#i know that telling who the frontman is is the right thing to do

[ourwhisperingtorment]

To everyone who says that Junho is a villain for not telling Gihun who the frontman was, then you probably didn’t watch season 1.

Junho literally went through hell to find his brother and you think he’s just going to snitch on his brother like that? Let a random stranger kill him before he even gets the chance to talk to him?

Inho saved Junho’s life by giving him his kidney. Their father left early so Inho was probably also a parental figure to Junho. Junho’s actor said that Inho is Junho’s everything.

Is loving his brother so much something the lot of you can’t understand?

“But Inho’s killing 455 people every year.”

That’s why he’s trying to find the island??? What good would it do if Junho told Gihun who the frontman was? You think Gihun would defeat Inho with just that information?? And how the hell would Junho know that Inho would participate in the games?

Call Junho sentimental, stupid, or dumb but he just wants his brother back. The brother that is his everything.

And might I remind you that Junho (and Gihun) is the only one who’s trying to save those people because no one was believing him? He’s the only hope as of the moment. But I guess that can also be hindered by his brother because we don’t know how far Junho’s love and loyalty for his brother would go.

TLDR: Please don’t turn Junho into a villain just because he loves his brother so much. If you really want to put the blame on someone then blame the VIPs who are literally funding the Squid Games 💀

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[lenorenevermore99]

Why 457 is actually valid af and not just a "joke" ship

I wanna start this by saying that I'm in no way, shape or form convinced 457 is canon nor I think there will be anything remotely romantic between the two of them in season 3. But people seem to think it's just a joke inside the fandom, while actually, their dynamic is pretty fucking valid and I want to analyze that in this post.

One of the most discussed things (if not the most) when it comes to this ship is the stares.

Some think this is the stare of love, others think In-ho just enjoys seeing him suffer. Well, let me tell you it is neither.

But before we delve into the way In-ho stares at Gi-hun, we first have to go back to talk about Hwang In-ho as a character.

As we know, Hwang In-ho is the Winner of the 2015 Squid Game. He went into the games so he could have the money to treat his sick, pregnant wife, much like Gi-hun who did the same for his sick mother. Both of them won the game, but both of them were too late to save the person they loved from a sad fate.

This lead to In-ho becoming the Frontman. We don't know exactly what happened in the timeframe between him winning and him becoming the Frontman, but we can safely assume that after loosing his wife, In-ho lost faith in humanity. The games have destroyed him, they turned him into the villain he is today.

And the thing is, when he looks at Gi-hun, he sees his past self in him. This was confirmed by both Lee Byung Hun (In-ho's actor) and the director of the show himself.

Or to be more precise, he sees his past self. He sees who he was before the games changed him. And this is what led to his fascination and obsession with Gi-hun, because here's the thing; the games traumatized Gi-hun, but they didn't break his faith and hope in humanity, like they did with In-ho himself.

And this is the thing that, in my view, both fascinates and deeply angers In-ho. Deep inside, subconsciously, he is thinking, "Why were YOU able to retain your hope in humanity? Why were you able to remain a good person when I couldn't?"

In-ho was genuine when he told Gi-hun he wished he'd try to be happy after winning (or to better say, surviving) the games. I find it especially interesting when he tells him "Just pretend it was all a dream."

In-ho wishes he could pretend it was all a dream, but he couldn't. Think about it: he's a billionaire, but he lives in a shitty, small apartment. He doesn't talk to his mother, he doesn't talk to his brother, he doesn't even go visit his wife at the cemetery. Pardon me for borrowing the phrase from The Hunger Games, but he's not living the life of a victor. whether it's because he feels guilty or something else, I guess we'll find out in the next season, but that's not the point. The point is, that In-ho wants Gi-hun to do what he wasn't able to do after he won. He wants him to be happy because he sees himself in Gi-hun.

This is the most important point in this post.

Now I wanna focus on these moments. During the second game, during mingle, and during the lights-out massacre, we see Gi-hun being absolutely destroyed over the players that were killed. He's undoubtedly blaming himself for it. And here we see In-ho staring at him, not with the look of love, not with joy at his suffering, but with sorrow. He's sad for Gi-hun, because he could have spared himself further suffering if he didn't stubbornly decide to go back into the games.

What In-ho is thinking right here, in my view, is; "See? There is no hope. There is nothing you can do. Stop torturing yourself, just give it up already. How much more pain do you have to go through before you give up? Accept you can do nothing and go on with your life. Try to be happy."

Now you might be asking, okay, but what does that have to do with romantic love?

Well let me tell you that these feelings I just described can easily and quickly turn into love.

Many philosophers over the centuries have come to the same conclusion; we see part of ourselves in the people we fall in love with.

"The Front Man believes that Gi-hun is wrong in his way of thinking, but perhaps, he reflects on himself through Gi-hun. He does want to destroy Gi-hun's belief. I felt that a small part of him, unknowingly, might be hoping for Gi-hun's thoughts to be right. And rooting for him in some way."

These words Lee Byung Hun said about In-ho, makes me think of Jacques Lacan's theory in particular (which is a rather complex topic and I will try to summarize as shortly and as simply as I can).

For Lacan, love, at least in the beginning, is essentially a form of narcissism. When we fall in love, we're also falling in love with ourselves. We see ourselves in the other person, but we also see in the other what we subconsciously think we are lacking in ourselves. Which doesn't mean the other person will fix us because, at least according to Lacan, this lack is something that can never actually be "fixed".

And I think that's exactly was is happening with In-ho. He sees in Gi-hun what he's lacking in himself. They were traumatized the same way, but reacted in two completely different manners. In-ho became cruel and disillusioned with humanity, while Gi-hun still believes in humanity and wants to save everyone.

I know that this way, 457 seems like a one-sided kind of love, but that's honestly my personal interpretation of the ship. I think Gi-hun could have fallen for Young-il, for the person In-ho was before the games, if they had more time. But the Frontman In-ho? The person he became after becoming the Frontman? There's no way.

Not all loves are meant to happen, not all lovers get to be lovers. Some are meant to just leave us wondering what could have been. Which is what makes transformative works so fun and interesting! From the canonverse toxic fics to the wholesome alternative universe flower shop fics, I think their dynamic is valid as fuck.

I rest my case.

[imblueeforyuu]

yandere frontman x male player reader

a/n i wrote this when i was high as shit and had to spend to much time editing it i want to kms

Your hole in the wall corner store was going bankrupt, you were millions in debt and your life was falling apart. This store has been in your family tree since forever, it was your family's pride and joy. And you were ruining it,  Of course you were. the one thing you had to live for was being taken from you. You were ashamed and embarrassed. Why did you have to be the one to ruin your family business? You felt hopeless, there was no way you could continue to live like this, i mean it wouldn’t be selfish to kill your self, right? You have no family to take on the debt you created, so it’s fine. Maybe it was best to take the cowards way out. Someone stopped you though, on your way back home a strange business man stopped you and offered to pay you if you played a simple game of Ddakji, you couldn’t turn that down, no way. In the end you managed to make half a million won, which was not nearly enough but you were out of options. The strange man gave you a card and went on his way. 

With nothing better to do with your already broken life you decided to join this game. You didn’t expect to win, god no, you just wanted to try something so you could say you really did attempt to make some money, and you didn’t just give up. 

You woke up with a quick breath, you look around quietly, you notice a 002 on your uniform. Interesting, were you the second person to join this game? Whose the first, they had to be more desperate than you to join so fast. You had a personal mission now, to find this number 1 guy.. You crawled out of your bed to start your search. Everyone was either waking up or still asleep. This would be your perfect opportunity to find this guy, or girl. You looked around for a good while and found nothing. It wasn't until the masked guards took you to the first game you gave up. You don’t know why you're so interested in this man you're sure it’s just some boring fat old man. you were so incredibly focused on finding this guy you didn’t realize people were dying around you. Well you did but it really didn’t matter to you. On the walk back you noticed something, your number 001! And two guards leading him to the line of players, why was he with them? Maybe he got separated but you doubt it. You are definitely going to keep an eye on him now. 

“Hey your number one,” you stated, you really weren’t good with interactions. your dad always used to tell you that your awkwardness was what was going to run the store to the grave, and it really did. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he said looking into your eyes. You stare back looking at every detail of his face. He was older but definitely still attractive. He didn't look like he belonged, he had the look of someone more well off. You glare slightly before continuing walking. You felt his stare bore into the back of your head.

Next was voting, you pressed O, you did want to continue the game. Why would you want to stop here, it was fun, and easy. It was just kid's games. It had been awhile since you were a kid  but you're sure you still had it in you. You went back to your bed and sat observing, there was a group of people surrounding the person claiming they’ve played this before, You can’t blame them who wouldn't be intrigued? you also noticed a purple hair guy and his little minion pick a fight with some other guy. Boring, what wasn’t boring was the reaction of a certain number one. He was really interesting, first he supposedly worked with the guards and now you've learned he's really good at combat. Maybe he was secretly a guard, or some type of spy, you needed to gather more information on him. You look around the room and notice player 456, the crazy one. Maybe he knew something. 

Your chat with him was unsuccessful, player 001 came back, the very person you wanted to gossip about. Maybe you didn’t want to talk about him exactly, still if he was someone important and noticed you trying to get more information you're pretty sure he’ll have you killed. Unintentionally you’ve found yourself part of 456s group. You tried to slip away when 001 came back but you were too slow. Fuck now you were stuck interacting with this creep. 

The time the second game happened you’re so done with these people. Player 001 whose name you've learned to be Young-il especially, he made you feel nervous, it’s probably all in your head that he’s a spy or something. You’ve done this before; get it in your head someone’s out to get you when they're really innocent. But there's definitely something off about this guy. 

6 legs was pretty much boring, you split away from  gi-huns group as soon as the opportunity came. You don’t dislike the group by any means but they were loud, you've always been so introverted.  Maybe you were just jealous, you probably were.

“002,” 388 came up to your bed with the rest of the group following behind . You peel your eyes open, god you're not ready to talk to them.

“Yes?”

“Where did you go?”

“I lost you guys,”

You probably shouldn’t make them hate you especially because they were your ticket to a good amount of money, even though they were against the games they were smart. And strong. Perfect for victory. They started talking about voting and you could care less. you wanted to keep these games going. 

Mingle was annoying, you were the last pick of the group. When it finally was time for two players, young-li grabbed your Hand. You expected him to pick gi-gun who was practically his boyfriend, but no he picked you. When you got to the room you didn’t expect someone to already be there. You were at a loss. Maybe it would be best if you just walked out. But young-il can never not shock you? He grabbed that poor man and snapped his neck. You were shocked but that proves your suspicion, this man was not who he seemed. 

It was Time for gi-huns master plan. To fight back, you didn’t have the heart to tell this delusional old man there was no way he would win but you did have a use for this. Finally proving that number one was evil. You were going to wait and see him betray them, but You decide to join the raid and follow in the back. When it was time to go to the front office you joined young-il and the group that went with him. You said you were going to stay with 456 and 390 but secretly followed behind him and his group. You saw everything, him shooting the people with him, him pretending he died and his smirk at the camera. You smile. perfect.

“Got you.” You raised your gun to face him. He didn’t seem to take you seriously, he smiled softly before moving closer. You glare.

“Back up,” you yell, you clutch the trigger. 

You shouldn’t have let your guard down so quickly, you saw him reach to put his gun down. Seeing him submit you released your grip on the trigger just a little bit. He must have seen you relax, because Out of nowhere he grabbed his gun again and shot your leg. You fall over unable to hold yourself up. You saw young-il move closer towards you until he was standing right by your head. He crouched down before smiling even wider. You look into his eyes, you were expecting anger not pure bliss in your bloody weak body. Your world went black.

When you woke up you noticed you were on an uncomfortable leather couch. Your head was propped up on a pillow. Your eyes were still somewhat blurry. You reach to rub the blurriness out but you notice your hands were tied. You try not to panic just yet but that fails miserably. You look around desperately and wiggle around, unintentionally knocking something off a table, ouch now your leg hurts. You freeze for a moment, damn it now your kidnapper knew you were awake. The elevator door dings causing you to flinch, fuck time was running out. Quickly you rush to hide somewhere. Unfortunately your feet and hands were tied so there was not much you could do. Of course besides rolling. You quickly roll under the couch which fortunately was tall enough for you to fit under but damn, rolling off the couch must have reopened your gunshot wound , you almost scream in pain. You heard the clicking of dress shoes come closer, they stop for a moment before continuing. They stop right at the front of the couch before the owner of the pair of expensive shoes starts to talk

“You know your feet are showing,” young-il, if that even was his name, said. You kept quiet even though you knew it wouldn’t help at all. 

“You can come out,” he paused before continuing. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”  

Talk my ass. There is no way he just wanted to talk, if so why would he kidnap you? Yes, maybe you held a gun to him but still. You crawl out from under the couch, Or well wiggle out. When you finally managed to get out you saw young-il he was drinking a glass of whiskey. You were still on the floor wiggling around trying to free yourself from the rope. Young-il stood up and crouched by you. 

“What happened to all your confidence? You were so sure of yourself with that toy gun of yours,” he smirked and started to pat your head. You flinch and scrunch your face. 

“Fuck you,” you glare.

“Sh [name],” your eyes widened, you don’t remember telling him your name. But if he was the mastermind behind this you guess he would know your name after all. It still did disturb you. He disturbed you. The way he smiled, the way he crouched, and how he patted your head. There was something off about him, I mean of course there was. You felt helpless, he had tied you up and was treating you like a child. You spit at him, what else could you do? You were helpless, ok? That seemed to make him mad, good. He stood up abruptly and stared down at you. He kicked you swiftly. the middle of your back hit the leg of the couch. You winced and curled up into a ball. 

“What the fuck do you want from me,” you glare at the floor. You were still in the ball and your voice was low. You're not sure he could hear you. 

“Hm, you.” you heard the leather of the couch crinkle as he sat. What did he mean by you? Why Did he want you? You were just a failing business owner, you were about to end it when you were invited to these games. Maybe he liked that stuff? You hugged your legs closer, being careful of your wound. Why the fuck did you have to be so interested in him? 

[wonryllis]

𓈒ㅤ𑁯 YOU KNOW I WANT YOU, ! ˚ യ

is here in your perfect eyes, they're all i can see, just know that these things will never change for us at all. would you lie with me and just forget the world?

lee heeseung with fem!reader in the city of love. ⋆ ARCHIVE? g. fluff, s2l, wordcnt. 550 chasing cars; snow patrol

ROCK BAND FRONTMAN heeseung who also happens to be your NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR, stumbling into you the first time when you're moving your amazon packages you accidentally ordered to his apartment number. caught right in the middle of picking up the last box, your pretty eyes looking up at him all wide and surprised.

like a little bunny caught stealing berries— he's hooked right from the beginning.

"hey, i'm heeseung," ordering his packages to your door so he can start a little something, to know your name, to know what your voice sounds like. to let you know he is open to talk to you given any chance.

always trying to find opportunities to bump into you, looking through the peephole whenever he's home to see if you'd head out, ready with either 'taking out the trash' or 'going out for groceries' he's so desperate to get close to you, always offering to help you out with anything and everything. sometimes calling you over to listen to a new draft or to have a taste of the new recipe he tried. it shows on his face, just how he feels. and he doesn't mind it, he wants you to know; it's not a secret he tries to hide.

"it's easy, i can teach you," offering to teach you how to play the guitar when you awe over his skills. the thought of having his hands over yours, guiding them to hit the strings right, his face right next to yours, cheeks touching; it was a step closer.

slow and steady was his plan.

but once he knew of how you'd been here only for a one year work program, he realizes there isn't enough time to take it slow. and from then on he's actively pursuing you. asking you out on dates, even though he doesn't specifically tell you it's a date, the things he takes you out for are obvious enough. expensive restaurants and famous bakeries, pretty parks and romantic plays, boating picnics and city tours to show you all the places he'd bring you to every weekend.

waiting right outside the building with breakfast, in the morning when you leave for work to walk with you and drop you off. sometimes he'd wait outside your door but after you told him he doesn't need to do so much for you, he stubbornly opted to wait downstairs, telling you he's heading to work too. his studio on the other side and his 'work' starting whenever he wants it to.

sometimes he would ask you to come over for help because he can't write anything and having you close gives him inspiration. sitting with you out in the balcony, coffee mugs in hand while he makes you laugh, your pretty little smile flooding his mind with hearts and fuzzy feelings.

sending flowers to your workplace at lunch along with little desserts and sweet little notes telling you he'll keep trying until the end.

slowly as you accept him and his love, he'd invite you to his shows, giving you vip passes for backstage so you can be with him before and after he's on stage. dedicating songs to a special someone and talking about everything he loves about you, he's smitten; wondering what he'd do when the year is over.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @ms-no1kpopstan @aaa-sia @okwonyo

[sof1eee]

A rant/defending Cho Sangwoo actions

I love him so much he's such a complex and good written character, and this is basically just me ranting about my babygirl

So the first thing that i want to clarify is the reason why he joined the squid game, many people just immediately assumed that he wanted the money all for himself which is wrong. Personally, i think he DID joined the game for the money (obviously everyone did) BUT he also wanted to win the money for his mother. He wanted to show his mom that he is actually successful and to make her proud (obviously his mom is already so proud of him, but he doesn't know that). Also he literally was being hunted down by the police because he embezzled money from his client, so he definitely needed the money to pay all of that money off and bail himself out of jail. Obviously by the end, he kind of got money hungry, I won't deny that. I also want to remind you guys that the squid game is literally a last resort for EVERYONE in the game.

I feel like this is one of the big reason why people hate him which is, he killed Sae-Byeok and Ali. Even though I'm a Sang-Woo fan, i still BAWLED my eyes out when Ali or Sae-Byeok died, but i feel like it is understandable why he killed them both. Now let's start with Ali first. He doesn't even know Ali THAT long, he had only known him for LESS THAN A WEEK. So the fact that he betrayed Ali and took all of the marbles, i wouldn't really say that it's "selfish". Let's try to put on Sang-Woo's perspective for a second, "you're in a Life or Death game in which if you LOSE, you're never gonna see the light of day ever again, and you're playing against this guy, you've known him for 5 days (?) and he is WINNING, this is NOT good, obviously. If he does win, you'll die. You start to think of your mother back at home, who would take care of her? She's old and she's can't take care of herself, you're her only family left. You can't just leave her alone right? You're in this game because you wanted to help her, make her live a comfortable life without worries about money or food on the table. You CAN'T just die right now. No. You NEED to live. You need to WIN. For her. For your mother. And lucky for you, your opponent seems to be gullible, maybe you can win this afterall. I mean yeah, you're gonna indirectly kill him but... he's just a nobody. You've known for like what.. 5 days? He's not as important as your mom, right? Sure, he probably has a family but that's his own problem. Everyone in this game have a family, everyone wanted to survive. So, you betrayed him, sure u do feel guilty, but hey, it's the battle of the strongest right?" So basically, would you choose a random stranger you just met or your family? If you really think about it, Sangwoo was being very reasonable here.

Okay so now about Sae-Byeok's death, okay so let's be realistic for a second. Sae-Byeok's would've died from blood loss either way if Sang-woo didn't kill her. A glass shard literally stabbed her in the stomach and there was no way in hell the guards or the frontman were gonna treat her for it. There was only two options for her, dying slowly from blood loss or getting killed by Sang-woo, which was much more faster. Sang-Woo's reasons for killing her was that if Sae-Byeok and Gi-Hun voted to leave, they'll be the majority it need to stop the games. So I could definitely see where he's coming from, i mean imagine you literally just saw HUNDREDS of people died, you already killed 2 people, you ALMOST died and you haven't showered or eaten a proper meal for almost a week, ALL FOR THE 45.6 BILLION WON BUT THEN TURNS OUT YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST DID ALL OF THAT FOR NOTHING BECAUSE YOU'RE GONNA GET OUTVOTED BY TWO PEOPLE. So basically you just got a whole lot of trauma, YOU'RE STILL BROKE, the police are coming to get you and you can't see your mom because you're ashamed of yourself. Like damn, i would've done the same ngl....

"He didn't tell Gi-Hun what the second game was even though he knew!" Okay so yes i do agree with this, i think he should've told Gi-Hun about it! But if you hate Sang-woo for that reason then Gi-Hun deserve to be hated too, he did the exact same thing with the old man in the marble game. He lied and let the old man lose so he could have the advantage and win. THIS JUST SHOWS THAT THE GAME WAS DESIGNED TO BRING THE WORST OUT OF PEOPLE!!!! EVEN GI-HUN, OUR MAIN CHARACTER, LIED AND INDIRECTLY KILLED SOMEONE! (obviously the old guy didn't die but Gi-Hun didn't know that).

"Sang-woo didn't care about his mother." First of all, NO????? WHERE THE HELL DID U GET THAT FROM??? Like i said from the beginning, his mom was ONE OF THE REASON why he joined the games anyway! He didn't want to go back home and be a disappoinment to EVERYONE. Literally if you guys remember, his mom and Gi-Hun wasn't the only one who keeps bragging about him attending SNU, EVEYONE IN THE TOWN LITERALLY CALLED HIM "The genius of Ssamun-Dong". Further-more, his LAST WORDS were literally "Gi-Hun.... take care... of my mom.." WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE NEVER CARED FOR HER????

"He didn't feel guilty or remorseful after what he'd done." Okay so... did u watched the show with your eyes closed? Look i know he killed some people but he's still HUMAN. He FLINCHED when he heard the gunshot that shot Ali. His mental state was getting worse day by day. Right before he stab himself in the neck, he said "Hyung.... I'm sorry.." and I think he said that not only because he was apologizing for killing Sae-Byeok but also to just say sorry for every single thing he had done up until that moment. The guilt was obviously eating him alive.

The reason why he killed himself. He was already suicidal from the beginning, in episode 2, he tried to kill himself. He thinks living is just not worth it anymore, he has lost hope in humanity. Squid game was his last resort to try and fix his mistake. Maybe he can finally be the son his mother was proud of. The only reason why he killed himself at the end was because he trusted Gi-Hun. He trusted him to take care of his mom. He knew he couldn't live his life with the guilt of killing his childhood bestfriend. He knew Gi-Hun is a nice guy and would help his mother. He knew Gi-Hun would use the money to do something good. Like i said, he trusted him. At that point, Sang-woo thinks this was the best case scenario, him dying and Gi-Hun living. So in that moment, he chose to kill himself.

______________________________________________

Erm so I might've yapped a little too much but it's about Sang-woo so who cares am i right? 😂

Please actually read all of it 💔🙏🏻

TL;DR: Sang-woo is a complex and good written character that the dummies can't handle xx 💕

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 2

I’m going to write a book someday, I swear and none of you people are going to know it’s me but if/when I do it’s going to be a football (soccer) romance because apparently that’s all I can write.

table of contents

i would die for you in secret

It all goes strangely quick; from the doctor’s appointments to the baby shower to holding Clare (the tiniest thing you’ve ever seen) to your chest as she continues to take her first breaths. She has your last name and she’s just so fucking small.

The name Bean sticks and it’s apt because she’s about the size of one. 

You’ve whittled down your clients and passed them off to colleagues for the past seven months, and the only one left is the same client that started you as a manager. They’re a small band (in size, not in following) and you just couldn’t bear to part with them. So you don’t, which is why Clare is two months old and with her nanny while you’re in your office meeting with the frontman.

“I think this is a bad idea,” you tell Calum, but he’s only half-listening.

“Why’s that?” asks his girlfriend and bassist Sarah. Unlike Calum, she’s actually paying attention but that still doesn’t mean she’ll agree with you.

You frown. “For the obvious reasons. I’m tired. I haven’t been out of my house in three months. I have a hard time showering regularly.”

Sarah shrugs. “That’s a load of shit, and you know it. You’re a damn good manager. You should come.”

You want to go to their concert, you really do. It’s just complicated. In all the time you’ve managed them they’ve hardly asked a thing from you. Calum was the one who got you the job despite the fact that band management wasn’t necessarily a skill you possessed.

“You’re a perfectionist,” he had said. “You’ll pick it up.”

You had, and it was exciting, but you’re just not sure going to their concert is a good idea.

“You’ll have your own dressing room,” Calum chimes in. “Comes with snacks.”

You waver for a moment. “Is there a couch?”

“Obviously,” he grins. “C’mon, stop being such a mum for a night. We’ll make sure everything is taken care of.”

—

Calum was right. Everything is taken care of, which means you have time to think. It’s been exactly eleven months since you last saw Jamie and despite Madeline’s best efforts to dress up and have a proper girls’ night tonight, you’re able to think properly think about him for once.

You hate it.

Madeline notices, of course she does, so she grabs your hand, sings in your face, and swings your arms so you don’t think of Jamie or of Bean, asleep in some back room with baby headphones and the nanny.

It’s a good set. Possibly the band’s best ever, so you hug them extra tight before beelining your room to hold Clare. You thank the nanny, slip her a backstage pass, and point her in the direction of the band. Madeline’s waiting in the hallway to lead the way (and flirt with the pianist) so when the door closes you are well and truly alone. 

Or, as alone as you can be with a baby.

You pick Clare up, flip off all the lights but one, and settle into the couch. She’s hungry and you’re tired, but Madeline’s driving tonight so it doesn’t matter. 

Roughly one month before Clare was born, you’d googled Jamie. For research, obviously, he’s the father of your child in the most technical sense of the word, so it’s natural to take an interest, right?

You’d breathed fucking hell, with your whole chest when the first articles and pictures had popped up. Apparently, Jamie had quit football (speculated to be due to the new gaffer from America) and joined the cast of Lust Conquers All, a show Madeline joked about going on but never did. You’re glad, now. And then he just disappears.

No recent posts on his socials, no outrageous news articles, nothing. You’d think he’s dead but that would certainly attract media attention so it’s more likely he’s partying in Ibiza where everyone is too intoxicated to care if the person they’re dancing on is a celebrity or not.

You decided right then and there that Clare would absolutely fucking not know about her father until she was at an appropriate age. What that age would be, you were supremely unsure. 

And of course, once she was born, it just made the choice all the easier. How could you corrupt something so innocent, so pure? No, Bean didn’t need to know her father was a royal fucking tart (pun most viciously intended).

“How’d you like your first concert, Bean?” you murmur, back in the present.

She doesn’t say anything, just blinks her eyes slow like she’s going to fall asleep again.

“Me too, girl,” you say. “Mummy is fucking knackered. And ready to retire. And maybe move to Majorca. You’d like it there, I think.”

It’s quite. You hear the low hum of people talking far away and the white noise of the auditorium, but otherwise you sit and enjoy the peace in the dark. 

You must have drifted off because you dream that the door opens and Jamie walks in. You suppose that’s what you get for thinking about him so much, and for holding his baby right now. He looks like he did on LCA, new hair and a slight slump to his shoulders. He’s more clothed in your dream, wearing awful skinny jeans that you had begged him to throw out on more than one occasion.

“They said you were back here,” dream-Jamie says. “And I saw fucking Madeline so I knew you weren’t far.” He stands in the doorway and it isn’t until Clare makes a noise that you realize you are very much awake.

He reaches for the light and you say a sharp “Don’t!” so he doesn’t, just freezes and looks so awfully sad that you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

But Clare’s here, and so Jamie is no longer on your list of people to care for. 

He says, “You alright?” and damn you still want to kiss him.

Instead you say, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Time doesn’t exist in this little dark room, the closest Clare will ever have to her family being together. Jamie says, “The lads and I- we’ve got a night off.”

“The lads.”

“From Richmond,” Jamie explains. “Gaffer took me back after I left City. We’ve been getting on.”

“You were at City again?” you ask before you can stop yourself. That’s news to you. As is the fact that Jamie is apparently friends with his teammates at Richmond. You were unaware that he thought much of them, or that they particularly liked him.

“Yeah, I-” he stops. “Is that a baby?”

You’d forgotten how well he sees in the dark. It’s a stupid question, and you won’t answer it. Jamie comes closer. “It is. The fuck did you get a baby from?”

You don’t say anything and Jamie blows out a breath. “Fucking hell. You’re with some bloke, have his kid, and here I am, stood like a fucking idiot.” He sighs again and rubs his face. “Fucking hell.”

He sits gingerly on the couch as if he expects you to reach out and slap him. Clare’s asleep, so you detach her from your chest, cover up, and position her comfortably in your arms. You have no idea when Madeline is coming back and until now, that hadn’t been a problem. 

Jamie smells the same, which might be the worst part because now you’re thinking of all the times he held you and the fact that he was actually a decent boyfriend for a while before deciding to be the world’s most massive prick. 

“Who is he, then?” Jamie asks. “Footballer? Musician? Doctor? Shit, tell me it ain’t that arsehole from Leeds.”

You say, “It’s not,” and hope Jamie will get the hint that you are not talking about this. 

He doesn’t.

“Came here to try to fix things,” he says. “I’ve been working on meself recently. Keeley broke up with me ages ago, said all this shit about accountability, and I dunno, it must’ve stuck.”

“Was that before or after the jacuzzi?” you pointedly ask, and Jamie winces.

“Alright, yeah, fair enough. After. Thought about you the whole time, not in the jacuzzi, you know what I mean, since we- since the last time I saw you and when I heard you were here it seemed like another chance. Makes fucking sense, though. Most people aren’t as stupid to let you go. Can’t believe you’ve got a whole fucking kid, though,” he continues. “Mad, innit? And you’re two years younger than me. Wouldn’t want one till I’m at least thirty, so I got four years left to fuck around. She’s a cute little bean, though.”

His words are a knife. 

They’re a reminder why Clare is yours and no one else’s. (Maybe Mads’s too, but she tells you at least once a day that Clare is the only child she’ll even tolerate). Jamie has no interest in fatherhood, in responsibility, in anything other than trying to fuck you. 

But it doesn’t help that he’s called her Bean, because it’s making your brain conjure domestic scenarios of the three of you as a happy family. Changing diapers at midnight together, or watching Clare eat a cupcake on her first birthday. Videoing her first steps to send to her grandparents. 

Jamie has lapsed into silence. But it’s a strange silence, and he’s looking at Clare’s face with just a hint of confusion.

“Oi,” he says, “that’s not- she’s not-”

You’re saved from replying by Madeline throwing open the door.

“Tartt,” she says venomously. She stomps toward him and grabs his ear. “Get the hell out!” She pulls him out the door and slams it shut behind him. The noise wakes Clare and she begins crying. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Bean,” Madeline coos, “I’m sorry.” She looks at you. “You alright?”

You shrug. “Surprised it took you so long to get here. Your radar’s usually better than that.” 

She grimaces. “I was distracted by an exceptionally attractive pianist who happened to mention that arsehole was here somewhere. I would have been here sooner but,” she gestures to her smudged lipstick.

You grin despite yourself. “Do you want to go back?”

Madeline shakes her head. “No, seeing Tartt has turned my stomach. You ready to go home?”

You nod your head, gather Clare’s things, and successfully make it home with no further trace of Jamie.

next chapter

[ryoko-loves-roses]

Gotcha~

Lee!The Recruiter + Ler!In-Ho

A/N: HAPPY NATIONAL TICKLE DAYYY!!! Literally... this man deserved it so bad. I had so much fun writing this fic! Thank you to the person who asked for this. :) Have a great rest of your day, everyone. Summary : It was an ordinary day of work, or so The Recruiter thought... but little did he know that this 'ordinary' day would take a turn for the worst. ═════════════════════════════════════════ Ever since that stupid mistake, The Recruiter could not live the punishment down. Despite having a cocky smile on his face whilst he tried to recruit new people to play the Squid Games, it was always in the back of his mind. Every walk he took, it felt like he still had fingers digging into his sides and stomach - as humiliating as it may be, The Recruiter let out a sigh, picking up his briefcase again, just to take the subway to another station, to continue this loop of stringing vulnerable people into the cycle of death games. It’s been a few weeks now at least, and the thought was always in the back of The Recruiter’s mind. He can’t believe he let himself be humbled that quickly, and in that humiliating way? He should’ve slapped himself, angry at himself for being extremely childish and pathetic. After another day of work, he arrived at the disguised base. It would be hell if someone like Gi-Hun found this place, but it was really only The Recruiter’s ‘home’ to put it simply, since he’s a human, who gets tired… (even though he’s a fucking lunatic but yk we all have our faults LOL) The Recruiter walked swiftly into one of the bedrooms, sitting down with a tired sigh. He began to take off his shoes, untying them first, but he froze in his tracks when he heard three knocks on the bedroom door. That was weird - Usually, if he was needed somewhere, they’d phone him in on the walkie-talkie With a cautious stance, The Recruiter put a hand on the doorknob, carefully opening the door, though fully expecting someone to attack him - But no.

He froze once he saw that familiar black mask, he practically stumbled backward in shock and fear. I honestly think the one thing that could get him fearful like this was the Frontman, because he didn’t want to die yet - The Frontman didn’t say a word as he entered the room, his expensive shoes clicking against the hard, tiled floor. Fuck fuck fuck. What did The Recruiter do now? He’s been doing everything by the book, right? I mean - he hasn’t successfully been followed! What could he - A low chuckle escaped The Frontman’s lips as he raised up a hand, gently removing his mask. In-Ho glanced at the floor, where The Recruiter was currently sitting, practically frightened out of his mind - “Get up.” In-Ho ordered, and just like that, The Recruiter scrambled to find his footing. Once he stood up, In-Ho put his mask that was in his hand on the bedside table, and this is when The Recruiter started to question everything. What the fuck did he do this time? “Sir, I swear I have been doing everything asked of me-!” He tried to plead, but In-Ho only let out a low chuckle. “You think I’m here to punish you again?” He asked with a taunting voice before continuing. “It’s quite the opposite actually. I wanted to congratulate you.”

... Congratulate? Somehow, The Recruiter didn’t believe that at all. What the hell was this guy up to? “..Sir… pardon my asking, but - congratulate me?” I mean, The Recruiter could not believe it. Usually, he wouldn’t get any sort of praise, and for THE FRONTMAN to come to HIS room personally to tell him that? Absurd. In-Ho let out a sigh, a bit irritated about the height difference between the two of them while he talked, so he pointed to the bed.* “Sit.” The Recruiter let out a low sigh, but did as he was asked of him, …like a dog, which In-Ho is the ‘owner’ in this instance. Still not sure what this was about, The Recruiter questioned the man in front of him, which even he was nervous to do. “What is this fo -” Tch - The man was cut off by a poke to his ribs by none other than In-Ho, which like clockwork, made The Recruiter jolt in his seat, immediately bringing his knees to his chest to try (and fail) to block out the ticklishness of it all. “HEhy-! No! Wait-” The poor guy didn’t even get a chance to ask what the hell he did this time. In-Ho leaned down, a noticeable smirk on his face as he latched both of his hands onto The Recruiter’s ribcage, giving the man little time to prepare before immediately drilling all ten fingers into his ribs. The sound that the cocky man let out was deafening.

“FUHuHuHUck-! HEheHEY-!!” The Recruiter’s laughter was met by the smug smirk on In-Ho’s face. “My dearest apologies, but I was a bit bored after a few weeks of not hearing this sound.”  Damn this sarcastic bastard.. - “IHIHII DIHIIHIDNT DOHOOHOo ANYTHIHIHihiIHIng-!” As a reflex, both of The Recruiter’s hands gripped at In-Ho’s wrists, but he wasn’t budging as he dug mercilessly into The Recruiter’s ribcage - “I know you didn’t do anything… but I was getting tired of finding reasons to tickle you shitless.” In-Ho replied, absolutely no remorse in his tone as he annihilated The Recruiter’s ribs. The Recruiter fell back onto the bed, squirming like his life depended on it, but just to keep him secure… In-Ho decided to straddle the man’s hips, effectively holding him down while still drilling his fingers into his ribs with a smile. The man let out an ear-piercing screech, his head falling back and hitting the pillow - In-Ho let out a low, dark chuckle, deciding to make it worse. He shoved both of his hands underneath The Recruiter’s shirt, easily digging into his bare ribs, and holy flying fuck - If you had seen this guy right at this moment, you would never have thought that his job title would be brutal, right? He was laughing like a child, with a giddy smile as he squealed with ticklish delight (or torment?) Even so, his legs began to kick outward as a ticklish instinct, but luckily for In-Ho, he was straddled tightly on The Recruiter’s hips, wrapping his feet underneath him like a hold, so he wasn’t budging at all - I mean… The Recruiter could’ve used his hands right? Well, In-Ho was relentless, and even if The Recruiter tried to hit him off, he could easily block the flying punch.

“IHIHIiII- BhhAHahHA-” Goddamn - the once cocky salesman was reduced to nothing but a helpless, giddy, ticklish, and squirmy puddle, by The Frontman himself, and the worst part was that In-Ho never planned to stop anytime soon - that much was clear. “Damn… now I'm wondering why the hell i hired you for such a ruthless job when you die with laughter with only a few pokes.” In-Ho taunted, his fingers brutally scribbling and digging into each rib, even in between them - But, when The Recruiter had trouble breathing, In-Ho decided to stop… only to let him catch his breath. He continued to hold the other down, smiling down at him.* “I’ll make you a deal.” The frontman began to say, his smile turning into something more… devious. …Now The Recruiter was listening. “Let’s play a game, and if you win… I’ll stop tickling you, - but if you lose…” He trailed off, experimentally hovering his hands above The Recruiter’s ribs, - giving him the well-needed message. How ironic. The Recruiter, who is used to giving others games, is going to be forced to participate in one that will determine if he’s too humiliated to go to sleep tonight - Without much of a choice, he let out a shaky sigh, nodding his head. “..i’ll play..” And just like that, the game was off. In-Ho smiled, “Great. Raise your arms.” Again, without much of a choice, The Recruiter did as he was told, raising his arms above his head.

In-Ho smirked - that same fucking smirk that The Recruiter should be scared shitless about. “There is only one rule: if you can go atleast one minute without laughing, you win.” The Frontman stated, rubbing his hands together before teasingly wiggling his hands right above The Recruiter. He wasn’t tickling him yet… but was damn well about to. The Recruiter tensed up at even that little action, - knowing this would be a challenge for him. Without much of a thought, In-Ho’s wiggly fingers came crashing down into The Recruiter’s armpits without much of a warning, and holy shit - The Recruiter almost lost then and there, but he quickly bit his lip in time, which made In-Ho chuckle lowly. “So close… I’ll get you to break soon, trust me on it.” Right now, the only sounds In-Ho was getting out of The Recruiter were undignified whimpers, which was adorable and extremely pathetic to be honest. He clenched his hands into fists, his eyes shutting tightly as he fought HARD to stop himself from laughing. He thought In-Ho would at least be easy on him for this, but nope - he was brutal. like always.

He was absolutely dying - his face was red just because he was  trying to keep the laughter in, and it’s only been 20 seconds. In-Ho smirked devilishly. “Still not breaking? Hm, We’ll see about that tough guy.” In-Ho then shoved his hands right underneath The Recruiter’s shirt, smirking when his eyes widened - and with one word, all hell broke loose. ”Gotcha”~ One drill into his ribs and he practically combusted. Holy shit - who decided to hire such a ticklish man? The irony and hilarity of this situation was absolute gold. He tried to scrunch up, trying to lower his arms - but In-Ho smirked. “No. You lost, remember?” He reminded, this time forcing The Recruiter’s arms to stay up with one of his free hands before MERCILESSLY attacking The Recruiter’s ribs with the other. “This is your punishment.” ”IHIHIHII HAhaHAHATE YOHOHOOHOu-!” Ah… people say ridiculous things when they’re getting tickled out of their fucking mind, huh? - Maybe next time, The Recruiter won’t open the door.-

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Would you consider writing a Reload/SKOM James x tomboy!reader? Maybe she’s a car mechanic (and that’s how they met, cause I think around that era he really got into cars) so she doesn’t really do make up, sexy outfits, etc. but she starts to notice that James never introduces her as “girlfriend”, but only as a friend. At first she thinks that he wants to keep relationship private but then she finds out that James is a bit ashamed of dating a “tomboy”; so out of spite she asks her best friend for a makeover and goes on a date with someone else? James finds out, crushes the date and finally admits he screwed up?

I loved this idea, I hope you like it!❤ (Girls, always dress as you want and not for others, no one has the right to change. Be yourself!💕)

__________

Tomboy in a Twist of Heels

I’d always been more at home with engines than I was in a shopping mall or a fancy restaurant. I loved getting my hands dirty, working on cars, and fixing whatever needed fixing. So when I first met James, it wasn’t because of his fame or the fact that he was the frontman of Metallica — it was because he was a car guy, just like me. He’d show up at my garage with his collection of classic cars, and I’d spend hours helping him with whatever project he had going on. He was intense, smart, and easy to talk to — especially when the subject was cars.

We never really talked about our relationship. He’d come by, we’d hang out, maybe grab a beer after work. I didn’t care about the Hollywood rock star life — the leather jackets, the wild parties, the “groupies” that were probably lingering around him at every corner. And I didn’t care about all the attention he got. That wasn’t why I liked him. It was the way he treated me when we were together. The way he listened when I talked about carburetors or suspension systems.

But there was one thing that started to bug me. James would always introduce me as a “friend.” A friend. No “girlfriend,” no “this is Y/N, she’s special to me.” It was always just “friend.”

At first, I thought maybe he wanted to keep things low-key. After all, he was in the spotlight all the time, and he wasn’t the kind of guy who needed more attention on his private life. I could get that. But after a while, it started to eat at me. I wasn’t a “friend,” I was his girlfriend. We’d spent months together, had plenty of intimate moments, but he never once acknowledged it outside of our little bubble. Why wouldn’t he just own it? Why wouldn’t he call me what I was?

One afternoon, after yet another “friend” introduction, I finally decided I’d had enough. I needed to know what was going on. If he wasn’t going to tell me, I was going to make him see me in a way that he couldn’t ignore.

I replayed that moment in my head. “This is Y/N, she’s a friend.” The words stung, but it wasn’t just that. There was something in the way he said it — like he was embarrassed. And that’s when it hit me. He wasn’t just keeping our relationship private. He was ashamed of me. Ashamed of me being the girl I was — the girl who didn’t care about makeup or dresses, who didn’t fit into the stereotypical rock star girlfriend mold. I was a tomboy — and that was what he couldn’t handle.

The realization hit like a slap in the face. And it made me angry. Not because I was ashamed of who I was — but because I realized that he was.

I called up Mia, my best friend, and filled her in.

"I need a change," I said, wiping grease off my hands as I leaned against the workbench, staring at the open hood of a Mustang. "I need to make James really see me."

Mia raised an eyebrow. “A makeover?”

I winced a little, but nodded. “Yeah. Maybe if I look different, maybe if I look like someone else, he’ll realize what he’s missing. Maybe then he’ll actually see me, instead of just his ‘buddy from the shop.’”

Mia didn’t need to be told twice. A few days later, I found myself sitting in a salon chair — me, the girl who hadn’t used a curling iron since high school. Mia styled my hair, helped me with makeup (subtle, just enough to highlight what I had), and picked out a dress I never thought I’d wear — a deep red, tight-fitting thing that hugged my curves in all the right places. It felt weird, walking around in heels instead of boots or sneakers. But it also felt… good.

When I stepped into the mirror, I barely recognized the woman who was staring back at me. I wasn’t used to this version of myself. But something about it — the look, the confidence — made me feel like I could finally take control. Like I could be seen.

I wasn’t sure exactly what I was hoping for, but I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to keep letting him ignore what we were.

That night, I had plans to meet Nick, some guy I’d met at a local club a few weeks back. Nothing serious — just a way to make a statement. To show James what he was missing. To prove that I wasn’t just going to sit around waiting for him to figure his shit out.

The restaurant was fancy — the kind of place where the lights are dimmed just enough for people to think they’re on a date but not enough for anyone to actually see your face clearly. When I stepped inside, I saw James. He was walking past the window, probably heading to some meeting or another, but the moment he saw me, he froze.

I turned toward Nick, putting my attention on him, flashing a grin like I didn’t have a care in the world. But I noticed the way James’s eyes lingered on me, how he tried to make sense of the woman sitting there. The woman I was now.

I could feel James staring, could feel the weight of his confusion. But I didn’t care. I didn’t.

I got up from the table, purposefully walking past him without even acknowledging his presence.

“Y/N?” James’s voice cut through the air, rougher than usual.

I looked at him with no more emotion than a passing acquaintance. “Hey, James,” I said, before turning back to Nick. “This is Nick. We’re just getting to know each other.”

I could see James trying to figure out if this was real or some kind of joke. He was caught off guard, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Not anymore.

“Can we have a word?” James asked, his voice low, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite place.

I stood up, taking a slow breath as I gave Nick an apologetic smile.

“I’ll be right back. Can you give us a moment?” I asked, before stepping away, my heels clicking sharply against the floor as I made my way toward James.

James immediately stepped forward, his face tense, his hands in his pockets as he walked with me outside. The chill of the night air hit me, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body. James fell into step beside me, but neither of us said anything for a few seconds.

We stopped in front of my car, the silence hanging between us until I turned to face him. “What is it, James?”

He seemed to struggle with his words, running a hand through his hair before looking at me, his eyes filled with something I hadn’t seen before—guilt. “Look, we need to talk.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then talk.”

He hesitated, his voice low, more raw than usual. “I screwed up, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve never acted like I was ashamed of you. I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle things, and I thought—hell, I thought you deserved someone better, someone who fit this image of what a ‘girlfriend’ is supposed to look like. But I was wrong. I was just a damn coward.”

His words hung in the air, and I felt my chest tighten as I looked at him, trying to absorb what he was saying. This was a lot. But it wasn’t enough to make the anger go away just yet.

“You were ashamed of me?” I asked, my voice trembling a little with the weight of it all. “Of who I am?”

“I know it sounds stupid,��� he said quickly, running a hand over his face. “But I was scared. Scared of what people would think—scared of what it meant to be with someone like you. Someone who doesn’t fit the mold, someone who’s not trying to be someone else. I see it now, though. I see how messed up I was.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a mixture of hurt and relief flooding through me. “You should’ve figured that out before, James. Not after I had to make you see me.”

“I know,” he said, voice full of regret. “You’re right. But I’m here now. I don’t want to hide it anymore. I want the world to know you’re mine. You’re my girlfriend. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of us.”

I stood there for a moment, considering his words. The anger was still there, but it was fading slowly. “It’s not just about saying it. It’s about showing it. You should’ve shown me that from the start.”

He nodded, his eyes softening. “You’re right. I won’t mess it up again. I swear it.”

I let out a breath, the tension leaving my body. “I’m still pissed, James. But… I’m willing to listen.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere, almost a whisper. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out for mine. “Can I make it up to you?”

I looked up at him, still unsure but letting myself believe in his words for once. “You can start by giving me a real date. No hiding. Just you and me.”

A small smile broke through his serious expression. “It’s a deal.”

He reached for me, pulling me into a tight hug. “I’m not letting you go. Not again.”

I pulled away a bit, feeling a sharp ache in my feet. These damn heels were killing me. I let out a long sigh, wincing. “James, I swear I’m gonna lose my mind with these shoes. I hate them. They’re killing me.”

He chuckled, glancing down at my feet. “I’m sure you look great in them, but I can see how that’s not much of a comfort right now.”

“I’m done,” I muttered, shifting my weight and practically glaring at my shoes. “I’m leaving them right here.”

Before he could say anything, I kicked the heels off with a frustrated huff, watching them tumble to the side.

James raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face as he watched me. “You really just gonna leave them there?”

“I’m not walking another step in these.” I crossed my arms, trying to look defiant, though part of me felt a little ridiculous standing barefoot on the pavement.

James’s grin softened into something more playful, but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes. “You know, you’re something else, Y/N”

Then, without any warning, he stepped forward, bent down, and scooped me up into his arms, bridal style. I froze, caught off guard as I gasped in surprise.

“James, what the—” I started, but the suddenness of it stopped me mid-sentence.

He looked down at me, his expression half-amused, but something else—gentle—seemed to slip through. “You’re not walking barefoot on the street. I’m taking you home. I’m not gonna let you suffer in those heels anymore.”

I blinked at him, my heart racing, my feet dangling in the air. “What? Are you—seriously?”

“Yup,” he said, grinning, but there was more sincerity in his voice now. “I’m here to save the day. I owe you that much.”

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “You owe me?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice softer now, the teasing replaced by real regret. “For not treating you like you deserve earlier. For hiding you away. For being an idiot. Let me make it up to you. Even if it’s just carrying you to the car.”

I chuckled despite myself, my mood lightening. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right.”

And with that, he began striding confidently toward his car, holding me effortlessly like I was the most important thing in the world. I relaxed into his arms, feeling the weight of the night lifting away, the tension between us slowly dissolving.

He opened the door, carefully placing me in the passenger seat, and gave me a warm, almost apologetic wink. “Next time, I’ll make sure you’re wearing something more comfortable. And I’ll make sure you’re never ashamed of who you are. I promise.”

I smiled softly, feeling something shift inside me. “I’ll hold you to that,” I said, looking at him as he closed the door gently.

He walked around to the driver’s side, his movements more tender than usual. As he started the car, I let out a soft sigh, finally feeling the tension melt away.

James glanced over at me as we pulled out, his eyes soft but focused. Then, without saying anything, he rested his hand gently on my thigh, his touch grounding, reassuring. It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of it spread through me, making me realize something.

Maybe it wasn’t about the shoes or the date or any of that. Maybe it was about him finally seeing me. The real me. The one I didn’t need to hide. And that was enough.

I looked at him, a soft smile tugging at my lips as I rested my hand on his. He glanced over at me, giving me that same small, sincere smile in return.

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Papa HCs!

(I think they're all autistic)

Primo

Primo likes to spend a lot of time by himself or with his ghouls. He doesn't care for social gatherings and likes to keep himself to himself. He's fairly good at small talk but he absolutely hates it. When he was younger, Primo masked a lot. He tried to be outgoing, which was expected of him, especially because he was very open about his desire to be the frontman of the project. He'd finish each day absolutely exhausted. He'd have no energy to do the things he enjoyed, instead he spent a lot of time stuck in bed or dissociating in front of a mirror. It was only until he met his ghouls that he learnt how to take care of himself. His ghouls taught him about preserving his social battery, how to avoid burn out, and most importantly, that they care about him and are always happy to help him. Now that he's older, he's got a lot better at taking care of his wellbeing and asking for help when he needs it. His favourite part of getting old is that people don't care what he does or how he behaves as much as they did when he was younger. Now, when he spends all day in his greenhouse, no one questions what he's doing, or when he stares at the flames in his fireplace, people assume he's just doing 'generic old man things', whereas those close to him know that he's stimming.

Secondo

Secondo has very little problem with big social gatherings and loves to be the life and soul of the party. He loves meeting new people at parties too. Secondo has a hard time holding down relationships with people, both romantically and platonically. He loves having hookups though as it gives him a chance to be close to someone while them going separate ways afterwards is expected. Secondo is aroace, which usually shocks most people he tells. He does try to explain that his lack of sexual attraction doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy sex, and he enjoys doing romantic things even though he doesn't feel romantic attraction either, but people very rarely understand. Secondo likes being a sugar daddy. The rules and boundaries are very clear and he gets what he wants out of relationships without genuine romantic interest being expected. He also has a platonic partner who visits him on a schedule. They both organise what they're going to do when they next meet up a week in advance to give him plenty of time to prepare.

Terzo

Terzo masked HARD when he was younger. Nihil constantly made remarks about how he behaved, especially about how flamboyant he was. He was told off for being rude a lot, but used to get really annoyed when no one would explain what he'd actually done wrong. He spent a lot of time learning the 'correct' and 'acceptable' way to interact with people. Because of how much he masked, he was constantly burnt out and later developed depression and self worth issues. Terzo began to isolate himself. Like they asked, he stopped being loud, he stopped being flamboyant, and he stopped being rude. He actually stopped speaking all together. After all this, Sister and Nihil still seemed to have a problem with him. He didn't know what he was doing wrong. His self worth issues stayed with him the whole way through his life. Being dragged off stage was the final piece of proof he needed that he wasn't and never would be good enough for his parents or anyone.

Copia

Copia has always been the 'weird kid'. His obsession with rats was usually enough to put most people off. Unlike Terzo, a lot of Copia's behaviour was excused, so he never felt the need to mask. Terzo didn't particularly like Copia in the brief time they knew each other because of this. Copia picks up sarcasm and jokes with ease and both come very easily to him. On the other hand, social cues, having to read between the lines, and oftentimes, other people's innuendos go right over his head. He spends a lot of time in his room, not necessarily to avoid people but moreso for the fact he keeps all his favourite things in his room on display. Copia has a lot of sensory aversions. His costume designer and tailor have a list of fabrics they cannot use. Copia also has a lot of food aversions as he's really picky with textures. He has few safe foods, the large majority of them being pasta, pizza, and any beige carb. Copia is closer to his ghouls than any of the other Papas were. When he's feeling overstimulated, he has Aether 'squash his soul back into his body' by lying on him like a compression blanket. Copia's very open about his autism with his ghouls and they're all very supportive and mindful of him.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 4th: Rejection | Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier | Lost a/n: pre-steddie post-s4, angst with soft, happy ending because I'm a marshmallow. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. 

That’s it. There are other hobbies, of course, other things that bring him joy– D&D, fantasy novels, art– but ever since he was a kid, whenever a teacher would ask what he wants to be when he grows up, it’s always the same answer. 

I wanna play music. 

As a kid, it seems less daunting. He just has to practice, he just has to play, he just has to have the passion to make it big. To be the next Kirk Hammett, or Eddie Van Halen, or Ozzy Osbourne if he can teach himself to carry a tune. 

Making friends is hard, but he manages to find a few in middle school who can play the instruments he can’t– drums, bass. Eddie takes the role of frontman, not exactly a singer still but he’s charismatic enough to get away with it at their school talent show.

High school comes, and Corroded Coffin is revamped. New vibe, new members. He’s older now, a little more jaded with each rejection. 

No one wants their EP, recorded by hand in Gareth’s garage onto cheap cassette tapes. 

No venue will let them play, and Eddie knows that it’s probably because they’re in high school but hadn’t The Cure started in high school? 

No one believes in them, trying to push them– especially Eddie– to consider more successful careers, safer paths. 

But eventually, they book a regular gig at The Hideout and Eddie’s certain this is it. This is their big break. Until they play week after week, staring at the same five plastered faces every Tuesday. If they can prove themselves though, the owner will have to let them play on a Friday or Saturday.

He never does. 

The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes after Eddie’s final senior year. Being accused of murder should have beefed up his credibility if nothing else– he’s already been traumatized, terrorized, and hunted like a goddamn dog, nevermind almost killed via hoard of angry mutant bats. Surely, he’ll catch at least one break. 

And then the owner at The Hideout tells him he can’t play there anymore. 

The hoards of people who still blame him for Chrissy Cunningham’s death are too much for him to manage himself and, in his words, Eddie’s driving away good business. His heart shatters, his breath catches, and Eddie leaves without a word because if he were to try to speak, all that would come out is either an enraged scream or a choked sob and Eddie doesn’t want to risk either. 

He drives around aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, just circles around the outskirts of Hawkins. Maybe I’ll just leave, he thinks. Indianapolis might be far enough. Maybe Chicago. Fuck it, maybe Argyle and Jonathan can put me up for awhile in California. Eddie wants to go somewhere that makes him forget just how lost he is, how unwanted and forgotten he’s become. Being the social pariah is only fun when he’s making speeches on cafeteria tables, not when it boots him out of his one and only career path. 

Somehow, he ends up in Loch Nora. He can’t face Wayne right now, he doesn’t want to bother Robin or Nancy, he’s already let Jeff, Gareth, and Freak down in the worst way imaginable, and if he goes to his mom’s or Chrissy’s tombstones with one more sob story, he’s afraid they’ll start haunting him. Steve’s become a friend over the last year or so it makes sense. Process of elimination and all of that. 

He doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to realize that he’d started driving that way before he ruled everyone else out. 

Steve welcomes him like he always does and offers him a beer, sitting with him in companionable silence on the couch as they watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail and laugh at the same parts. Eddie knows Steve can see that he’s upset but instead of asking questions Eddie isn’t ready to answer, he just sits a little closer with their thighs touching and one arm strewn over the back of the couch, just barely grazing Eddie’s shoulder. 

The movie ends and Steve moves to switch the tape when Eddie finally speaks up. 

“The Hideout kicked us out. Can’t play there anymore.” 

Eddie sees Steve freeze from behind before turning, his eyebrows knitted together above his nose. “Are you fucking serious?” 

He nods and sighs, lifting one hand to chew on this thumbnail as he looks at the wall beyond Steve. 

“That’s bullshit, dude. Why? Because of the protestors or whatever?” 

He nods again. 

“Want me to go down there? I’ve still got my bat around here somewhere. It might be nice to swing at something that’s not trying to like, eat me.” 

Eddie huffs a small laugh through his nose and meets Steve’s eyes, their righteous anger blending with his own as he sees Steve cross his arms over his chest. It’s hard not to stare. 

 “Well, then at least I wouldn’t be the only guy in this town wanted for murder.” 

Steve shakes his head and just chooses another movie, Howard the Duck this time, before returning to his spot on the couch. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite movies but he can’t focus to save his life because Steve is even closer now, his arm draped fully across Eddie’s shoulders and creating a space for Eddie to easily just… rest. So he does. 

The title sequence starts and Eddie’s head drops to the side, resting on Steve’s shoulder. It’s one of his favorites but he can’t follow the plot to save his life. All he can focus on is the way Steve’s fingers trace symptoms and shapes against the cotton of his tee shirt, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of Steve’s head leaning against the top of his. 

“I had a new song and everything,” Eddie whispers, surprising both himself and Steve. 

Steve hums and tightens his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, a ghost of a hug. “Play it for me sometime?”

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. And maybe he still can.

[emmettisqueer]

The Toxicity of a ship that I don't understand how it's toxic

Ngl, Love Squid Games, it's rotted my brain for the last few weeks, and I've rewatched S2 like 4 or 5 times already (Watching for 5th or 6th time soon)

And something I've found strange, being a person who watches YT (A lot), is the controversy with the 457 ship (Gi Hun/In Ho) and how people either hate it or love it. (I like the ship personally, just no Sexual implications towards it)

Like people calling it a toxic ship because In Ho is a bad guy and likes to watch him suffer. Their ship is basically VillainxHero which If I'm not wrong, I've never heard anyone call that ship a toxic one, so why the fuck is it considered toxic??? In Ho, the guy who sees his past self in Gi Hun and deep down rooting for the man? Sure, it's most definitely one-sided when In Ho is dressed up in his frontman façade Gi Hun despises him, which he has the right to. But In Ho, when he is putting up the Young il façade, he is enjoying the games, and possibly even enjoying his group's company. Just like Il Nam did in season 1, why do people automatically think if he does something bad all his personalities are awful, and just enjoying people suffer?

All that man does throughout the season with Gi Hun is indirectly mock him for picking the umbrella in season 1 and betrays him at the end of the season. Because he's the Frontman, and he has to stop Gi Hun from reaching the main room. He was clearly stalking the man in between s1 win and s2 when the games start. And I quote, "You should've got on that plane." But another quote he says in the end of s1 is that he should just forget it happened, and to pretend it was a dream. In Ho wants him to forget all that trauma, so Gi Hun can have a good life. Unlike himself cause when he won in 2015 he also did not want to use the money as he also saw it as blood money. His wife died in 2018 2 years after his win. Why would he not save his wife? It made no sense? (In 2024 when s2 takes place, it was her 5th year death anniversary.) Unless, like Gi Hun, In Ho went M.I.A after his win, which could definitely be the answer to why he didn't save his wife. But that is all speculation and hasn't been revealed yet. (At least to my knowledge)

The only toxic bit of the ship is the stalking, and him killing his friends, Which technically he only killed 1, cause Sangwoo killed Sae-Byoek and Sangwoo killed himself. But Gi Hun blames the Frontman, because he runs the games. Which Is another toxic thing. But see how it's directed towards his Frontman façade and not In Ho/Young il himself. Gi Hun hates a part of In Ho, which he doesn't know is In Ho/Young il. Young il is just observing the guy because he is trying to understand him, and stop him from doing his plan. The Frontman is doing his job to stop Gi Hun from stopping the games.

The ship is not as bad as people say it is. In my opinion. It's just two previous traumatized winners who went down different paths after their win.

Also, something I'd like to point out is that another ship that is 100% a toxic ship, no one takes a second glance at it and love it, which is the BakuDeku ship. Like if you ship these two but hate 457 ship is a bit weird. Like you're going to hate on a ship that has minor toxicity and then like a ship of some dude who bullied the other dude since they were kids? Don't get me started on how he told the other to kill himself. You're telling me that ship isn't more toxic than the old men Yaoi? (No. I do not hate the Bkdk ship. It's just not something I ship. Personally.) Please make it, make sense. Also, I would like to say this tangent is mainly directed towards the Squid Game fandom and the people who dislike the ship. I am not saying you have to change your mind on the ship, I respect your opinion. I would love to hear your opinions on this!

Love you all /p <3

[i-love-lilies]

Se-mi x OC Anything for you - Chapter two

Hihihi it started to get interesting

The man was in front of the groupe, explaining the game.

« Green light red light ? Again ? Is it always the first game ? » my dad just nodded and shush me. I couldn’t believe that I was here, looking at this horrible game. How could they handle that. How could I just watch it and do nothing ? I just was a monster just like them, nothing different from them. The game start, it’s so boring. The game are long and nothing really happen. I look at my phone again, no message, shit. I think she’s really angry.

The first player been eliminated, a woman, more or less my age i would say. And then people started to scream and run, of course been eliminated too. It’s always the same, every single years. They didn’t know they could die, no one explain that to us before accept to play the game and when 456 try, they didn’t believe him. Of course they didn’t, that crazy, why people would do that to them ? People like me, like my father or our host. For money, like them, it’s always for money. All the collaborators worked on the game, it organizations and to chose different games. The entertainment is not for us at first, but for again more wealthy people than us, the VIP. Psycho…I look at the screen, a lot of eliminated player were at the back of the play room. All died.

I didn’t pay much attention to the end of the game, I didn’t want to watch that and when it finally end I realize that our host wasn’t here anymore. My dad stood up so I follow him and we go talk about this first game with the other collaborators.

« I think 456 will be a problem this year, he’s not here for the money… » said my dad

« For sure, but I’m sure the frontman will do something, he won’t be a problem longer. » respond a woman. Of course, if this man cause too much problems, he will quickly been eliminated for a strange reason. I take a look to the screen, players were on their dormitory. They started to become agitated, but then, the piggy bank started to fill up with wad of bills.

« So, the frontman have a surprise for you, but before that, the players choose to vote. If the majority decide to leave, they will leave. » said the waiters. That was interesting, with a little bit of luck I will return home soon to see Se-mi and apologize to her.

The first man who vote was 456, and he choose to stop. I don’t understand, he already win the game, come again even if he know what happen and then just stop at the first game ? The score was tight, like really tight and player go one by one vote. I could understand they wanted to stay, they all need this money and the price they could have if they go now is not enough. But why staying and die when you can just go and survive.

I start to feel weird, I have a very bad feeling. Not just that the majority would stay… no, more. Like a curse. Something is happening and I don’t know what or how it would be terrible. But the only thing that I know for sure is that is bad.

« Player 380 » call the guy with a square mask. Player 380 move forward to the machine and…

« Oh fuck. » it was Se-mi. I feel my legs shaking, no, it’s impossible. She couldn’t do that to me. I need her to be alive. I just couldn’t hear the world around me. But it was crashing around me, breaking my peace and my heart. I just can’t loose her. My heartbeat and my breath go faster, and a deep anger take my stomach. My eyes started watering and my mouth was shaking. That bitch go to those stupid game without telling me, and she will die here. She have to choose X, to go home and survive. She’s not that idiot to continue. I propose to pay all her debt, she didn’t need to stay. Nor to go to those stupid games !

O

I close my eyes and lower my head. « Fucking slut… why ? » a tears running down my cheek. I could do anything for her and she just go kill herself without telling me ?

« Everything is going right honey ? » ask my dad

« Yes sure » I said between my teeth.

I can’t let her kill herself, if she has to stay in I would do anything to make her leave this place.

I need to talk to the frontman,

I’m sure that with a bit of money he would let her go… maybe a lot. But I’ll give him whatever he want to let her leave. Scores was equals when the last player been called, « Player 001 ». A man move forward, like the other before him. And without real hesitation press O, just like Se-mi. Oh shit… Okay, I really need to talk to the frontman.

But when the man look at the other players and so, the camera that we were watching them with. I see him, the frontman. The frontman was on the game. The world was moving around me, how could I get Se-mi out of this place without him. The others collaborators started to speak, chocked, just like me.

« Why would he do that ? » « Oh my god… did he want to die ? » « what madness » « that incredible » « very good surprise. »

Everyone was thinking something different, when one was questioning his idea to go to the game, other were impressed and were laughing.

« He would never disappoint us ! »

He’s an idiot too, how could I get out Se-mi if his on the game too ?

—> Master list

[writersblockiskillingme]

Ethan sharing his girlfriend/SO with his bandmates because she brought up the idea of group sex once. He doesn't tell her until she gets there and he comes back from the kitchen and whispers it in her ear when Damiano is feeling her up. She gets a little scared and leans on Ethan the entire time and he's right there reassuring her and making sure they don't do anything to make her uncomfortable while he's also joining in.

Three Makes a Group | Damiano David & Ethan Torchio

Pairing: Damiano David x Måneskin!reader x Ethan Torchio

Summary: After bringing up the idea of group sex to your boyfriend Ethan, you have to deal with the consequences of your dirty mind.

Warning/s: smut, just pure smut, spanking, prising, cum talk, dirty talk, dom!Ethan, pussy drunk Damiano, sub!reader, choking, name calling, group sex, threesome, swearing

Author's note: so this is the first time that I'm writing smut. Like... for real. And not only that, it's also the first time that I'm writing something poly. So, I'm sorry if it's bad, I really tried. Anyways, enjoy you, nasty. 😏

You didn't exactly remember that you were talking about that topic with your handsome boyfriend Ethan until a gorgeous frontman showed up at your house, more precisely your kitchen, for a reason that was extremely different than usually.

It was about a week ago when Ethan and you were watching some shitty move that somehow had more sex scenes than an actual plot. You were both snuggled up next to each other under the blanket placed on your sofa as you ate popcorn. Suddenly, just as you thought that a girl and that dude in the movie were about to finally have a normal civil conversation, they started to do everything, but talk. Another girl's love interest showed up and all three of them started to go at it. While watching that scene, you suddenly remembered one of your dirty fantasies.

You don't exactly know what the hell came over you when you started to speak about it with Ethan. It started out as a curious question when you asked him if he ever had group sex before he met you and if he did what was it like. You also said it so innocently that poor Ethan almost choked on his popcorn. But, no. It turned out that he never had group sex, but he said that it would probably be a great experience, sure. After that you simply said "okay" and completely dropped the topic. You felt embarrassed for one reason or another and Ethan felt completely shocked. He simply couldn't believe that you would just ask him that, but then dropped the topic like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like you didn't just ask him what group sex would feel like. It felt like you were asking him where the remote was. Ethan liked that. He found it very amusing. After that little, innocent, conversation, he couldn't get the idea of group sex with you out of his mind.

A few days after that eventful conversation, he suddenly got an idea with who the two of you could do it with. Damiano David, your fellow band member. It was perfect. Damiano and you kind of knew each other the longest and you were like best friends, but he knew very well that Damiano and you found each other attractive. But then again, can he blame you, really? He couldn't. And so he didn't. Instead, he found this situation as a perfect plan to finally get it on with Damiano and you.

And so, this is how you ended up here. Standing in the middle of your kitchen, leaning back again your kitchen counter as you listened to your boyfriend and your fellow band member's plan. Group sex. With the two of them. You were actually very found of that idea, but you were still kind of nervous. After all, you have never done that before. Ethan and Damiano sensed your hesitation and quickly started to reassure you.

"Don't worry, dove." Damiano whispered as he came closer to you and softly started to cerise your soft cheek. "If you don't want to do it we don't have to. But if you want to do it, you don't have to worry. Ethan and I will take good care of you."

"So what do you say, amore?" Ethan got behind you as he slowly, softly started to plant kisses on your neck, Damiano slowly moving your hair off of your shoulder so Ethan could get more access to your neck. You couldn't help but to let out a little whimper. It felt so good, you started to slowly, but surely, relax against the passionate hold of your fellow band mates.

"So what do you say, little love?" Ethan whispered in your ear. "Do you fancy the idea of having the two of us?" You felt yourself shiver as you slowly nodded your head against him as he continued to give you endless kisses and now marks on your neck.

"Words, princess." Damiano softly growled under his breath as his hand found itself suddenly wrapped around your neck. "Yes. I want you, both."

"To what?" Damiano continued to tease you endlessly and it was truly tortures for you. For all of you. But Damiano was a tease, both Ethan and you should have known that for a fact.

"To fuck me." You moaned loudly just wanting for this to start already.

"Good answer." Ethan said as literally picked you up and carried you to Ethan's and your bedroom. Damiano slowly trailing behind you.

Once you got inside, Ethan gently threw you on the middle of the bed as Damiano shut the door behind him. In a matter of seconds, your clothes where nowhere to be found. Not like any of you actually cared about that. As you laid there completely naked, Ethan and Damiano showed you with compliments and endless kisses and sucking and bitting.

You were enjoying yourself so much, you didn't know it could be that good. Suddenly, it seemed like non of you three could take this torture anymore. Damiano got up and walked to the end of the bed. Ethan was drowning you in a passionate kiss as you suddenly felt Damiano grab your legs and you were quickly, quite needy, pulled toward him. Ethan never stopped his attack on you as your legs were dramatically pulled apart.

"Now I want to hear you scream our names, little dove." Damiano ordered you as he suddenly dived into your folds.

He started to quite literally make out with your little wet cunt. It was so passionate and so hot that you could help yourself, but to practically scream. Ethan suddenly started to attack your soft breasts. It felt to good. One of your hands found itself tangled in Ethan's hair and your other hand was gripping the bed sheets. You felt like you were about to explode. It started to get so much that you quickly felt your lower stomach tighten.

"Ethan! Damiano! Ahh-" You moaned their names loudly. It felt as if, after they heard you moan like that, they didn't slow down one bit. They spead up. You thought that it would be impossible for them to go faster than they're already going, but it turned out that you were clearly wrong. "I'm gonna-! Ah!"

"We know. Let go, amore." Ethan encouraged you and so you did just that. You released all over Damiano's tongue as you tried to catch your breath. Ethan continued to kiss your chest as Damiano started to continued to suck you dry.

You started to moan again as you tried to push away from Damiano because of overstimulation, but Ethan kept you in place buy placing both of his strong hands on your hips. He pinned you to the bed so you couldn't escape Damiano's vicious tongue. Just as you were about to cum again, Damiano quickly pulled away and Ethan stopped his attack on you. Damiano stood up with a slight slap on your tigh, prising you about how good you were for Ethan and him, as you continued to paint from exhaustion and disappointment from a lost orgasm. Slowly, Ethan got behind you. He pressed your back against his chest as Damiano brought the two of you to the edge of the bed.

"Now breath, little one." Ethan continued to whispered in your ear, his breath hot you felt lime you could cum again from just that. It felt so hot. It felt so much. "Damiano is gonna have your pretty little tight pussy because poor baby doesn't get you like this very often." He told you and you softly moaned at the thought of Damiano completely destroying your little cunt, giving it to you because you were their little slut. Made for their pleasures. "And I will have this amazing ass. I will enter you right here, right now. From behind while our friend fucks you." Ethan told you and you felt a sharp slap on your rounded ass. You moaned from an impact as you felt him slowly shushing you as he gently rubbed the sore spot of your ass.

"Now relax, baby." Ethan said as he slowly started to trail his hand towards your neck. He wrapped your hand around your neck and you felt him tighten his hold on it as he said his next words.

"Damiano is going to completely destroy your pussy and I'm going to completely destroy your gorgeous ass. Were going to ruin you for everyone, but ourselves. And remember this, little dove." Ethan loudly commanded as he watched Damiano slowly line up to your entrance waiting for Ethan to give him a green light. "We won't stop until you are completely dripping with our cum and begging us to stop filling you up. We may not even stop then." Ethan whispered hotly in your ear as he pressed his thumb against your lips. You immediately started to suck on his thumb wishing it was his cock and Damiano moaned at the sight.

"Fucking slut." He chuckled as he pinched your left nipple watching you as you moaned some more.

"Now prepare yourself. This may hurt a little." And boy it did. The two of them were so big that your poor little pussy and ass barely took both of them inside. Damiano started to literally moan as he entered you.

"I can't believe that your so fucking tight." He cried a bit, completely at your mercy. He was so drunk off of the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, milking him dry. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you, princess, you won't be able to walk for days." He promised you as he started to slowly rub your clit to help you get used to the feeling of them.

Ethan was not so much different. You were practically melting against his hold. He kept his grip on your neck as he entered you. He started to breathe heavily as he felt like he could cum just from your tight ass struggling to keep him inside. He brought his hand down very fast and he felt you yelp from the impact before he started to rub your sore ass and kiss your exposed back. You felt like you were in the middle of life and death. It was just so good that you didn't want the pain to stop. Ever. Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks as Ethan kissed them away. Damiano and him barely kept it together, but they would never even dream of making you feel even slightest bit uncomfortable so they stood frozen on their spot. After a while you ordered them to move. You couldn't take it anymore.

They both started to rock their hips, slowly picking up the pace. You were moaning so loudly. Ethan's hand around your neck, the other one was placed around your ribs fucking into you at inhuman speed. Damiano's head was thrown back as one of his hands was holding your legs open as wide as they could go and his other hand was gripping at your hip. Ethan and Damiano could practically feel that they were touching each other inside of you. It was tortures for all three of you.

"Ugh! Damiano! Ethan!" You were moaning uncontrollably as you felt like the coil inside of you was about to snap. "I'm gonna-!" You didn't even get to finish you sentence as you came so hard on them both. They picked up their paice. You were moaning from overstimulation as they both came inside of you. After a while they both pulled out of you, watching your pussy tighten around nothing as both of your holes were leaking with their cum. They started to finger you softly as Damiano kept shushing you. You were moaning softly, exhausted and overstimulated. They both fucked their cum back inside of you. After they were satisfied with their job, both of them collapsed on the bed on each side of you. They covered you in kisses as you tried to catch your breath.

"Rest, amore. Were not done with you yet."

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART THREE: the six

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, drugs, minor injuries, blood, very suggestive content, implied sex (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I fear I may have screwed up the timeline, but oh well! Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

SEVENEIGHTNINE (1975-1976)

The recording of their first album tested The Six's strength ― not only as a band, but as friends. And Y/n, who had never really been a part of the band during its songwriting process, was quick to realize that there was friction between the same band members again and again. Most notably, Billy and Eddie.

KAREN: Eddie wanted more freedom with what he was playing, Billy thought that since he was the frontman that his word was law...it's the same old story you've heard before. They were in a constant dick measuring contest and neither one of them wanted to admit defeat.

WARREN: Billy was my friend. Eddie was my friend. But when you put them in a room together and told them to make a song, they were the most annoying motherfuckers you'd ever met.

One day after a particularly harrowing songwriting session, the band found themselves back at the house in Laurel Canyon. The place that was usually filled with talk and music was silent, the telltale sign that they had brought work home with them. but what else were they supposed to do? They worked together, they lived together. The lines between work and home were becoming dangerously thin.

Y/n couldn't stand the silence. At her house, there had always been something going on ― her mom would be talking on the phone, someone would come in injured and she'd fix them up. At the very least, she'd keep the television on so she could get a good nights' sleep. But that night it was dead silent. Sickeningly so.

So Y/n got out of bed and wandered into Eddie's room. She didn't acknowledge his presence as she walked in, stopped in place suddenly, and collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

Eddie watched the whole thing from his bed, his guitar in his hands. He expected that maybe she'd say something, start a conversation and whatnot, but she didn't. She just went on, staring at the ceiling as though she had all the time in the world and a perfect reason to be there on the floor.

So he spoke first. "Hi."

"Why can't you just get over things?"

EDDIE: Out of the blue, no hesitation. "Why can't you just get over things?" I knew what she was talking about. Me and Billy had been at each others' throats for weeks, ever since we started writing the damn album. She wanted to know why I couldn't just pack it all in and take the hits as they came.

"Um―"

"Because here's the thing: you guys both have so much pride. Soooooo much. So much it makes me want to slap you guys across the face and remind you that you're human, not gods. And, look, I get it. He walks all over you sometimes and that's not cool. But sometimes it feels like you're pushing back just to be contrarian. Like you don't really disagree with what he's saying, you just disagree with the fact that he's the one saying it. You get my drift?"

EDDIE: Like I said, she doesn't sugarcoat things. She'll tell you what you are and if you don't like it? Tough.

Eddie paused, leaning back. She was right; he knew that much. And maybe he did argue with things just to argue, but so what? They weren't The Dunne Brothers anymore, they were The Six. Implied equal partnership. And still...

"He's thinks it's his band, Y/n."

"Then talk to him about it."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Y/n sat up, a crease formed between her brows.

He wasn't quite expecting that question. But, after a bit of stumbling, he came to what he thought was a reasonable answer: "Because he doesn't listen."

Y/n just looked at him like that was the dumbest thing he had ever said. "Well then make him listen."

"Yeah, alright. and how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

She didn't answer immediately, thinking. Eddie thought for a moment that he might have won.

EDDIE: There wasn't really a way to win an argument with her. Not really.

After a moment she turned to him. "A war isn't just two guys screaming at each other, Ed. They need soldiers, armies. Let me be your army."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like watching you get pushed around. It's kind of...sad."

"Thanks."

"You asked."

They lapsed into silence again. Y/n laid back down on the floor, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. When she spoke again, it was so quiet, Eddie wasn't sure at first if she was talking to him or to herself. "I just...I'm on your side, okay? So don't make it any harder to be."

EDDIE: I never quite got that, you know? "I'm on your side." I had no idea why she'd be on my side. Billy was the frontman, Billy was the guy you looked up to. And there she was, trying to help me out without me even asking. I guess I thought, am I really that pathetic? [Laughs] I probably don't want to know the answer to that. I don't know why she was on my side, I really don't. But it was good to know. Made me feel like, aside from all the melodrama that came with rock n' roll, I had something to hold on to.

By the time SevenEightNine was done, the CEO of Runner Records, Rich Palentino, was not impressed. In fact, in his opinion, the entire collection of songs they had collectively poured their hearts and souls into, did not have a number one single among it. Teddy Price decided to take things into his own hands, and that's when Daisy Jones got involved.

The plan was to take 'Honeycomb' ― a song Billy had written about the life he had promised Camila ― and add a female vocal onto it, a sort of call and response duet.

Needless to say, Billy was not happy about the arrangement.

GRAHAM: He had just gotten back from rehab and was finally making things right with his wife and his daughter, and they wanted to bring a new chick in to "fix" his song. I can see why he was upset. I just think that he could've handled it better.

EDDIE: He threw a fit. So, naturally, everybody tried to do things to appease him. Graham had the idea that Karen could sing the female part.

KAREN: Like I said, I can back up a chorus, but I can't hold my own.

EDDIE: Y/n was thrown into the mix.

KAREN: Eddie put "Y/n" and "solo" in the same sentence and she looked like she was going to vomit. We moved on.

GRAHAM: Eventually Billy got the gist that Daisy was what we needed. At least, Teddy thought so. And Billy would take Teddy's word over his own any day of the week.

BILLY: I thought, "Fine. If this Daisy girl wants to try it, we'll let her try it."

Daisy was brought into the studio within the next couple of days, marking the first time she ever officially worked with The Six. She was generally well received by all its members (except maybe Billy) and found a fast friend in Y/n.

Firstly, they were the closest in age, and, when you're thrown into a new environment surrounded by strangers, that tends to be what you gravitate towards. That, and Y/n had the special ability of getting the boys to shut up long enough to let her do her thing. That was especially important.

DAISY: The first time I got into that studio to record, the rest of the band crowded at the window, staring at me like I was an elephant in a zoo. It was unsettling. I was probably on the verge of yelling to them to give me some room to breathe when I saw Y/n and Karen dragging them out by their collars, kicking them out of the room until they were the only ones left. That meant a lot.

Despite Billy's every attempt to complain, Honeycomb was released featuring Daisy Jones. Billy was stubbornly pessimistic about the whole thing, of course. And by the time the recording and mixing of 'Honeycomb' was done, it was completely different from the song Billy had first pitched. He felt that his vision had been trod upon in a most disrespectful manner, so much so that, when it was first played, start to finish, for the entire band, the walked out the second the record stopped.

They all watched him go with confusion ― the song was good. It was great, even, but Billy hated it so much that he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as it. And this was before Camila started coming to recording sessions, so no one really wanted to follow him out. Especially not Eddie.

So after the door slammed, they all spent a tense few seconds looking around, sharing confused and annoyed looks over Billy's outburst, and when it became clear that no one was going to do a damn thing about it, Y/n sighed and got up. "Looks like I have to do everything around here, huh?"

She found Billy outside, leaning on the hood of his car, staring at the slowly heating pavement in the California sun. He had his hands crossed over his chest, not unlike a kid who had just gotten his toy taken from him. He didn't look up when Y/n stepped outside, but he spoke the moment she was within earshot: "We're not releasing it."

The reply that came back was a sharp, loud laugh from Y/n. "Fuck you, we're not releasing it. It's a good song. Probably the best one we've ever made."

"You don't get it," Billy shook his head, "that's my song that she's singing. Mine. The one that I wrote about my wife."

"It's not about your wife, Billy," Y/n said. "It's an apology to your wife. You asked us all to make it and we said yes, so don't go acting like you're the goddamn puppet master pulling all the strings. You asked us to make the song, and we said yes. And it's our band. Your song, our band. Sometimes we have to make decisions that don't please your every fucking whim because it's our band and we want to take it as far as we can. And this song, Billy? This is how we do that."

He said nothing, continuing to stare at the ground.

"We're releasing it as soon as we can, and the world is gonna lose its fucking mind. At least you can go home and tell your wife that everyone loves her song."

Billy looked up then, some of his scowl melted away. Y/n grabbed him by the wrist, uncrossing his arms and pulling him back towards the studio. "Now the least you can do is go be civil to your bandmates and to the girl who just made us a number one single."

Eventually she succeeded in dragging him back into the recording booth, to the surprise of everyone already there.

"He threw a fit; I told him to shut up and get over himself. So, when can we release it?" Y/n asked, looking to Teddy.

BILLY: Just like that, she told me to get my act together and got me back in that studio. It was a little harsher than it had to be, but it worked. She had perfected the art of making someone realize how much of an asshole they were being at that point. I think she used it most on me. Occasionally Warren. If it weren't for her, I don't know if I would've gotten back in that studio. Because I don't know if anyone else would've walked out to get me.

Just as Y/n had predicted, 'Honeycomb' quickly sailed to the top of the charts. It generated national attention, with the whole world seeming to suddenly ask the question, Who the hell is The Six?

Daisy Jones had singlehandedly brought them to the top, and it pissed Billy Dunne off to no end.

The rest of the band, however, was enjoying their newfound celebrity. Their album, SevenEightNine, came out soon after, putting them on the road for their first tour ever. Daisy was set to be their opening act ― which, again, did not exactly please Billy. But she was a magnet. Where Daisy went, people seemed to follow.

As the days counted down before they left, they did what they knew best: partying. Y/n, in particular, found herself spending increasingly more and more time with Daisy.

DAISY: Not everyone was on board with me having a hand in the band's success, I knew that. But I had a place at the Marmont that had a pool. And back then, that was all it took to be okay in Y/n's book.

―

[The following is a transcription from an interview with Rolling Stone. On June 2, 1975, Jonah Berg sat down with Y/n L/n to discuss the band's recent success and life on the road.]

JONAH: Where do you think you'd be right now? If you weren't in a band, I mean?

Y/N: [Pauses. Smiles] Somewhere in the ocean.

JONAH: No thoughts as to a career?

Y/N: You didn't ask about a career. You asked what I'd be doing right now. And that's it ― I'd be in the ocean. And I'd be in whatever career got me there.

[This marks the end of the transcript.]

―

WARREN: The girl is a fucking fish.

DAISY: She'd go under for as long as she could, come up for a single breath, and go back under again. Over and over and over. You can't get a single word in that girl's ears when she's in the water.

KAREN: Y/n had a habit of getting...obsessed. With people, with music, whatever it was that caught her interest and held it. And Daisy...[pauses] Daisy did that.

EDDIE: I'm not so sure it was a great thing that Daisy and Y/n became friends when they did.

In Laurel Canyon, Y/n was often the first to come home. In fact, whenever another band member stumbled in, they could most likely count on the fact that if they shouted, "Y/n, I'm home!" they'd hear her yell "Good. Go to sleep!" in response. But that night, it was not the case.

After all the band members had returned for the night, Y/n was still at the Marmont with Daisy. Her hair and clothes were still drying from when she had jumped in the pool an hour previous ― well, she either jumped or she was pushed. She couldn't quite remember now.

Dozens of people had crowded around the pool, drinking and doing whatever drugs came their way. More than once, Daisy and Y/n would stop their stroll to knock back some pills passed their way or do a line off a pool table. Y/n started to wonder what time she had to get home when she noticed Oh, the sun is coming up. Has the sun always been that purple?

"Daisy, what time is it?" she asked, looking to her left. But Daisy had disappeared. There was a splash, and suddenly Daisy was floating in the pool with her nicest Caftan dress billowing around her. She looked like some kind of mystical sea nymph, or so Y/n thought.

"DJ!" Y/n yelled at her, catching her attention. "I need to go home."

Daisy, of course, wouldn't hear of it. Parties didn't end until she thought they were over. "No, no come on! Just stay a little longer!"

"I can't, I...we have rehearsal in the morning."

Daisy sighed, splashing somewhat disappointedly. "Mkay. Fine," she sighed, swimming over to the edge, "can you at least help me out?"

She held a hand out, which Y/n took. Stupid decision, of course. Daisy just pulled her into the pool, causing an eruption of cheers around them.

As she hit the water, Y/n briefly thought that she had some reason to be upset with Daisy, but she couldn't quite remember why. Within a moment, all discomfort had disappeared, completely forgotten, and she was perfectly ready to stay as long as Daisy wanted.

That was, until she came up for air and saw Billy standing there at the edge of the pool.

For a moment, Y/n just stared up at him blankly. Then, she splashed water on him. He looked at her in confusion and she explained, "I had to make sure you were really there and I wasn't just making you up."

"Y/n, it's time to go." he said.

"Oooookay," she said slowly. "I'll get a taxi in a little bit."

"No, this isn't some kind of courtesy call. It's time to go now."

Y/n huffed in response, swimming over to the side. She was too tired (or doped up) to argue. Really, Billy's presence reminded her that she had a house with her own bed. And she realized right then how much she really, really wanted to be in bed.

"Who told you I was here?" she said as she attempted to hoist herself out of the pool.

"Eddie did," Billy replied, helping her out. "Something about you not knocking."

"That son of a bitch," she muttered. "Where is he?"

"Back at the house. Asleep."

"I want Eddie. Get him here."

"You'll see him in the morning."

Y/n, not satisfied with that answer, pushed Billy away, anger curling her hands into fists. "I don't need you to tell me what to do, Billy. I'm a fucking adult. I know when I've reach my limits."

Billy looked at her. Mascara and eyeliner had traced gray lines down her face. Her hair and clothes were soaking wet, clinging to her, dripping onto the pavement. For a second, the hardened look on her face reminded Billy of the day she wandered into their garage and stole the drum sticks straight from Chuck's hands. She didn't look much older now than she did then.

"Just get in the goddamn car."

"No."

"Get in the car."

"No!"

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

She looked down suddenly and noticed a deep cut on her right hand. She frowned at it, but didn't seem that surprised at its existence. "That was there when I got here."

Billy more or less forced her into the passenger seat of the car, where she hung her hand out of the window, letting the blood drip onto the pavement rather than onto the seats.

In the less than ten minute drive home, Y/n talked until she was laughing hysterically at her own jokes, stuck her head out the window and howled at the moon, and finally sat in silence long enough that she started to cry.

Eddie woke up that night to a book hitting him in the face. He jolted awake, looking around wildly. And then, in the dead silence of his room, Y/n's voice came from the doorway. "Snitch."

She shut the door after that, and he heard her stumbling footfalls down the hallway.

And while that should've been the last time Y/n partied with Daisy, it wasn't. She went the next night, and the night after that. The knocks on Eddie's wall became less and less frequent until they stopped all together.

Daisy became her favorite pastime.

"You're in love with Eddie, right?" Daisy asked. They were both lying on the ground outside at the Marmont, letting their heads hang over the pool so that only their hair soaked in the water.

At her question, Y/n shot up, her wet hair drenching her back with cold water instantly. "What?"

"Oh, sorry," Daisy said, still hanging there. "I just thought...you know..."

Y/n did not, in fact, know. She turned to Daisy, a crease formed between her brows. "Why would you think that?"

Daisy sat up then, her impossibly long hair acting like a weight that she had to struggle against to sit up. "You're always lookin' at him when you're rehearsing. At a certain point it was like...I could count on the fact that when I walked into the studio, you'd be right next to him."

As Daisy spoke, Y/n felt herself frowning deeper and deeper. Eddie...Eddie was her best friend. That was for sure. He was the one she went to when she wanted to talk to someone.

Three thoughts emerged as Daisy talked.

One: I am not in love with Eddie Roundtree.

Two: I'm in love with Eddie Roundtee.

Three: It's so obvious it's sad.

Daisy kept talking, oblivious to her sudden revelation. "I get it, you know? If you really like him, you should just go for it. He's a nice guy, and he looks at you as much as you look at him."

Y/n excused herself then, claiming she felt sick. Well, that was mostly true ― she did feel sick. But not the type of sick that drinking generally made her. The kind of sick that came from thinking too hard, too quickly.

But instead of coming back, she left the Marmont, walking home with bare feet. She was still dripping with pool water, freezing her ass off the whole way home, but she was too deep in her own head to really realize it.

She made it back just as the sun was starting to come up, falling asleep on the couch rather than in her room. She slept fitfully, waking up every half hour or so thinking she had said something in her sleep that she couldn't take back.

The next night, she didn't go back to Daisy's. In fact, when Eddie heard Y/n's bedroom door shut before midnight, he frowned, wondering momentarily if she had just imagined it. Then, to test the theory, he knocked. It was the tune to the newest song by the Kinks. He didn't think too long about the song, really, he just wanted a response.

For a moment, none came. He waited patiently, silently, for any response. There was none.

Sighing, he settled back down on his bed, deciding that that was the last time he'd knock. There was no point in knocking to no response.

But a few moments later, the response came ― this time at his bedroom door.

He paused, sitting up, part of him wondering if he'd completely imagined it. Either way, he had to check. He got up, leaving his bass on the bed, heading to the door. He opened it and Y/n stood in the doorway, hair still wet from a shower.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi."

And then, before he had the chance to say anything else, she stood on her toes and kissed him. He was so taken by surprise that he practically froze as he kissed her back, only to be unfrozen by her pushing him further into the room and kicking the door shut behind them.

EDDIE:  [Pauses. Takes a deep breath] Oh, wow. Um. Yeah, sure. Yes. I did…I did love Camila. But, everyone loved Camila, you know? Maybe it was…at one point I thought maybe…[pauses] it’s not important. The love I had for Camila…it was painful. It was so much stuff that had nowhere to go, so it just sat. Weighed me down. And Y/n was the first person who, I don’t know, made it lighter.

The next morning when Y/n woke up, she was clearheaded for what felt like the first time in years. The sunlight didn't make her head pound, she didn't feel nauseated, and she didn't have to check herself to see if she'd acquired any news injuries from the night before.

When she rolled over, Eddie was there, still asleep. Her lips parted slightly at the sudden reminder that the previous night hadn't been a dream. And the reminder of Eddie's presence next to her reminded her that there were, in fact, several other people in the house.

She sat up and saw Eddie's shirt at the edge of the bed. She reached for it, leaning over and tapping Eddie on the shoulder. "Hey," she said. He stirred a bit. She held up the shirt. "Can I borrow this?"

"'Course." he responded sleepily. "You leaving?"

"Oh, don't worry. I won't be far. Just down the hall" she said with a smile. He laughed slightly at that, and she gave him a quick kiss on the side of his lips. She tried to get up then, but Eddie caught her wrist, pulling her back down to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pressing his lips to hers. She found herself smiling as he kissed her, a chill running down her spine.

Eventually he let her go and she slipped his shirt over her head. She went for the door, pausing before opening it. "We're going to talk about this later, by the way."

Eddie frowned. "What's there to talk about?"

She paused, thinking. "Maybe talk is the wrong word for it."

She gave him a sly smile, causing him to roll his eyes and bury his head in his pillow. She laughed quietly, opening the door as quietly as she could and shutting it behind her. And as she went to walk into the hallways, she saw Warren standing there, a beer can in one hand.

WARREN: She looked at me with this doe in headlights look, and I just knew she was going to ask, so I told her before she had the chance.

"We have thin walls."

WARREN: Man, the look on her face right then. [Laughs] Priceless. I was so drunk the night before, I didn’t hear shit, but one look at her—the messy hair, the smudged makeup—you just knew. I was happy for ‘em. For once it felt like I wasn’t waiting for the shoe to drop, you know? It just…dropped. I was happy for them.

Y/n said nothing to him, simply turning and walking away, causing Warren to chuckle to himself.

Billy and Camila moved out of the house in Laurel Canyon soon thereafter, wanting to have a home to call their own. That left the more, well, irresponsible band members to themselves.

One day, Warren returned to the house to find Graham, Karen, Eddie, and Y/n on the back porch, slumped in chairs, staring at the air in front of them like they were waiting for something.

"What are you guys on and can I have some?"

WARREN: It was mescaline, because of course it was.

"How long does it take to kick in?" Warren asked.

Karen shrugged. "Depends on the person."

A few seconds later, Warren suddenly stood up, stumbling slightly. "Whoa..."

Y/n giggled, then frowned. She moved her head back and forth, side to side, like she was weighing it. "Guys, my head is getting really heavy. Too heavy. How much should my brain weigh? Can brains gain weight? Do I have an overweight brain and I didn't notice it until now?"

"If you had an overweight brain, you wouldn't have failed math." Warren said. "Now, I-I feel on a molecular level, you know, like me and the canyon, we are..." he trailed off, then clapped, "Ha! No, we're the same, man."

Karen laughed. "Warren and Y/n are feeling it, clearly."

Graham laughed, and then suddenly he went slack, eyes wide. "Oh shit..." he put his hand over his stomach, "I can't feel my heart."

As Karen went to make sure his heart was actually beating (which, of course, it was ― he was just looking in the wrong place for it), Y/n turned her attention to Eddie. He was staring at his hands like it was the first time he was seeing them. She looked at her own, waving them in the air like she was trying not to hurt the air.

Y/n and Eddie had kept their, well, for lack of a better word, tryst, from the rest of the band members. Except, of course, Warren who had found out completely by mistake. As Y/n inspected her hands, she let one fall to the side, landing on Eddie's thigh.

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. She bit her lip to hide a smile.

"No, Graham, it's there."

"Karen, I can't feel my heart. It's gone, man."

Y/n slid her hand further up his thigh, trying her best not to giggle at the way he tried to keep his cool under her touch.

"Can-Can we call a doctor or something?"

"Graham. Move your hand up."

Graham frowned, looking down. Then moved his hands to the correct place and, upon feeling his heart beating steadily underneath his palms, sighed in relief. "Oh. Thanks."

Eddie suddenly stood up, startling all of them. Without a word, he took Y/n by the hand, pulling her back inside. Y/n giggled then, already going to unbutton her shirt.

Karen and Graham watched them go in confusion. "What the hell is up with them?" Graham asked as the door shut behind them.

Warren just raised his half empty beer can in their direction. "L'Chaim," the declared, then drank it all in one sip.

Thanks to Honeycomb, The Six had been put on the map. They were touring for their first album with Daisy Jones as their opening act. It was on that tour that they all got their first taste of real fame of screaming crowds and fanatic fans.

Towards the end of the tour, the decision was made that Daisy would join the band, and they would soon become known as Daisy Jones & The Six. After the tour, they were on their way to creating their first album with Daisy on the team.

EDDIE: Things were perfect. Well, I didn’t think they were perfect at the time. I still wasn’t getting along with Billy, I didn’t feel like I had any creative control, I basically felt like a second-class citizen even though I had been there from the beginning. But I had Y/n, and the band was successful. If I had been able to put down my pride and look at my life from a couple steps back, I probably would have thought, damn…this ain’t bad.           I never really guessed how bad things would go downhill after that.

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[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB] Bojan Cvjetićanin on Oradio (13.11.2024).

Transcript and translation by IG marija_rocen, review by @moonlvster, proofread by X klámstrakur, subtitles by IG marija_rocen.

Full video and transcript below the cut 👇

Host: One of the most popular young bands in our region, the Slovenian shagadelic rock 'n' roll attraction Joker Out, is coming to Novi Sad and Belgrade as part of their regional tour to promote their new album, 'Souvenir Pop', which is being released in a few days, that is, on the 15th of November. They will greet their fans in Novi Sad on the 26th of November, and, the next day, on the 27th, they will perform in Belgrade at Dom omladine. Before these concerts, we spoke with the band's frontman, Bojan Cvjetićanin.

And with me on the phone is Bojan, the frontman of the band Joker Out. Joker Out, as part of the regional tour with which they are promoting their third album, will perform on the 26th of November in Novi Sad at Fabrika as well. You just announced this new album with the music video for the song 'Bluza'. So tell me, who was better at acting: you or the members of the band Buč Kesidi? And actually, what was your experience like, shooting that video?

Bojan: Well, I have to say that, after watching the video, Buč Kesidi did better. When we were thinking about casting for the video, we immediately came up with the idea of Zoran and Luka. Zoki was born to smash bottles over people's heads, and Luka was born to be a waiter, so... I’d say they did better. And as for the experience, we had a great time. We were shooting late into the night, late hours, but... The fact that we were with the Buč guys, that we were in Ljubljana, that they actually came to put their minds to rest, it was so much fun, it was great.

I would also agree that you were great in your roles as well, even though the other guys played some instruments they normally don't, and you also did a great job.

Thank you.

And the album 'Souvenir Pop' is coming out in the 15th of November. Tell me, what is actually hidden behind the title 'Souvenir Pop', and what can we find on the album itself?

That album actually seems like some- like all the memories we compiled in the year and a half since our Eurovision journey started, let's say. A lot of things have changed in our lives, a lot of new experiences, new feelings, emotions happened there and we tried to somehow transfer all those emotions into songs. And in the end we saw that they all seem like some souvenirs that we actually brought home from all those journeys. So the album is quite full of different music, there is no common thread. It’s versatile, both in terms of languages and sound-wise. So it will be an interesting album.

Somehow, throughout your work, this sound of yours also changed. Right now you're describing it as shagadelic rock, so tell me, what exactly is shagadelic rock for you? How would you actually describe that sound of yours right now, even though, as you said yourself, it's a mix of everything?

Yeah, well, the best thing is that we invented term shagadelic rock 'n' roll ourselves, so we can literally do whatever we want with it, and no matter which direction we take, it's still shagadelic rock 'n' roll. So I don't know. Honestly, shagadelic rock 'n' roll is more about the energy which we transfer to the music. It's the honesty, in fact, that we’ve never lied in our music, not about who we are or what we are, we’ve always done what we like and what we enjoy, and then transferred that energy to the audience. I believe the audience feels good in their own skin at our concerts, and that’s the most important thing for us.

Tell me, what are some of the biggest challenges you've faced as a band so far?

The biggest challenges, I don't know, I think... The fact is that we are a band which isn’t signed to any label, especially not a big label, so we’re more or less our own managers. Of course, we have a loyal team we work with, but we’re the main management. So, as far as the coordination of musical and business life is concerned, there are a lot of difficult moments where we have to make important decisions and it often seems that everything is on our backs, but that's what we decided and for now I think we're doing well.

Yes, and as for the music and creativity, what does that process look like? Are you all involved, who writes the lyrics, who writes the music?

The lyrics and vocal melodies are mine. As for arranging, we do it all more or less together, either in the rehearsal space or later in the studio. Our producer Žarko Pak also helps us a lot, and he has been a crucial part of our team and our sound since the very beginning. So… Creating music is a long and sometimes exhausting process for us.

I believe it is. At the end, I’ll ask you this on behalf of your listeners. What's the best place for them to be positioned so that they might be in closer contact to you?

Like at a concert, right?

Yes, yes.

Honestly, I think at concerts I like standing where the mixing desk is, because I think that's where the best sound is, actually, it is the best sound. And as for some contact with us, I’d say the first 8 rows maybe.

Okay, so the listeners have heard, and we're going to give away some tickets. You can find out all about it on our Instagram profile. Thank you very much, Bojan, say hello to the other guys, and see you on the 26th at Fabrika.

Great, thank you very much, see you on the 26th!

Bye!

Bye!