," you say, "but I have to go with the other car and send the girls off on their way, unfortunately."

The crowd whines in unison, sad for the fact that you must be split from your friends, and just as it begins dying down you feel a small touch to your arm. A manager urging you to come along and be on your way.

"Time to go! Thank you so much for coming out, it was so much fun! Get warm and have delicious meals together. We'll meet again soon!"

You waste no more time climbing into the van. Your head is down, eyes glued to the cement beneath your feet and trying not to think about any of the curious others that may be watching you on account of all of this. The thoughts have to be pushed away, the worry is not something that you can do anything about, nor is the aftermath of it. 

Sunwoo is standing just beside the open door, and though you pass him to get inside, you don't look at him, either.

Fan interaction carries on even once the van pulls away, and you have no other option than to swallow down the welling anxiety inside of you and engage with just as much enthusiasm as before.

Once the last face has disappeared into the dark distance, the windows roll back up and you all but melt into the leather seat beneath you.

There is no peace for you here, however.

Sunwoo—sitting in front of you—swings around and props his chin up on the headrest to look at you. 

"I have a surprise."

Slowly, your eyes close. "I do not like the sound of that."

"Oh, come on!" he whines. "I went through all of this trouble to do something nice for us and this is how you're going to repay me?"

"I just survived one of the most stressful nights of my very new idol career and now you're telling me about some surprise you have orchestrated? Forgive me for not immediately jumping for joy when all I really want to do is bury myself six feet in the ground."

Sunwoo is perceptive, despite his unwillingness to meet someone halfway with their emotional earnestness the majority of the time. He is more than capable of understanding when the vibes, for all intents and purposes, are off, but whether or not he feels like feeling with that can be a whole different kind of beast.

Still, he must be feeling especially receptive tonight, because his eyes narrow slightly as he stares at you and rather than doubling down on the humor he says, "You did really well tonight. Everyone loved you and you carried yourself impressively. This was pretty much a nightmare scenario for the both of us and it worked out in the end, let yourself have a sigh of relief."

As annoying as it may be when he is right, right he is. You do exactly that and try to breathe out all of the negative energy that has accumulated inside of you with one, swift sigh, and once it's done you find his eyes and ask, "Alright, what's the surprise?"

Sunwoo smiles big and wide, pleased by the outcome of this and says, "We're going to dinner!"

You shoot up from your lazy position, adrenaline and horror flooding beneath your skin.

"We're what!?"

"Don't worry so much! I have a spot, a kind of best kept secret among idols for where to go when you don't want to be bothered and definitely don't want to be seen. It's very discreet, much more so than the places we used to meet."

In the moment, all you can manage to give as a response is a slow, exhausted drawl of his name.

"You should trust me more! I wouldn't do something to put either of us at risk of something that will make things much worse for us."

"You literally have! You do! What was that stint backstage? The place was crawling with staff and our members and that certainly didn't stop you."

Sunwoo hums thoughtfully for a second and then, seemingly accepting defeat, says, "Okay, fair enough, but I was desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures! Besides, I wouldn't do it again, which is precisely why I have instead gone out of my way to arrange something smarter and safer." He extends an arm out, flops his hand in the air in your direction despite not being able to actually reach you. "I know you think I'm crazy and too risky, and that's kind of true, but I'm trying to reel it in for you! Is it a crime to want to see you more than just in the hallways of the company building?"

Looking at him and the subsequent pout that's now sitting on his face, you relent just a bit to his thoughtful intent. He's doing his best, even if it's simply not very good. 

And besides, he looks far too cute when he's pouting like this.

"No, it's not, but also… I don't know how good of an idea it is that we be given more private time, all things considered as of recent."

"Arguably, that's precisely why we need more private time." Sunwoo grins and then says, "If it's going to keep happening, then it should most definitely be more private."

Sunwoo's chumminess with his manager is something you have known for a while now, though you've never quite seen it in action with this much clarity.

The van comes to a stop in a narrow, unlit alleyway. There is so little space that you and Sunwoo have no other option than to shimmy your bodies between the concrete walls and the vehicle itself, and upon reaching the drivers side window, it rolls down and the man behind the wheel firmly informs the two of you that you have thirty minutes, and not a second longer will be spent here.

It's for the best, because Miyoung is at home and expecting your return. Already, you will need to think of an alibi for your lateness, but at the very least, you always have the Seoul roadways to blame when the time spent lost in transit is not so egregious.

Only a few steps are needed to reach the entrance, and after offering a couple of knocks to the door, it swings open and the two of you are met by a pretty young woman dressed all in black. She smiles and steps to the side so that you can go inside, but before you do, Sunwoo turns back to look at you and with a familiar slighted grin you have seen so many times before says, "Just like old times."

Not quite, you think in response.

Inside of the building, the lights are so dim that you find difficulty in navigating what lies ahead of you. 

Quickly you make your way past the kitchen and restrooms, into an area that is small, cramped, and filled with small rooms that have tables inside. All of them offer a curtain in front, and on your way through you glance inside one of them and make brief eye contact with a well-known actress sitting with her male companion for the evening.

Anxiety heightens within you, but just as it does you find that you have reached your destination.

With a smile that never falters, the hostess offers your table and both you and Sunwoo take seats opposite of each other. The curtain is closed, and even though you seem to be surrounded by people with what may be even bigger secrets than the two of you hold, you cannot help but feel that tumultuous twisting deep inside of your stomach.

The one thing that dwindles it, however, is a single glance towards Sunwoo. His sweatshirt is oversized much like his jeans and with a simple set of glasses clinging to his face, he almost looks like a simple, regular guy. Granted, much more handsome, but regular nonetheless.

Drinks arrive soon after, and once the woman takes her leave you look at Sunwoo once again and ask, "So, I take it you've been here before?"

A corner of his lip twists upwards and as he brings the glass to his face he says, "Sure have."

"I suppose that's promising, since I haven't heard anything about that before."

"Jealous? Thinking about all of the stuff I might have been getting up to before we met?"

You roll your eyes. "You're the jealous one between the two of us, not me."

Sunwoo folds his hands together atop the table and leans himself over it closer towards you. He appears far too amused by the events that have transpired up until now, and despite knowing you are in fairly safe hands here, you feel a chill crawl over your skin given the close proximity and your limited privacy.

"We'll see about that," he says, and then sits back normally against his chair. "I have a drama coming up, shooting begins soon. I wanted to tell you the good news in person, figured it was something worthy of a little celebration."

Your face lights up. "That's amazing news, and absolutely worth celebrating! No wonder you dragged me out here like this, and here I thought your intentions were always going to be something nefarious."

An eyebrow perks up, questioning and suspicious. He says, "My intentions are never nefarious, I just want to spend time with you." Sunwoo shrugs the tangential topic off and then continues on with the previous point. "Anyway, it's a pretty big deal for me. I don't have a lot of acting experience so I'm a little nervous about it, but what's really exciting is that it's a romance."

"That sounds perfect for you, honestly. The bad boy schtick never really did land with you, not for anyone who has known you for longer than ten minutes."

"You're being annoying but I'm going to ignore that in favor of mentioning the fact that there's going to be a kiss scene."

You don't like the way hearing that makes you feel.

It's acting. It is only as real as the physicality of ensuring that a scene is properly displayed to the viewer in whichever way it is intended to be. The logical part of your brain begins to work overtime in an effort to explain your feelings on this away, and while it helps a tiny bit, there is still an inkling of unfortunate displeasure lingering heavily in the center of your chest.

After a stiff sip of your drink, you place it back down on the table, force a smile that does little to sell the point and say, "I'm sure you're delighted by that fact."

"Should I be?"

Exhausted by this already, you sigh in an effort to express as much. "I don't know, Sunwoo. Should you? Are you? What difference does it make, it's your job. I doubt you're going to have that hard of a time kissing a beautiful woman on camera." 

He appears far too pleased by all of this once you have finished with your statement. More than that, Sunwoo leans over the table once again, folds his fingers together and while looking you dead in the eye he says, "I think it's about due time for an honest discussion about things going forward."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Your skin feels like it's on fire, throat dry as a result of the intense stare that Sunwoo has captured you in. He is rarely serious—especially this much so—but you know him well enough to know precisely when the switch has flipped from something light and comical to something far more urgent and necessary. These moments are uncommon; Sunwoo prefers to communicate in efforts and actions rather than words, so if he says it's time to talk, then you can only imagine what is waiting for you on the other side of it.

"It means…" he starts, drawing out the word at the end, "That I want to see you, and I think I've made that pretty obvious for a while now, but with it laid out plainly like this you aren't going to be able to deflect or pretend that you don't know. You're just going to have to face it head-on. We both are."

Sunwoo's voice is surprisingly firm when he says it, a stark difference to your own racing heart and shaky exhales as you do your best to steady yourself in the heaviness of his confession. He's right—right about all of it—a jagged pill to swallow going forward because just as intended, Sunwoo has trapped you in a circumstances where you cannot escape this, you can't run away and pretend that you do not know the thing that you very much do know, and frankly, have known for a while.

The problem therein is less with your understanding of him, and more with your inability to find the strength to cut free of the shackles of terror that bind you and meet him anywhere close to halfway.

Your lips part, though no words leave them immediately. Thoughts swim in your mind so muddled and messy that it's difficult to understand where one starts and another begins. You have to answer him, you have to reply, and all the while his gaze towards you never falters.

"I…" You stop, take a deep breath and then go on to say, "I'm terrified. I'm scared of the risk, scared of getting caught… I…" Another pause follows, because the thing that you want to say is something that you have never dared to utter to another person ever before. Now or never, you suppose. As good of a time as any, and if nothing else, Sunwoo deserves the honesty in exchange for his own. "I want to, but I'm just fucking scared."

"I know that, but as fun as stealing risky kisses is, not even I'm delusional enough to think we can keep getting away with it forever. At some point we're just going to have to make a decision… A decision to do this, or to not do it, and then put it to bed forever if that's the case."

Matching him, you lean across the table and close more of the space hanging between you. Like this, the two of you are so close to one another, but Sunwoo does not falter in any way despite your proximity.

"Why now? I just debuted, we have a comeback in less than a week… Why does it have to be now? Can't this wait until my group is a little bit more established? Until something like this being found out might not be the complete ruination of mine and the other girls' lives?"

"Is it fair to ask me to wait for a day that might not ever come?" Sunwoo asks, and along with it, he slowly stands and closes more of the space between you. "Are you asking me to wait forever?" His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his face inching closer to yours. "Because I might, if you do."

Sunwoo kisses you then, and for the first time, the worry of who might be around to see it completely melts away.

Caked in stage-ready make-up, you look at yourself in the mirror and for a moment, you don't even recognize the person staring back at you.

It's been days since your last meeting with Sunwoo and the conversation that was carried out. The words have sat in your mind ever since—will you, or won't you—but the thought of making a decision leaves you paralyzed. The answer is an obvious one if not for the extenuating circumstances that you've now found yourself in; a chance at something that you never thought you would be able to have now waiting in your grasp, waiting for you to throw all caution to the wind and just say yes. 

But you have no other option than to make a decision based on the worst possible case scenario, and based on the responses from your stint on Idol Radio, you're simply unsure it's a risk that you're willing to take.

Lukewarm is the best way to put it, though surprisingly, the displeased responses are less about you, and more about Sunwoo. Many onlookers question his presentation of the topic in relation to your history together in general, and frankly, you don't really blame them.

You are lauded for responding well, professional and polite and it would appear that most do not press beyond it to see what might be hiding within the shadows. One commenter says that you can hardly even tell that she was ever his fan, and at the very least, it's an amusing take considering all that is going on behind the scenes.

Now, like so many other times, you have to put all of these thoughts behind you and prepare for your comeback showcase. MVNE are ready, standing by for their call and doing last minute fixes on headset microphones and appearances, but only a few minutes stand between your group and the start of the show. Will it be received well? you wonder to yourself, such a drastic change in song already when compared to your debut.

And there are already extenuating circumstances hanging overhead. Hyemi's small mishap and now yours. Things that someone, somewhere, will always make a point to mention should their intent be to disparage and destroy.

A woman on the staff knocks and then swiftly opens the door to tell you and the other girls that it's time, and thus, you all shuffle out of the room and to the backstage area in wait.

The staff on hand for this event is much smaller, and so the area offers far more room for comfort than that of busy festivals. You make your way out and navigate towards the stage, but not before catching the eye of someone that you have grown rather fond of over the past few months.

With cue cards in hand and slicked back black hair, Juyeon cocks his head in a delighted sort of way and greets you pleasantly.

"Nervous?"

You shake your head. "Not any more than the usual amount, but I suppose there is always reason for moderate concern. What if I break an ankle?"

"I don't think most jump straight to that. You're going to be great, I'm looking forward to it." He dangles the cue cards in hand with a smile and says, "Lucky me, wrestling the MC spot out of Hyunjae's clutches."

"You know, there's enough of you that the chances of getting someone I'm friendly with are rather low. Starting to believe you're becoming a fan."

Juyeon smiles and then says, "Oh, of course I am."

A staff member calls for him, he gives his last good lucks and goodbyes, and off he goes to begin the show.

With barely a moment going by between them, Nara steps up beside you with nervous hands and shaky eyes.

"What?" you insist, the evidence of something on her mind painted onto her features in ways you've not quite seen from her before.

She swallows hard. "Uh, you seem close to Juyeon." 

Oh no. This is really the last thing you need, all things considered. It's bad enough that Woori seems intent on believing that your circumstances with Sunwoo are spiraling out of control, but on top of it, her eye is keen enough to spot a budding interest in Juyeon, as well. Regardless of what that may, or may not, entail currently. 

Must you hardness all interactions you have with the people around you, even amongst your own band members and friends? Is it truly an impossibility to merely have a friendship with someone like Juyeon without it being placed under a microscope for dissecting? If Juyeon were less handsome, less desired, less personable; would this still be a problem you are now meant to deal with?

It's not even like that. At least, you are fairly sure of the fact.

Your hands fly up, waving around wildly in front of you. "Oh, no! We're just… We worked together not long ago, you know? It's not anything like—"

"I wasn't suggesting that, actually." Nara's fingers pick at the skin around her nails nervously, a habit frowned upon by the staff intent on keeping all of the members in tip-top physical appearance. You've never seen her like this, and before she begins to state the fact, you're already beginning to realize where it is that she is going with this. "I'm saying this because… Well, I'm curious about what you know about him. If he's seeing anyone right now, if maybe…"

"You're interested."

"Of course I'm interested!" Nara bites back, all but flying off the handle at the obvious statement. She quickly reels her reaction in, presses closer to you and drops to a whisper to say, "Who wouldn't be interested? Anyway, don't make a big deal about it! I'm just wondering."

Your heart sinks, and you're not quite sure what to make of that. Juyeon is your friend, and you have more than enough on your plate already with a man that desperately wishes for you to take the plunge like it appears that so many others surrounding you are perfectly willing and happy to take. Why is Nara so willing to risk it for a man that she barely even knows? you question yourself. Why are you completely unwilling to give that to someone who begs for it? 

However, it is not your job to reprimand Nara for her consideration. You are not the leader, you are her peer, and with this in mind you have no other option than to make a neutral choice.

With a pointed effort to steady yourself, you clear your throat and then say, "He's not seeing anyone, not to my knowledge, at least."

"Is he nice? He seems nice, if you're friends with him."

"Yeah, Juyeon is very easy to get along with. Very mature, he's not really anything like what he presents on stage."

Nara smiles wide hearing the news, and you wish you could feel even a fraction of the joy that she is in that moment.

"Maybe you could put in a good word for me," she says. "You know, something small. Something that might get him to see me."

The lights dim on stage, the sound system loudly booms to life, and you couldn't be more thankful for the jarring interruption.

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do."

But truthfully, the only thing you have any intention of doing is messaging Sunwoo as soon as you can possibly manage it.

It's a little past eleven at night and you are wearing sunglasses.

Not just sunglasses, but two jackets with both hoods pulled over your head and a scarf. Granted, it's a bit cold outside, and maybe you can get away with dressing in such a way that doesn't draw too much attention. Is it overkill? Perhaps, but you're not really willing to take any chances.

To add to the already ridiculous situation you have landed yourself in, you're a few glasses of celebratory wine in and feeling a bit bolder than you usually might. A little dizzy and a lot loose as far as decision making goes. Nobody knows where you are, at least, not yet.

You knock on the door.

The time between doing so and the door opening feels like forever, but you aren't an anticipated guest and you have to imagine that there is a kind of due diligence that must be done when it comes to unexpected visitors. You look around the halls to ensure that the coast remains clear, and then finally, the door cracks apart.

His eyes are wide, obviously surprised by your standing there. Really, who can blame him?

Smiling awkwardly, you say, "Hi, uh…"

Younghoon blinks a couple of times but doesn't immediately say anything, either. He turns to look behind him, looks back at you and then says, "You should probably get inside."

You walk in, slowly begin disrobing from all of the excess things covering your body, and then hear Chanhee let out a cackle as he peeks around the corner to see what all of the fuss is about.

Fair enough.

He yells for Sunwoo shortly after, though he does not offer additional info in doing so. You hear a door down the hall swing open, then hurried footsteps following it.

Sunwoo enters the open space, turns to look towards the door to find you, and his eyes widen like he has just seen a ghost.

"You…" he begins slowly, like he isn't quite sure what to make of what he is seeing. "Are here."

"Yeah, sure would seem to be the case, wouldn't it?"

Younghoon remains awkwardly perched by the door, and upon closing it, covers his ears and makes his way out of the line of fire.

"I don't know what this is but I don't want any part of it. I'm just going to pretend I haven't seen nor heard anything and that's going to be the end of that."

Sunwoo moves towards you, takes you by the wrist and says, "He's right, the less they know, the better."

Once inside of Sunwoo's room he offers you his seat at his desk, and takes it upon himself to settle at the edge of his bed. You've never been here before—never imagined you would be—but now that you are, it feels incredibly surreal to experience.

There's a game up on the computer monitor and a couple of empty glasses littering the table. Some pieces of clothing litter the floor, but not nearly as bad as you might have expected when deciding to show up here.

"A message would have been good," Sunwoo says.

"Kind of a last minute thing."

"Those comeback drinks hitting especially hard tonight, huh?"

You shoot him a sort of mocking expression and say, "If I had known you were going to be annoying about it I wouldn't have come at all."

Chuckling a little, Sunwoo says, "That's not true, you absolutely knew I was going to be annoying about it, which begs the question…" There's a brief passing of silence between you, as if he hopes that you'll pick up the other half without his prompting, but when you don't, he proceeds. "Why are you here?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure, myself."

"Is that the truth?"

Sunwoo's voice is soft and careful as he says it, as if presenting something to the both of you that still remains unspoken. Inside of yourself, you do know the truth, but still you dance around it as if continuing to do so will change the fact of the matter. With your hands folded in your lap, you look down at them, inhaling slowly before choosing the words that you intend to move forward with.

"What's wrong with wanting to see my—"

"Don't say your friend," Sunwoo interjects, his gaze on you firm and resolute. "We're not friends, we haven't been for a long time. People don't take risks like this for their friends, idols don't dress up like they've taken bank robbery advice from movies to visit their friends."

You close your eyes and let the words sink in. You think of Nara and her interest in Juyeon—wonder if she would be willing to do this for a chance to spend time with him—the conversation from earlier still heavy on your shoulders as if only just having happened.

"How are you not mortified by your own existence?" you ask him, voice shaky as the words leave your lips. "How are you not terrified by what you've seen happen to other people in the industry? How can you just… Throw all caution to the wind and be willing to let the pieces fall where they may?"

Looking at you, Sunwoo's lips thin into what can only be described as an adoring smile. He watches you in silence for a few moments, truly taking in the sight of you being there and vulnerable with him. Bad boy schtick be damned, he never did quite sell it as what was meant to be intended.

"We're not the first idols to date," he says quietly, "and we sure as hell won't be the last. For every one couple that gets found out, there's ten that never do. You just have to make sure you're a part of the ten."

"It's becoming harder and harder to say no to you, you make it all sound so easy."

Sunwoo shrugs, all nonchalant about the whole thing and says, "Well, it's not exactly rocket science, you know? But it'd be a lot easier if you didn't make me resort to stealing you away backstage where anyone could just wander by."

"No one makes you do that!"

"You do!" he says, pointing a finger. "Your waffling is what's making this harder! Just jump!"

Exasperated, you let out a heavy sigh and fight back by saying, "I'm here, aren't I?"

Another grin pulls at his lips, and slowly he brings himself up from the bed and towards you. Sunwoo's hands grip at the edge of his desk and box you into place beneath him, his face mere inches away from your own. "Yes, yes you are."

"We could ruin a lot of lives if this goes wrong."

Pressing forward, Sunwoo's breath is warm against the skin of your cheek, and with his lips only ghosting against your own he says, "Then we just have to make sure that it doesn't."

When his mouth finds yours, it's softer than all of the other times. There is no urgency behind it, no time limit sitting at the back of either of your minds as you allow yourself to succumb to it. Instead, this time you revel in the feeling; your worries falling away with every gentle nip of his teeth against your bottom lip.

Satisfied, Sunwoo leisurely creates space between you once again and says, "By the way, we've started filming for my drama, might need all of the practice I can get." He steals another swift kiss and then pulls away entirely in favor of happily spinning himself back to his previous position on his bed. "So, you can think of it like it's work. Actor training, and all that."

With a racing heart and electric nerves, you try to steady your thoughts enough to give anything close to a coherent response. Your phone vibrates, which almost certainly cannot be anything good, and messily digging it out of your pocket with shaky hands you say, "You want me to be your training dummy for kissing another woman? How romantic."

Sunwoo's face drops and twists into a pout. "Well, it's not when you put it like that." His attention turns to the device in your hand then and he says, "Who's messaging you?"

And you desperately wish he hadn't asked upon seeing the name pop up in your notifications.

Unfortunately, your physical reaction betrays you, and Sunwoo is far too in tuned with the goings on in front of him to not notice the shift. He squints a little as he waits for your reply, a once innocent question he has posed now morphing into knowledge that he has acquired and seeks more of.

"It's nothing," you say. "It's not important."

"Not what I asked!" He leaps out of his seat and towards you, grasping at your phone in order to get a peek of the screen. You do your best to keep it away from him; limbs flying about and giggles filling the air on account of how ridiculous this has all become. With it expertly placed behind your back and Sunwoo's hand wrapped around the wrist that keeps it from him, he pushes his face close to yours again and says, "You're being super dodgy about this, which you wouldn't be if it was one of the girls. That only means…"

Sunwoo kisses you again, this time harder and with much more intent behind the action. His free hand slips down to rest atop your thigh—you know precisely the angle he's going for—yet it does little to grant you the ability to remain firm in your defenses.

After all, he is stronger than you, and he uses this to his advantage in yanking you up from the seat, spinning you to hold your back to his chest, and turning your arm so that the screen is on full display to the both of you.

It lights up, the notification looks so much bigger than you remember it being. You're projecting, sure, but it's really not the best time for this.

Not that it's even anything, of course.

"Oh!"

You feel Sunwoo reel physically from behind you, though his grip on you doesn't let up. Instead, his head dips down so that his chin rests on your shoulder and with his face right beside your own he says, "Pretty late in the night to be getting messages from a guy." Letting go, Sunwoo spins you around to face him, crosses his arms over his chest and glares at you. "Not really ever a good time to be getting messages from him, if you ask me."

"We're just friends."

"So were we! So you'll have to forgive me for kind of knowing where that whole thing leads!"

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a sigh. "It's different. Juyeon and I have never… Anything, and he has given me no reason to believe that he might, unlike some incredibly demanding people that I know!"

Sunwoo points a finger at you again, and if there were any intention to say something in that very moment, he ultimately swallows it down in favor of not saying anything of the sort. He is clearly disbelieving to some degree, though you can't quite fathom why given the circumstances at play. Ultimately, you know well enough that jealousy makes itself something of a mainstay in every fiber of his being, and beginning to traverse new, previously uncharted waters as far as you are concerned is the lifeblood of that exact inclination.

"We're just friends," you repeat. "One of my members is interested, though."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Thinking over the question, you do your best to settle on something that is honest and thorough. You don't like it, and there is a whirlwind of feelings inside of you in relation to it that you haven't completely been able to parse through just yet. New information that requires attentiveness that you haven't been able to give it, but you do know one thing about it all.

"Annoyed." Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you look at Sunwoo like you're a little bit defeated by it all and shrug with exaggeration. "Why am I the only one who cares? Why am I the only one willing to make myself smaller so that the rest can grow?"

"I don't think that's true," Sunwoo reasons, and extending his arm out, he gently pulls your hand into his. "But I do think you have somewhat unrealistic expectations of it all, because of your background in all of this. I know you feel like there's a target on your back—and that's not entirely untrue—but you can't just… Not live your life. No one else is doing that. They never really have. It's pretend, everybody is just making it up."

"Isn't idol 101 not dating?"

The expression that comes across Sunwoo's face is one of being humored by the words, but alongside of it sits a small hint of doting patronizing.

Shaking his head, he says, "No, man. Idol 101 is simply not getting caught doing it."

[dabuggh3]

Heyyy Can you write smth cutesie abt picking hamzah up after he gets too overwhelmed at comic con. I couldn’t stop thinking abt it the whole time watching it was rly funny😭😭😭 Please and Thank you

HIII YESS, no because when I was watching the video and I literally started getting anxious because of how overwhelmed he was. I paused the video😭. But anyways thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoyyy!!💗

Hamzah calls you to come pick him up from comic con because they were done shooting the video for slushynoobz. You get in your car and head over, you arrive and he gets in the car. The first couple mins were quiet, “ So how did it go?, did you like it?”. “ uh it was good there were so sooo many people on one of the floors it was actually crazy, we had to sit down for literally half of it” You look over at him and he was holding something.

“ What did you buy?” He looks down and starts bursting out laughing as he shows you, my little pony oven mitts. “ Hamzahhh” you say laughing. “ Waitttt, okay me and Martin were passing by and there was just like a huge ass stack and we were like what’s this, and we started talking shit and the lady was like oh they’re home made, they’re home made like 5 times, and idk what came over me and I just bought them.”

“ They’re kindaaa cute” you say looking at them. “ I wasted like 30 dollarssss, I saved 5 dollars tho, we bargained with the lady ” he says smiling. “ 30 dollars is actually crazy, but they’re homemade remember”. “ Stoppp, oh my god and someone called Martin the skinniest Spiderman they’ve ever seennn”. You laugh , “ that’s so meann”.

“Babe I swear I was looking at some people and I literally wanted to gag so bad I don’t even know why”. He continues talking then he goes silent, just staring at you,“ What’s wrong” “ You’re so pretty you’re glowingggg” he says admiring you. You turn and smile at him. “Even on shrooms, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen”

For the rest of the drive he continues talking, pointing at random signs, and telling you what he’s seeing. You guys arrive, parking into you’re apartment complex, “ Yea and Martin went over and asked him for a hug and I was like boy he don’t want no dam hug from youu, the guy looked so scared I recorded it.” You both laugh so hard, “ Okay we’re here let’s go” “ Huh, I swear the car was still moving”

You guys enter the apartment, and Hamzah changes then plops down on the couch. “ Do you wanna eat something orrr” “ No I’m okay I’ll eat later” “ Okay” you walk over and sit next to him, “ Want to watch something” you look over at him as he sits with his head back eyes closed, “ uhhh yea,” he opens his eyes and turns looking at you. He smiles and leans over to kiss you. He then positions himself, laying on your chest. “ Do you wanna watch Arcaneee??” You say in an excited tone.“ Yesssss” he says smiling.

You and Hamzah lay on the couch as you rub his back. And he keeps pointing out random stuff from the show that he’s never noticed, “ wait was that always there I swear it wasn’t”. 30 minutes pass by and while laying down, you feel his stomach growl. “ Babe are you sure you’re not hungry?” “ No” “ I literally felt you’re stomach growl right now, ima go make you something” you try getting up. Hamzah holds onto you harder while making himself heavier, “ I’m not hungry, don’t leave” he says muffled because his face is buried in your chest. “ I’ll take like 20 mins and I’ll be right back, I’m literally right here next to you in the kitchen”. “ No”. “ Okay then come with me”

Eventually Hamzah agrees and comes with you to the kitchen. You end up making him a sandwich. While making it Hamzah is just hugging you from behind, watching. “ Are you sure the mayo’s not expired, it’s kinda a weird color” “ No it’s not, trust me”. You finish and go back on the couch. Hamzah sits back down and eats his sandwich. He then goes on a whole rant how Martin didn’t want to finish watching Arcane and he’s missing out. Then he starts talking about the slushies, “ I hope they actually enjoy the video, I feel like we looked so dumb” he laughs. “ Nooo, they’ll enjoy it dont worry”. Eventually he starts getting tired so he starts quieting down and ends up falling asleep.

I hope this isn’t horrible 😭.

[007-nightfire-yakuza-agent]

recording ppl in public laws are rly far behind the times. like yeah im not happy abt cctv being everywhere but at least i can expect that a gym, coffee shop, whatever won't share its cctv footage online. itd be tricky to figure out legally but ppl rly should have lawful recourse for being recorded in public without consent. i would probably wig out if i saw a stranger in a coffee shop filming me.

[jelly-of-many-ships]

COMPLETE OFMD S2 CONTENT LIST:

To anyone looking for a complete list of trailers, vids, and photos released for OFMD season 2, here ya go.

(I’m not rly active on anything other than tumblr rn so i’m sry if I missed smth)

! LINKS CONTAIN SPOILERS !

So, first of all we have the official teaser trailer, released on August 30th: TEASER LINK

On September 14th we finally got the full length trailer. I’m assuming we’ve all seen these already: TRAILER LINK

There was a promo vid containing new s2 scenes that some people were getting on their TVs and recording and uploading to twitter. What some people don’t know is that that the official OFMD facebook account recently uploaded the same promo thats actually good quality and not just recording off a tv screen. Anyways if there’s a scene you’ve been seeing but it wasn’t in the trailer or teaser, its probably here: PROMO VID LINK

Here’s the links to some of those twitter vids if you don’t know what i’m talking about: twitter vid, twitter vid, These have the same content as the facebook link, just shitty quality.

Oh also Vico Ortez (plays Jim) posts a lot of s2 things on their tiktok. Nothing with spoilers just BTS (not the k-pop band I swear to god) I guess this doesn’t count but some of it’s rly funny: Vico Ortez tiktok

PHOTOS:

The first batch of season 2 photos we got were from Vanity fair on august 24th, but those photos plus a bunch of others are now available together somewhere i’ll say in a sec. Here is the article that showed us the first look at s2: VANITY FAIR ARTICLE

So, warner bros discovery gave us an *almost* complete collection of currently released photos. This does include the vanity fair photos but most of these you can’t find anywhere else. they say which episode every photo is from and let you download them too which is pretty cool. The site also has some great articles in the media releases section but they’re not that relevant. Go to the images section to see the s2 pics: S2 PHOTO COLLECTION

The final thing I found was the exclusive photo “The Streamr” posted on twitter. In fact there’s this whole thing happening with the OFMD twitter fandom and The Streamr and apparently they’ve posted exclusive photos that aren’t in the Warner Bros collection. Once again I am not actively on twitter so I don’t really know that much. I was only able to find one exclusive image posted by them but if there are any more please let me know. THE STREAMR EXCLUSIVE PHOTO

EDIT: found another photo on twitter! YET ANOTHER EXCLUSIVE PHOTO

EDIT: There’s a S2 behind the scenes vid from the max YouTube channel and it’s got so many extra clips it’s practically a third trailer!!! Also apparently there are some more articles that just released and I’m a bit busy rn but I’ll find and add them soon behind the scenes vid

EDIT: OMG THE MAX YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED A SCENE FROM EPISODE 1 AND IZZYS CRYING AND THE CREW IS COMFORTING HIM ITS CANON S2E1 SCENE

that is all that I personally know of but if there is anything else you think should be included please add it or lmk, I want this to be a complete list. If anything new comes out I will try my best to add that as well.

I was pretty confused where everyone was getting all the s2 info and I couldn’t find a complete list anywhere so I decided to make my own. hope this cleared it up for anyone else🤗

[cool-person-yey]

YOU KNOW THE DRILL TMAGP NOTES 23!!!

• that title is not concerning. not at all pffft not at all.

• ik it was written by harlan so im hyped

• * ominous music * my beloved

• * office noises * hehe

• hello sam my beloved

• hello lena my dear

• oh the response department!!

• Sam why do you keep doing that cmonnn

• " I just want to know how deep the rabbit hole goes" yeah yeah yeah sure

• oh! chester

• heyy forum thread again

• oh hey nice I guess

• peace right? please tell me they're not saying piece

• oh they are aren't they

• voice is more human!

• you have to be sneaky huh

• oh relationship problem yippee

• so very much alive.

• aquariums are very cool though I agree

• I hope that's an emoji and not :) bcuz if :) ever appears it better be read as two dots parentheses

• oh I relate so hard

• the trans experience right here

• wait who's he

• sorry gamers the auditory isn't processing today

• hahaha wdym is it safe

• oh no I dont think it's going to go well

• it bled a lot hmm that does not seen good

• secret?

• oh that's. that's ominously sweet?

• I'm sorry what???

• you're not?? feeling it??

• oh no

• OH NO

• I mean it does sound cool but oh my

• EYES MENTION

• keep your name,,,

• this is. so trans codded. or is it just my trans ass seeing it everywhere

• the surname being Newman is fucking hilarious

• hi why suddenly everybody commented

• haha sorry what

• oh no not the locked thread again

• who dat

• opening the transcripts

• Celia and Sam!

• he rly called Jon a basic bitch

• try searching for martin k blackwood next

• elsewhere??

• BASIRA??? HELEN???

• we got the whole gang now we just need Melanie???

• hey Gwen

• no you're not <3

• oh no

• hey Alice

• yeah you're totally fine Gwen definitely

• the moments I've dropped my mug wasn't fun

• freak in the sheets Alice mug is not canon then

• she's really dropping everything

• yes of course hide your actual feelings behind jokes haha

• HOW MANY EYES??? TAPE RECORDER??? FUCK OFF

• NO

• OH FUCK ME

see y'all next Thursday if I don't die

[ca-suffit]

I never believed Rolin Jones when he said that Louis will be treated differently in the show from what the books had done. I agree with you when you say that we shouldn't worry ahead of time, but we should also be aware that the core audience is primarily interested in Lestat and they consider Louis as the trophy wife he will get after all his adventures and other flings have run their course. Amc and the showrunners know this too. Rolin said that what drew him to the project was the idea of adapting TVL. He talks about leaving the memory is a monster behind and "set the record straight" with Lestat front and center. He called Louis a supporting character not a co-lead. What hope is there that he will not act accordingly?

The part of this that a lot of ppl leave out for why fans already feel anxious about this (and I think I've done it too until now, so that's on me as well) is that the show made an obvious pivot to white fans only ahead of S2....and nobody has said why that's happened.

They focused on inviting the blandest white fans who can't talk about the show in depth at *all* (and contribute to the racist bullying happening in the fandom) to the S2 premiere, they got rid of the podcast for again a bland white person who doesn't discuss racial topics ever, the *show* stopped talking about it as well, despite the writing of the episodes still getting into heavy shit about it. This feeling of panic doesn't come from nothing and no amount of posting quotes about how much the show loves louis is gonna fix that bcuz we're on the back of *all* of this too.

I mean, I still don't want ppl to doom spiral when we have prbly a long time to wait to see what's rly going on with all of this. I'm trusting them about louis as far as possible rn. but it is annoying how p much everyone else is responding to these concerns condescendingly as if there's not already been a *lot* of fuckery happening that's removing blackness from all spaces it used to exist before.

The marketing otherwise for S3 does follow the books, in that that's exactly what TVL is written for, as a response to IWTV. It's just that IRL it's on the back of *all* of this crap too, so it feels a lot worse in all of that context and like I said, there's been no acknowledgment or reassurance from the show on any of these topics. It's not like any of their favored fans are gonna be the ones to fucking ask either.

[akaikali]

TMAGP EP 10 REACTION (SPOILERS)

WAIT OH MY GOD. DID THEY USE MR. BONZO AT THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE FOR THEIR CHILD EXPERIMENTS???? ALSO THIS IS VERY GIVING ANNABELLE CANE CHILDREN'S TV SHOW.

MR. BONZO???? NIGEL DICKERSON???? This is strange especially after last ep Gwen was just told to go find Nigel Dickerson. I wonder who's seeing this case reading.

HELLO??? IS THAT THE MAN BEHIND THE SLAUGHTER???? KILLING PEOPLE IN A COSTUME?????

Oh my God hello???? "Why won't he let me go??" INTERESTING. IS MR. BONZO GONNA BE LIKE. A THING.

COLIN???? HE SOUNDS???? BETTER??????

Oh never mind he's still trying to kill the puters.

"Sam there us honestly nowhere I'd rather be than here with you." ALICE RIZZ DAMN GIRLLLLL

Hmm interesting that this one just...Played for Celia. Coincidentally at the same time Gwen is going to confront Nigel. And with Celia's curious nature, well... I think we might see some more Celia and Gwen?? Maybe??? Also no puter voices for Celia???

"Ow" okay that was adorable Sam

"Carved floor in the big atrium" HEY WHAT HELLO???? ARE THERE SYMBOLS OR SOMETHING??? PERHAPS OF THE FEARS???

OH MY GOD GWEN. SHE BABYGIRLED TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN.

ALICE IS SO WEAK FOR SAM AKSHAJFBE

"I'm sorry for this" FOR CALLING A FUCKING MURDEROUS CLOWN ON ME???? FUCK OFF BONZO????

"Can he read???" Oh this is "You don't sound Russiam?" coded

Okay yeah so. So. So yeah. Like I. Okay yeah I get why Lena is doing what she is. But also like. Hey what is Bonzo exactly bc that sure doesn't seem like a human! And also exactly who is he going to kill?

WAIT. WAIT WAIT WAIT. TAPE RECORDERS IN AN OFFICE??? ARCHIE??? ARCHIVE? OH MY GOD THIS IS TOO MUCH.

Also does Nigel just. Have a pet murderous clown now. Is that what's happening. Reading.

OTHERWORLDLY POWER????

"Gosh ur sexy" YEAH YOU ARE ALICE

"Why they chose us...Why they didn't choose me" hmMmMMmmMm my theory about Sam being the opposite of Jon is popping off. Jon never chose to be an avatar but I feel like Sam might chose to be something...Not an avatar but SOMETHING.

Alice PLEASE BABYGIRL. YOU'RE SO OBVIOUS.

IM SORRY. THE TRAPDOOR???? WHAT?????? SOMEONE IS BREATHING???? SO THE HOLE IMPLIES THE TUNNELS STILL EXIST WHICH BY PROXY MEANS THE PANOPTICON MIGHT STILL EXIST??? AND THE TRAPDOOR EXISTING. I DONT EVEN KNOW MAN WHAT THE FUCK.

I JUST CHECKED THE AUDIO CREDITS AND BETH EYRE??? AS IN LUCIA WRIGHT BETH EYRE???? AS IN MISS MA'AM WHO ESCAPED THE FLESH RITUAL AND TOLD GERTRUDE ABOUT IT????

AND NOW WE GOT NOTHING FOR THE NEXT 4 WEEKS YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME RUSTY QUILL IM GONNA GO INSANE-

Edit: MY DUMB ASS MISSED THE WORM TRACK COMMENT HEY ALICE WHAT THE FUCK. HEY I RLY HOPS JANE PRENTISS IS NOT WORMING AROUND. I WANT HER TO BE HAPPY AND LOVED.

[86future]

Finished rewatching Devilman Crybaby this time w the added context of having actually read Devilman and while I enjoyed it more this time round (I deeply h8ed it my first watch lol) all my criticism still stands! Some of it is a matter of personal taste IE I dislike the designs but even within that there’s some objectivity—I think the way the show draws and animates bodies can be quite uncomfortable when you take into account how animalistic it makes Akira, who is notably tanner than Ryo who is like pale and prim and In Control of his emotions. I suppose this is contrasted w him being literally Satan but it still feels gross. Speaking of: darker skin tones were rly gray and washed out and that sucks. Idk I think the show is pretty weird about race in general! The rap stuff was rly cool as a device but also complicated this further. Also wtf was up w Ryo and that like… was it a native tribe? Idk. Strange stuff!

I think also that Devilman absolutely is a series that needs to have a lot of sex and violence bc that’s sort of what made it so huge in the 70s—it was some of the most violent shit ppl had seen! But I think that for a show made in 2018 u can’t rly do that just for the sake of having a lot sex and violence. You should prolly be trying to actually say smth w it this time lol. So idk a lot of that fell flat for me! However I do think there were times were it tried to do smth—I think the arc w the guy who takes pics of teen girls modeling bikini outfits and him also being the guy who films Akira’s transformation and that video being viewed w the photos of the girls behind it was rly rly rly fascinating. Esp w Ryo also having a lot of moments where he’s recording Akira and keeping tabs on him. The use of cameras and voyeurism was really cool and I wish we’d gotten more of it.

I thought some of the changes + new stuff were interesting and actually added quite a bit! I thought the old Devilman tv show existing in-universe was so fucking cool. And I’m glad Miki had more to do lol and the stuff w her and Miko added another layer—the manga rly only focuses on Ryo and Akira and yea Miki’s there but doesn’t get to be a character bc yk. 70s manga. So that was nice I liked her :) she’s my friend. And Ryo and Akira actually being childhood friends this time was p interesting. The stuff w the super high schooler being gay and Akira trying to get thru to him w that also was rly good imo

I think prolly my biggest criticism tonally is that, like…. wasn’t Ryo Asuka. He’s one of the most iconic chars ever so I think you rlyyyy need to get him right in order to pull devilman off and I don’t think show did! Idk I think Ryo was p cruel the whole time so when he regained his memories there wasn’t rly a shift. In the manga when Ryo outs Akira as a devilman on natl television it’s this sort of insane moment and it doesn’t hit as hard in Crybaby bc Ryo has just been clearly evil this whole time instead of legitimately not knowing/understanding his own nature. Like in the manga he does have this vague struggle against his instincts also when he Does remember it’s a deeply compelling moment of him looking at baby pics of himself and not recognizing them—I get why that can’t rly happen in Crybaby bc of the new context but it does just make that moment much less interesting. But yea idk Ryo was sorta acting like he had his memories back the whole time (which if that was the Choice being made I was willing to walk w it! I don’t think adaptations need to be identical to the source material if they’re doing smth new and effective) but he didn’t sooooooo that was disappointing

The ending still made me sad tho. Point there I suppose. Also were they tryna do an End of Evangelion thing w the Red Sea and purple sky beach thing and ryokira laying next to each other….? Fascinating. I mean that’s fun bc Evangelion was deeply influenced by Devilman (so much so that it’s on the Wikipedia lmfao). Anyway

ALSO. It wasn’t funny. One thing ab Devilman is that it’s lowkey so fucking funny and Crybaby was just kinda like dreary. Idk… it was fun ig but liiiiike I hope we get a proper devilman adaptation one day

PS yea the show was clearly purposefully gay but it’s a little nuts they cut the “you fell in love w Akira Fudo” moment and didn’t rly replace it w anything like ig that’s not rly needed but bro they put that shit there in 1973 you’d think a 2018 adaptation would do a lil more there lol

[squid-ichorous]

so we're taking things more seriously wrt leaving the US and i've been... not ok about it lol i've been depressed for a long time and now it's even worse for obvious reasons and the thought of leaving everything behind isn't helping

we're only going to leave if we Absolutely Have To Leave which... idk, maybe i'm being naive but that feels like a less likely scenario than ppl make it out to be but at the same time it's a non-zero chance u know? like ppl are having nightmare scenarios about camps and whatnot and as a multiply disabled nb lesbian i'm like. how on the money is this. i want to say it's not. but. right?

oats already has his documentation as a dual citizen of the US and canada so his entry will be a lot easier than kb's and mine. kb's brother has a strong work record of manufacturing and laser operation so he's confident about his work visa. silver linings i guess.

i still have endless questions like how quickly will we find shelter/work, how will i source meds and therapy as a non-citizen, we have enough money to drive across the border with as much as we can fit in the van but it'll only stretch us so far. i can't stop thinking about all the ways this can go wrong. i wish this place wasn't so fucking miserable or at least moving to a different state would be good enough. it would be good enough for me but what happens when smth codified in a state gets overturned on a federal level. i'm too ignorant and all i'm getting back is fearmongering and tension.

i just... rly needed to get this off of my chest. i've expressed my anxieties to everyone already and the best we can do is just be vigilant and save up for if the time comes; if it doesn't we'll just have less possessions and a little more money. it doesn't make the nerves go away *now* though.

i'm just really unhappy these days but i'm trying, i promise.

[symphonybracket]

YouTube Links: Shostakovich 5, Sibelius 5

Comments:

Shostakovich 5

Ngl, I have a short attention span. But this symphony has encapsulated the clear feeling of terror and adrenaline. From the horns to the drum-like march, the music puts you on an exhilarating ride start to finish. I also rly love the story behind this piece, the struggling Shostakovich trying to survive in an oppressive regime, you can really feel it in the music.

Sibelius 5

Fascinating composition history--it was totally revised after the Finnish Civil War! Catastrophically abrupt ending to the first movement that shocks the listener into half-applauding and then not knowing what to do actually. Truly transcendent conclusion that leaves me equal parts joyous and bereft. Osmo Vänskä's recording with the Lahti Symphony is online.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

pythia, a supernatural rewrite. phantom traveler, p.2

read it on ao3. masterlist.

words: 4747 notes: HI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELLO. uni is finally no longer kicking my ass, so here is a pythia update! since it's been an embarrassing amount of time since I last posted, i rly wanted to get something out for u guys - and as a result this chapter is shorter than what I'd like, but I hope still fun and silly ;) thank you so much for holding on with me and i can't wait to hear your thoughts! p.s - sam and dean are extra sweet this chapter bc i want all of u to love me again >:)

PITTSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 3rd, midday.

George Phelps was Max’s passenger, and, among other things, a loving and committed husband. He lived in a quaint little house in the suburbs, where his wife put his picture on the mantle and refused to say much to you. She didn’t have to. Just looking up at their house from the curb, decorated with soft glowing Christmas lights and silver crosses, you knew George Phelps wasn’t your guy. Maybe Max had seen him pry open the emergency exit on the flight, but you seriously doubted a dentist with acid reflux was behind the deaths of two hundred people.

Sitting in George’s living room and speaking with his wife, you swore that there was almost something there, but it was neutral enough that you doubted it was anything more than the wisps of George’s presence in the house. Fresh grief always felt the same.

You didn’t like how this hunt had been gnawing on you. The visions always itched you in their own way, but this time was distinctly, uncomfortably different, and you just couldn’t pin down why. It was your job to take the weird inclinations the Gift gave you and turn them into something usable. Somehow, you couldn’t even manage that.

You were the first one out of George Phelp’s stifling house and the first one into the Impala. In the safety of the backseat, you curled your nails into the upholstery until your fingers hurt and just felt. What were you missing? What were you recognizing, but failing to remember?

The thing you were hunting was big game. You’d had hundred-year-old vengeful spirits in your head, and they couldn’t even glimpse the kind of hatred you were dealing with here. It affected audio recordings, had loads of strength, and took a metal bat to your Gift every time you even thought about it. Somehow, it manifested with or connected to normal people. None of this rung any bells with you. Which was ridiculous, since it felt more and more familiar the longer you rolled your vision over in your mind—beyond close, like it was within arm’s reach.

Sam, in the Impala’s passenger seat, started giving you cautious looks in the rear-view. Dean had been halfway through griping about this case when Sam finally spoke his mind: “____… What exactly did you see in your vision?”

Both of the boys shared a furtive glance, then turned to look at you as one.

You must’ve shown the panic you were feeling on your face, because Dean’s clammed up with awkward sympathy. “...I know this one was tougher n’ usual, but I need you to buck up a bit, okay? This thing’s got nothing on you. C’mon.”

When you frowned, there was a bitter tang growing on the back of your tongue. You weren’t six. You didn’t need someone to coax your nightmares from you, and you definitely didn’t need anyone telling you to put your big girl pants on. Dean didn’t have to ask Sam to toughen up, even four years off his game, and you doubted he ever told himself to. Grr.

“Just start driving,” you gruffed, and failed to stop your lip from curling.

The arm Dean had hung over the front seat slouched into his lap. “...Sure thing. What’d you see?”

He turned the key and got you on the road again, joined, right on cue, by Sam’s kicked-puppy look swaying back to the windshield. You reminded yourself that the only reason you were pissed was because of how awful these last few days had been, and explained yourself.

“It was intense. Way more intense than most visions I’ve had. Not because of anything I saw—though the crash was… awful—but because of the feeling it gave me. Even when I got out of it… it just filled my head, I guess. This thing has a seriously powerful influence.”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “Did you see it at all?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, reminded again of how little you were helping. “Most of it was just flashes of the passengers. The plane going down. Before that, I saw a man’s hand grab the handle to the emergency door, the pilots talking about a flight out of Pittsburg, and then smoke. Loads of it.”

The car sunk into a heavy, thought-honed silence that only served to ramp up to your anxiety. You kept the case on your mind for all of two seconds, then were pulled to the ceaseless clicking of Dean’s turn signal and how scratchy your bandages were. Your suit sat too stiff on your body for you to relax into your seat, squeezing your empty belly in the worst way and chaffing on Baby’s leather. The cold air was too dry and your eyes and throat burned with the strangest pressure. Not a sick pressure, but a living one, pressing in. Black smoke. Your pain meds were wearing off too, so the sinew in your body felt taut and worn on an unfamiliar skeleton.

You stared dead-eyed at nothing for a minute longer, then Dean hauled the Impala up to the curb again and declared: “Fuck it. We’re getting lunch. What are you in the mood for, baby?”

“That’s a weird way to say the car needs gas, Dean,” you managed.

“No—not her-Baby, you baby!” Dean flushed, and honestly, he deserved some serious points for scrounging up any humor right now. Again, he tossed an elbow over the seat and threw a dazzling, morale-boosting grin at you. “What do you want to eat, darlin’? We can go to a sit-down place, have an actual meal. Or we can just grab something from the store. Anything.”

You hesitated to answer, and caught Sam’s grimace—you were way too poor right now to go for anything beyond instant noodles. “...We can wait til’ later, Dean. I don’t really have an appetite right now,” you lied.

Dean never begged, but forever reason he was willing to today. Maybe you seemed even worse off than you’d thought. “...C’mon, kid, you’re killing me here. Whatever you want. My treat.”

Again, you didn’t jump at the chance to answer. Truth be told, you could eat a grocery store whole right now, but the three of you did not have the budget. Dean was insane and devoted enough to steal lunch for you, too, and you didn’t feel like bailing him out of jail right now. Just the idea made your wallet tear up.

You opened your mouth to try and be realistic, only for Sam to interrupt you.

“Ice cream,” he read your mind. “She wants ice cream. The big grocery store tubs.”

Dean didn’t wait for any objections. He whipped the Impala out of park, jerked back into your lane, and peeled away toward the nearest store. “Ice cream! Hell yeah. I could fuck up some cherry garcia right now. Sam? Could you fuck up some ice cream right now?”

“Me? Oh, big time,” he lied, catching your eyes in the rearview again. You’d maybe seen Sam eat ice cream twice in your entire life. Again, he was probably hiding that he was lactose intolerant.

You had only a sliver of fight left within you. “Boys…”

“Yes?” They chimed. In their own ways, their voices dared you to resist, but the combined power of both Winchesters was too strong to withstand.

You bit down your grin and fell silent.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled into a thirty-year-old mini-mart that looked it’s age. Of course, he parked the Impala as far from the other cars as possible, so the mile-long walk through freezing, finger-numbing winds put everyone in the mood for ice cold ice cream. The first euphoric rush of interior heating made you sigh out loud. When Sam and Dean had swiped the snow off their blazers, you made an attempt at leading them toward another toastier, cheaper snack.

“You want ice cream,” was all Sam said, shrugging, and scooped up a basket for the three of you to use.

Either you were predictable or he could read minds, because even with the snowy weather you were more than ready to fuck up some ice cream. Just thinking about it made your bandages feel less scratchy. Lounging on the couch and plowing through a tub was a privilege the road really didn’t allow, so you were pretty sure you hadn’t even had any ice cream since October. Since you’d actually lived in your apartment.

“How did you know?” You asked him, out of honest curiosity.

Sam gave you a mysterious smile instead of an answer, swiped some snow off your jacket, then tilted his head after Dean in an unspoken come on. His brother had already caught the scent of the frozen treats section, so you both hurried to catch up with him. You stole glimpses of Sam as you wove your way to the back of the store. He was a little taller than the aisles, and his loafers cleared the age-stained linoleum in half the time your heels did. For whatever reason this is when your heart decides to remind you how absolutely spellbound you are by him. He takes a turn around an endcap of Little Debbies to find Dean, and you float right after him, orbited by cartoon hearts.

Maybe that’s intentional on Sam’s part, since you forget all about money and budgets right up until you’re staring down the row of smudged freezer doors. Dean’s already hefting his tub of cherry garcia overhead when you approach, and after a lot of fake stadium-cheering and whooping, he free-throws it with a perfect swish into Sam’s basket. Then, he slides aside and unveils the mini-mart’s slim selection of ice creams to you. Unfortunately, you’ve been trained from birth to think Dean’s funny, so you bite down on your cheek-aching grin and take a look.

“I dunno…” you say, even though you’ve already come this far. The math is starting to stack in your head. One tub is fine, but one for each of you builds up, and that cuts into real food money and motel money and gas money and—

“How about this,” Sam interrupts your mounting anxiety, voice smooth and anticipatory. “Dean gets his and then you and I get one to share. Sound good?”

You thank him with a small smile, imagining the face he’d make if you yanked him down by the lapels and kissed him for knowing you so well. Sam was a great kisser.

“That’d be perfect.”

Instead of going for your favorite, you swipe the dairy-free cookies and cream.

Dean shoos Sam further down the aisle, and his brother props up the basket like a hoop and starts serpentining between the frozen pizzas, the two of them beaming like rowdy middle school boys. You turn your tub over in your hand and line up your shot. Dean’s taunting and pinching is ultimately fruitless—the victory grin is already comfortable on your face when your ice cream swishes flawlessly into Sam’s basket. Sam whoops.

“Not bad, Slayer,” Dean approves. He gives your shoulder a playful budge, and you budge him right back on the way to the registers.

With your bad mood successfully thawed, you’re easy to distract while Dean sneaks away to (hopefully) pay for your plunder. One minute you’re in line with them, and in the next Sam is coaxing you away to poke around the value movie bin, hypnotizing you with a few well-placed, dimply grins. You forget altogether that ice cream costs money. You’re only just remembering what money is when Dean reappears, shoving a receipt in his pocket and jabbing a thumb toward the bakery.

“Cashier lady said they got spoons over there,” Dean explained.

You paused. “Don’t we have, like, a gazillion in the car?”

“You mean the car with the heater that takes ten years to start?” Dean sassed back, which instantly dissolved into one of his cheesy, goading grins. He started to rifle through the grocery bag for his flavor, half-walking and half-wrestling with it. “We’ll eat in here. Don’t worry about it.”

Somehow, you didn’t worry about it. Dean cracked jokes about adult freedoms and whole sleeves of raw cookie dough, Sam rubbed his belly like just the thought made him nauseous, and you giggled at every little thing they did. You were still laughing when Sam parked you by one of the bakery’s vents, the two of you crowded close to get as much warm bread fog as possible. Dean went over and bartered for three plastic spoons. The whole time he stole glances at you loudly giggling with his brother, and patted himself on the back for his job well done.

Dean wiggled closer to you both to be under the warmth of the vent. Now equipped with a way to get this ice cream into your ice-cream-ready belly, you borrowed Sam’s pocket knife to shred the plastic seperating you from your treasure. There wasn’t really a contactless way to hold the tub between you both. While Dean ravaged his cherry garcia, you and Sam tried, and failed, to preserve your personal space, only to lazily gravitate closer to each other with the first glorious spoonfuls of cookie-dough. The first bite balmed your sore throat and your sensitive burns. It was sweeter than you were expecting for dairy-free ice cream, but the surprise was welcome.

Dean stabbed his spoon into his cherry garcia. Then, he gave you another welcome surprise. He dropped his hand in your hair, smoothing it back, and asked around a mouthful of cherry flavoring, “Good?”

You couldn’t help but beam. “Yeah. I’m good.”

_

NTSB EVIDENCE WAREHOUSE, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 3rd, midday.

The next step in your investigation, naturally, was to break into a government warehouse, slip past security undetected, and hopefully learn something useful from the wreckage without being caught. No amount of ice cream could make that easy, but you couldn’t let your anxiety get in the way. The heart attacks you had showing your fake badge to the security guards were nausea-inducing, but the overpowering psychic weight of a disaster this fatal was going to be a thousand times worse. You steeled yourself.

Before you’d been a hunter, you’d come from a long line of spiritualists and occultists who made death their livelihood. They communicated with the spirit world, they studied life after death, they made the passing of old souls easier. Even before your Gift opened up you’d had similar connections to death. Beth, eyes gleaming with pride, used to tell stories about you at four, talking to the darkness of the attic’s crawlspace like there was someone there. Dean got head to toe heebie-jeebies when you brought that up, but a connection to the other side at such a young age was a Proctor mark of pride. The first time you’d ever seen an apparition had been celebrated as a milestone of womanhood. Death was your older sister, so you shouldn’t have been afraid of her.

You’d sensed her just a few miles out from the warehouse. It was gentle at first, seeping into your ears like a shift in air pressure, then gradually filling up your other senses. But over two hundred real living people—people who loved and were loved like you loved Sam and Dean—had died in that crash, so in no time you were squeezing your eyes shut and plugging your nose in the backseat. You felt Death every day in small doses. In Sam, restlessly watching the ceiling of your rooms at night, in your motorcycle, in the graves you dug up and the homes you questioned civilians in. Your sister sat beside you in the back of the Impala every day.

But two hundred whole people. You dug the nails of your right fist into your palm until it burned, thinking, desperately, about ice cream.

The closer you came to the scene, the more overwhelming the sense of death became. You were almost swaying on your feet flashing your badge at the security desk, who, of course, have to remind everyone of how useless you are.

“FBI? Don’t you guys usually work in pairs?”

Sam gave a tight smile. “She’s our aircraft specialist, thank you.”

A security clerk from the main office drove you out to the right hangar on a golf cart. Dean laid his action movie smolder a bit thick on the guy, but he at least could’ve passed as a trainee. By comparison, Sam at twenty-two and you at twenty-four were round-faced babies, too young to play agents on TV, nevermind in real life. The two of you squished together on the back bench of the cart and sat ramrod straight the whole ride, refusing to turn around. The less people who could remember your faces, the better.

When the warehouse was unlocked and the three of you were inside, your sister struck.

There was so much death. Great mouthfuls, lungfuls, chestfuls of it in the air, diffusing through your nose every time you breathed. You gagged on the psychic taste of it until your eyes watered.

A smarter person would’ve stayed in the safe bubble between Sam and Dean, but you’re done being babied. You break ranks the first chance you get. While the boys take slow steps around the perimeter of the wreckage, you gravitate toward the split-open center of the fuselage. All that remains of the plane’s body are a few rows of seating, gutted curves of scrap, and long tangles of roasted wires. There was so little left that you had room to walk through the middle, down the same path the passengers had taken to board.

When the ringing in your ears was too loud to hear over and you felt like a massive fist had closed around your chest, you stopped. Reached out. Felt, beyond the veil, the mark of the thing that had done this. It hung over this warehouse like a funeral shroud, but you felt it first through its spider web, which kept the last impressions of over two-hundred different people tethered to this place by invisible strands. None of the people—the spirits from the crash had manifested yet, but every living thing left an impression of itself behind. A footprint.

You pulled at different strands of the spider’s web for a while, sorting through the last memories of those on the plane for something useful. It was just as terrible as you’d expect. Mothers held their children, husbands clutched their wives, everyone wailed and screamed. This many people should’ve made up a whole nebula of different feelings, but instead you sensed just one: absolute, incalculable terror. With every passing moment the fear pressed in closer, but you ignored it. You pushed yourself deeper. Max Jaffey gasped into his oxygen mask. The seat in front of him was empty, and he was looking at someone—you reached and reached—across the aisle, a man sobbed and pressed his girlfriend’s trembling hand into his heart—you were going to die you were all going to die—

You’re ripped out of the swarm of memories.

For the millionth fucking time, you come out of the vision on your ass with the boys hovering over you. You’re slow to remember where you are and what’s going on, but the shame is there waiting for you, like always.

“—okay, just breathe, you’re okay—” Sam is telling you, soft and unbelievably patient, considering the number of times he’s had to do this.

His heart is full-on pounding like it’s gonna punch right out of his chest, and you wonder why you know that until you glance down. He’s got your wrist fished in his hand, pressing your palm to flat to the crisp chest of his suit, and it’s just plain embarrassing at this point how much it pulls you back to earth. Your dignity wants you to rip yourself away from him, but, luckily, Dean does it for you. He pushes Sam back and kicks a box of wires neatly between you, just in time for his premonition to come true: your twisting stomach makes its move, and you promptly throw up into the box like a sick toddler in a ball pit. Dean could always tell.

“Touchdown,” he winces.

This is it. You’ve reached the final level of humiliation you can stand. No matter how hard you try, every pathetic dive you’ve made to be useful to the Winchesters has ended with your face in the mud. You can’t even wipe your face right. Sam ends up doing it for you with his sleeve, and sighs, out loud, just to add insult to injury: “Poor baby.”

PITTSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 3rd, evening.

Two hours later, you’re back in the motel, sitting criss-cross at the end of Dean’s bed and contemplating what color you’re going to dye your hair. You’ve already landed on what your new legal name will be—Elizabeth Ripley. Elizabeth as in Pride and Prejudice and Ripley as in Alien. Sam would appreciate a Jane Austen reference and Dean would appreciate anything Alien related, so everyone would be happy.

You’re not sure where this plan to change your name and face came from. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, after you gracefully threw up everywhere and failed to learn anything new about the case, the real FBI showed up. Like. Real, gun-slinging, tie-wearing FBI agents. And they may or may not have chased you out of the warehouse. (Which you would’ve seen coming, by the way, if you hadn’t royally exhausted your powers). Just in case all that was enough—while you were off being useless, Sam and Dean got a potential sample from your mystery monster. An actual workable lead.

Fucking great.

The two of them are deciding what to do with you. If you were to look beyond the lens of your self-hatred for a moment, it’s more likely that the boys are worried about you and trying to figure this out. But you feel embarrassed and gross and unhelpful, so you strain to pick up every word you can and glare a new hole into the wall. They’re going to tell you to stay behind. Well that, at least, is something you can beat them to.

Ever since you were little, the three of you had a very special rhythm together. Sam was the mind and Dean was the heart and you were the subconscious. Each of you was important, and though you could work on your own, you were so, so much better as a system. With you sending out fucked-up signals, the two of them would be down a crucial piece.

Whatever. They’d probably function just fine without you on this one.

Of course, Dean sics his little peacekeeper on you. The door clicks open. You smear the last of your frustrated tears on your sleeve and talk before Sam can say anything: “Hey, is it okay if you guys take that sample to Jerry without me? It’d probably be good for us to get a leg up on research, and you guys don’t exactly need me there.”

Sam comes toward you, his voice extra soft and placating. Since, y’know, you’re a shitty timebomb that needs to be handled with kid gloves. “...Alright. That’s a good idea. That’d help out a lot.”

He says that specifically because he knows you feel unhelpful. He gives you those dewy, understanding Sam eyes and puts his big Sam hand on your shoulder, and all it does is piss you off. You hate how easily he can read you, and how much you want to listen to him. None of this should be such a big fucking deal. You’re twenty-four—you should have a handle on your Gift by now. Sam’s been back at this for, what? Two months? Nobody’s treating him like he can’t handle the pressure. He’s not being haunted by visions twenty-four-fucking-seven or dealing with stupid burns or—or being creeped on by random hunters! Or throwing up at crime scenes!

Your eyes start to burn. You glare harder at the wall, and force yourself not to take this out on him.

Sam’s hand goes to move off your shoulder, but something changes his mind and he keeps it there for another lingering moment. “Look at me a second.”

You force yourself to look at his face. As mad as you are, the boy-crazy teenage girl in your head gets one look at him and squeals into her pillow.

“Go easy on yourself,” he says, softer than before. “Really. Nobody’s built for this kind of thing.”

You want to scream. Me! I am! I’m built for this! But you’re not a teenager anymore, so you compose yourself, sigh, and tell him, “...I’ll try.”

Instead of getting up, Sam stares at you for a long beat. There’s something in his eyes you can’t describe, and his hand is still on your shoulder, tethering the two of you to each other. Your mental teenage girl is about to succumb to romantic psychosis when Sam’s greenish eyes find something else to look at, and he passes you something from his pocket.

He mutters something like feel better and gets up, leaving you with a shard of metal about as long as one of your fingers. He doesn’t explain what it is to you. He doesn’t tell you what to do with it. Because you’re a hunter, dammit, and Sam knows you can handle yourself. His warm, calloused palm slips off your shoulder and you get the impression that he was never using any kid gloves with you to begin with.

Sam leaves. You stare at the shard as the Impala slinks out of the parking lot. Just by touch, you know it’s a piece of flight 2485’s fuselage.

…You do as Sam asked, and go easy on yourself. After a shower, a little teeth-brushing, and a lot of mints, you’re feeling way less gross and a lot more like a hunter. The whole time you pour through research on your laptop, you rub the shard of flight 2485 between your fingers and sort through what this thing could be. Inhuman strength. Uses a vessel. Black eyes. Black smoke.

Nobody’s built for this kind of thing, Sam had said, and he’d been wrong. You’d been honing this Gift before you’d even known you’d had it. Most of your life had been spent learning every kind of divination under the sun, so there was no way this thing could hide from you.

You started easy, reading the shard through psychometry. The nauseous feeling rose up inside you again, and again, you heeded Sam’s warning and chose to push away from it. You tried numerology, which felt like a push in the right direction; 2458 wasn’t relevant, and though 7 survivors could mean something interesting (luck, the union of the physical and the spiritual, yadda yadda), your gut told you it was something else. The plane crashed 40 minutes in. Biblical numerology, maybe? Promising. But also potentially terrifying.

When your bone casting read felt flat and uninspired, you defaulted to the simplest method you could think of. Tarot.

The first time you’d seen an apparition, your mom had scooped you up into a massive hug and paraded you around the house, declaring to the spirits of the underworld that a new heavyweight champ had entered the ring. (This became a lot funnier the older you got). You were bought ice cream and root beer and told in a thousand ways, subtle and unsubtle, that this was a good thing. One of the ways Beth convinced you was with her childhood tarot deck, which she’d gifted you that day.

You turned the cards over in your hands, imbuing the worn-smooth texture of the paper with the feelings from your vision. The first card you pulled was done on nothing but pure instinct. And the second. By the third, you shuffled the deck as thoroughly as possible, but the answer was still the same every single time. You’d never pulled the same exact card three times. All at once, things pulled together—the overwhelming sense of evil, the human host, the numerology, the way it sucked up death like a goddamn sponge—no survivors, it’d said on the EVP. Holy shit.

You were dialing Dean’s number the second you set the card down. He answered on the second ring, and spoke at the exact same time as you—

“It’s a demon."

Underneath the illustration were two blemished words. The Devil.

-

tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1 @lacilou @cevans-winchester @leigh70 @seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looouou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoonn

NEXT PART: phantom traveler, p.3.

[waddles-ex-machina]

ok while we’re on the subject of the merman ep you’re gonna get some me lore

soooo lil fun (? not really) fact about me is that right before I had this blog, I had another insane obsession blog which was for team starkid (who for those who don’t know are like..an indie musical theatre group (im going somewhere Hilda-related with this I promise)) anyway in the couple years before Hilda aired I was deeply obsessed with them, had a decently popular blog in the fandom with like 2k followers, had posters on my walls, dragged my family to Ireland one time so I could see them irl etc…so that was a whole obsession that took over a whole chunk of my life. It’s hard to quantify just how deeply attached to it I was and how much it and the fandom was in my life (i also made 2 rly amazing friends in that fandom who I still have now :> )

anyway so the songwriters for Starkid’s most famous musical (Twisted) were AJ Holmes and Kaley McMahon so they’re iconic in the starkid lore. AJ Holmes was also a key player in the early starkid days and is right there behind the piano in like the 360p recording of their very first show. there was a point where I knew all the songs written by these two and listened to them on repeat constantly etc etc. anyway I promptly forgot all of this when the obsession faded and I moved on with my life/immediately got obsessed with something else (Hilda). like that old obsession is long dead and I haven’t thought about starkid in literally years or have any idea what theyre doing now

anyway I bring this up because

please imagine how I sat down to watch The Laughing Merman for the first time and lost my fucking mind

[rpfisfine]

more things from the linz show

i will preface this by saying i wasn't able to get the vip golden circle section of the floor when i was buying the tickets so i """"only"""" stood right behind the barricade that separated the vip section from the normal section of the floor and while i mourned quite intensely not being as close to the stage as i had originally hoped for a moment i'm now realizing i have pretty much nothing to complain abt bc the spot i got was still pretty amazing. the reason i'm saying this is that if any of this turns out to be inaccurate or feels lacking it's because there were times where i had a pretty suckass view of the stage bc someone's head was in the way and i'm 5'3 LOL. but like 75% of the time i was able to see everything & i had the best time at the show : -)

they took SO LONG to come onstage after inhaler came out which is understandable considering it's their first show after a slight break so everything has to be put in order again but it was still so confusing lmao we were cheering like 3 or 4 separate times while the sound technician guys were still bringing out gear every time it got slightly dark bc we thought this was finally it but it never was. idk if the length & the confusion was like amplified by the fact that my legs & back were actively killing me and i was starving and dying and desperate for them to finally come out but yeah. many such cases

this thing was briefly displayed during the sound checking at one point. is it like. a car wheel.

there was literally the weirdest deal with the security guys at the barricade. before the show started they brought out this huge tank of water with two long packs of paper cups & everyone around me pretty much concluded that like oh they're gonna hand out water to ppl if they feel thirsty. makes sense. but then when ppl started reaching out their hands asking for a drink the security guy would like start laughing and tell us that it isn't drinking water (?) plus there were other security guys coming over to tell him not to give us the water but when ppl begged rly intensely he would hand them a cup. like rly reluctantly & mostly ignoring the ppl right against the barricade & only giving it to the ppl in like the third or four row AND also laughing at us the whole time like this is the last one i'm giving you guys!!! at this point i had run out of my own water & couldn't leave my spot to go out and buy a drink so i didn't care abt anything and was one of the ppl who were reaching out their hands but he always ignored me even though he stood right in front of me LOL. fast forward to the end of the am show and there is a different security guy at the barricade and he's like giving water to EVERYONE who barely lifts a finger to ask for it no problem & no one is like actively preventing him from doing it anymore. so. literally no clue what that one was about

my honest reaction to inhaler after seeing them for the 1st time not knowing any songs: really good!!!!! very good energy. will admit that all the songs pretty much sounded the same to me but a couple of them stood out and during 'if you're gonna break my heart' a lot of us did the waving the phone flashlights thing and the photographer took a picture of us <3

there were two girls at the barricade next to me who looked like this 😐🙄😒 the entire time + only knew the lyrics to snap out of it & diwk + only got excited when they played a song off of am and one of them was actively browsing tiktok at several points during the show & i was like okay. what was even like the point of you coming to the show then why don't we all kill ourselves. but whatever

(also they literally just spent the show recording like 1 minute long videos of every song & blocking my view of the stage w the phones i wanted to shred and murder)

when they came out with sculptures i. had a moment. also he did the lifting the mic stand thing again as usual. Classic

brianstorm is insane live. we all know this. yet i still wasn't prepared like matt is quite genuinely a beast

alex was saying soooooo much stupid shit i’m forgetting a lot of what he said but most of it was just like shouting "LINZ!!!" he rly enjoyed that one. also he said "hello!!!" at one point as well as asking us like how we were doing and thanking us :-)

overall he seemed to be having a great time like he sounded genuinely excited & like obviously pleased at how enthusiastic the crowd was <3

when they got to the 'but it don't sound much like you' part in snap out of it i was wondering whether he'd say 'girl' or 'mama' but he said darling......

he announced crying lightning by just shouting "crying lightning!!" like. spitting straight facts i guess. same thing with pretty visitors but he didn’t shout that one he just like Said it. I guess

during the last verse before the solo in don't sit down he sang 'but just don't sit down because i moved your chair.........OVER THEREEEEEEEEE' IT WAS SOOOOOO MY JAW GENUINELY DROPPED HIS VOICE IS SO GOOD LIKE HOLY SHIT..

also what ppl have said aby his voice irl being higher than you'd expect is so true!!!! in a rly strange way it's not rly as deep as the videos make it out to be like there is a quality to the tone/pitch of his voice that doesn't really translate through like recorded footage. doesthat make sense

they played these short little instrumental interludes between the songs like they always do but at one point it genuinely sounded as if they were gonna play when the sound goes down. they didn't but honestly seeing how the rest of the show turned out i honestlyfinal think that would've been like the final nail to my coffin

ppl waved their arms during the pretty visitors chorus!!! (i also waved them)

SUCK IT AND SEE...............i'm honestly still in disbelief like it started out soooo slow and quiet and beautiful and sad and gradual without guitar it honestly took me like 7 seconds to even recognize the song bc out of all of the new additions to the setlist i was expecting to witness that song was NOT . one of them

after sias he said 'thank you linz..........sensational....' or sth to that effect i think. blushing and kicking my feet

i'm not joking when i say i'm literally like typing this through a mist of sweat bc i still haven't recovered but yeah immediately after sias ended he said sth like 'we'd like to play a song from our latest record called the car now' so I’m already SCREAMING like browsing the album in my head like okay big ideas i ain’t quite hello you maybe. and he goes 'it's called perfect sense' .

to make a long story short i barely got out of that one alive like hearing & singing 'sometimes i wrap my head around it all and it makes perfect sense' while being in the process of witnessing something you know you're gonna spend the next like six months actively trying to wrap your head around to make it make sense is UM.

ANYWAY. STAR TREATMENT WAS SOOOOOO INCREDIBLE & SO BEAUTIFUL i will forever defend it as the best version of the song there is unless they outdo themselves of course like the guitar arrangement is AMAZING. also the lights were sooooo pretty during it they like orbited the arch around matt's drumkit & illuminated the ceiling & everything......sooooo pretty + alex's voice was AMAZING

also i spent a few more hours brain searching and yeah i'm pretty sure he said 'i just wanted a jet ski for the moat' instead of 'i just wanted to be one of the strokes' at the beginning BUT i'm like 99% sure i heard 'i just wanted to be a jet ski on the moat' at first which i'm devastated isn't the case because that would be the silliest fucking thing ever but alas. it's still SO funny

jamie is such a king..................out of the 4 of them he was the one i had the best view of & he sat down to play the keyboard for two songs i think four out of five was one of them and 505 the other. and he SLAYED IT

NICK IS SO BEAUTIFUL.................................

everyone’s backing vocals were AMAZING

before they played fluorescent adolescent alex said sth like 'take it away, matthew...' EVERYONE SCREAMED SOOOOOOOO LOUD when they started playing the song the girls next to me were like covering their mouths in surprise & we all went completely insane

like genuinely the crowd was . DEAFENING at times esp during the bigger songs like i was actively shouting at the top of my lungs and i COULDN'T HEAR MYSELF. it was INCREDIBLE genuinely like it exceeded my wildest expectations my ears are still ringing