#it is working? is the coping mechanism working?

[ichaserabbits]

Unironically I feel like I need to send this to my doctor so they stop trying to recommend CBT to me for "dealing with not being able to be productive due to chronic pain." Bruh I'm not depressed and I don't have this issue? Like I worked this shit out years ago already? I was raised by atheist punks who worked in nightclubs in the 80s I don't have guilt about labor. I am only here because the pain is inhibiting my ability to go do shit outside.

it's good that we're saying "i don't feel guilty about pleasure im not Catholic" but we also need to start saying "i don't feel self-righteous about being overworked I'm not Puritan"

[babeyun]

bubblegum ☆ y.jw [m]

synopsis: from raspberry sour belts to strawberry crème filled chocolates, you know jungwon like the back of your hand...when it comes to candy. he's far deeper than meets the eye. genre: acquaintances to lovers au. candyshop au, college au. fluff, smidge of angst, suggestive themes. pairing: college student!yang jungwon x fem!candy shop attendant!reader word count: 11.9k (sorry...) rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, mentions of food, stress and bad coping mechanisms. jungwon has a sweet tooth. reader and jungwon are both subtly flirtatious in their own ways. reader wears glasses but hates them. there is NO smut in this, just kissing and heavy petting, suggestive themes. pet names (pretty, pretty girl, baby, etc.) what to listen to: bubblegum - newjeans ; crush - seventeen ; trivia 承: love - bts ; blossom - enhypen. author's note: [star dividers by @/saradika here on tumblr!] ah! i came up with this concept so quickly it made my head spin, but i really hope everyone likes it? this is super late, it is past six in the morning as i post this but either way...happiest birthday to my absolute baby, my wonsito. i love u!

SATURDAY, 7:39PM.

"We're out of raspberry sour belts." Jungwon groans inwardly as he hears your voice call through the store, your hands busy with the restock cart as you push past the candy carousels. His hand shoves the tongs back into their slot, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He bites down on his gum, trying not to grind his teeth as he chews it carefully. "You're sure?" He asks meekly, resting his head against the carousel display that showed off chocolate bunnies made for the Valentine's Day sale. You glance up from your cart, holding a bag of sour cherry balls as you nod. He can see your lips moving but he can't hear what you're saying, his eyes too focused on the glimmer of your lipgloss in the low light of the shop.

"Might have some in the back, but it'll take me a minute to check. Feel free to continue perusing, we have those strawberry crème melts you like on Carousel G." The gesture you make with the scoop you've picked up from the candy container makes him snap back to reality, and he nods like he was listening. He wanders off, before hearing you snicker quietly.

"G, Jungwon. As in Girlfriend, not that you'd know anything about that." You call, and he ducks out of sight embarrassedly. 

Jungwon had long been a customer of your father's candy shop. He met you about six years ago, when your father finally allowed you to start working there part-time to save some pocket money for school. The two of you wound up going to the same university a few miles away, and you kept working at the shop – and Jungwon kept coming back.

He had become quite the regular – often finishing the raspberry sour belts, the strawberry crème melts, and your personal favorites: the chocolate almonds. He recalls you scowling when you'd find yourself yearning for a crunchy, chocolatey delight – only to arrive at the shop for your shift and seeing Jungwon, eyes heavy with stress, filling his candy bag with the last of them.  You've learned to settle for the strawberry yoghurt almonds, but they just don't hit the same. (And Jungwon feels guilty, so he leaves the almonds alone every once in a while. He enjoys seeing you smile lightly when you skirt past them and click the container closed to save them for yourself.)

You make smalltalk with Jungwon, asking about his classes and his friends. It's always the same – his classes are okay, his friends are okay, he is okay. He asks you the same questions – your classes are fine, your friends are sparse and you're alright. You're both juniors, you're both maxed out with your schedules and you're both stressed – but it's like none of that translates into your conversations. Almost as if the weight of it all is lifted when you speak to each other, even if it's the bare minimum.

That's about as far as your conversations go anyway, unless you're directing him around the shop as if he'd never been there before. He can't help but let you be his human GPS though, not when he acts like he hadn't been there in years just to hear your voice. As if everything hasn't been in the same spot since your father first opened the shop.

"Uhm, do you guys still have those salted caramel taffies? My friend just asked me for some." He pipes up quietly, and your eyes flicker up to him with a furrow in your brows.

"I think so? We did move those from their old carousel, they should be on the shelf wall now. Above the yoghurt pretzels but below the chocolate raisins. Odd placing, but I don't question my dad." You shrug, your hands now busy with caramel apple suckers and pouring them into the clear bin. He nods, mostly to himself as he skirts to the back, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. He takes it out, seeing two messages from the same friend that owes him over eighty bucks in saltwater taffy.

NEW! Msg From: Jake [7:43PM] is the cute girl there [7:43PM] you should ask if she's single

He scoffs, shoving his phone back into his pocket and opening the case. He listens to you rustle around, the satisfying sound of candy pouring nothing in comparison to the soft tone of your voice. Sometimes you spoke a lot more, particularly on days where you weren't stuck restocking – or filling in for your coworker, Jaehee…who loved to call out around the holidays.

He hears you walking away, and feels alone as the sound of candy stops. He likes your presence, he may even have a bit of a crush on you.

Okay. He has a big crush on you. He's had a crush on you for three fucking years, and not once has he been able to make a move.

"So stupid." He hears you mumbling to yourself, the furrow in your brows not leaving as he looks over his shoulder at you, seeing your phone in your hand as you typed furiously. He lets his brows raise as he shuts the taffy container, making his way to you and clearing his throat. He stays a few feet away as you look up at him, your eyes tired and annoyed but your voice still sweet.

"Ready?" "Yep. Sorry about…whatever is frustrating you." He winces as he gestures at your phone, and you just scoff out a laugh.

"Not your fault, Jungwon. Jaehee'll be the death of me, you know." You shake your head, shoving your phone in your pocket before turning on your heel and leading the way to the register. Your father insisted on remaining old-school – so much so, that the calculator you used to add up the prices had long lost the numbers off the keys.

"On the scale, please." You tapped it, and Jungwon placed his bag in the metal bowl and reached into his pocket for his wallet. You punched the keys in, turning the calculator to him. Eight dollars, ninety-two cents. "Sounds reasonable." He shrugs, making you smirk. You took the bag off the scale, tying it closed with your favorite baby blue ribbon. Jungwon had often watched you let children choose what color they wanted to tie their bag shut, but you never let him choose. He smiled inwardly at the information that fed his subtle delusion, before sliding a wad of cash into your awaiting hand. "Keep the change." He murmured, taking the bag off the counter when you raised a brow at him, shaking your head. "You're forgetting something." His brow furrowed, and he felt around his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys. He felt his head, sunglasses. "What?" "Say thank you, Jungwon." You smiled, pulling a box of raspberry sour belts out from under the register. The sticker that usually reads the best by date had a new label typed beneath today's date.

MADE FOR: YJW.

His eyes widened, and they flickered up to you as you slid the box across the counter to him. "I thought you said–" "Still haven't heard you say thank you, Jungwon." He scoffed, his ears feeling hot as he took the box between lithe fingers. He cleared his throat, "How mu–" "Say thank you." You repeated, not looking at him as you popped the register open, smoothing the bills he'd given you into their warranted spaces. He sighed, tongue toying with the silver ring through his lip. Your eyes were now pointed, arms crossed on your chest as you waited for him to speak.

"Thank you, Y/N." "You're welcome, Jungwon." This…this was the confusing part of your interactions.

You were curt, short and sweet. Your smile was extended to every customer that crossed the threshold of the shop, your eyes shimmered with delight when someone sampled a recommendation of yours and fell in love with it. You laughed, giggled, chortled with those who cracked jokes, and you empathized with those who came in with broken hearts, in need of a little treat to lift their spirits.

But this? This was reserved for him. It was an unspoken thing you did – never charging him for whatever it may have been that you hid away for him. Whether it was raspberry sour belts, strawberry crème melts…even the occasional caramel apple sucker, he never paid for it and he wasn't sure if it was you being nice or you flirting with him.

It was even worse when you'd touch him softly, casually. Like you had zero idea the effect you had on him. Like the ghosting touch of your palm on his shoulder as you guided him through the shop, or when he said something that made you laugh.

Well…you didn't but that's not the point here.

"Have a good night." You murmured, a soft smile on your glossed lips snapping him out of his trance once more. He cleared his throat roughly, mumbling a you too before skirting out of the shop. The street was damp with rain, and he huffed as he walked towards his car, your lips cemented in his mind.

Does your lipgloss have a flavor? Is it something he'd like? 

Would you let him kiss you?

He groans to himself, yanking his car door open before looking up and seeing you flicking the sign to say CLOSED. Your eyes wander, and they land on him – you smile, waving gently before turning on your heel and walking away from the large windows.

God, he's so fucked.

TUESDAY, 7:40PM.

"We're about to close." You're restocking again when he slips into the shop, your hands covered in blue powder from what he assumes are blue raspberry sour straws that came apart. You look frustrated, so he quietly takes his bag from the front of the shop when you look up, about to reiterate that the shop is going to close.

He sees your eyes change, your shoulders sagging as you give him a pitiful smile.

"Hey, Jungwon. Sorry about the mess. Feel free, but be quick please." You roll your eyes, your glasses sitting atop your head as you squint. He shakes his head, reaching for your glasses and pulling them gently off your head. He holds them up to you, making you grimace at the blue powder from the candy coating the lenses. "Great. Now I'm covered in blue raspberry bullshit and I can't see. This is terrific." You mutter, looking around for the wet wipes you usually kept on your restock cart. Jungwon absentmindedly rubbed the lens of your glasses with his sweater sleeve, the blue powder seeping into his black hoodie. He held them up to the light, before switching sleeves and wiping them again.

You looked back up, wipes in hand to see him hold up your cleaned glasses. You squinted at him, his hands gingerly sliding your glasses onto your face and walking away before you could see the powder staining his sleeves. He rolls the cuffs up, hiding it from view as he beelines for Carousel G. 

The display is now stocked with a new flavor of bubblegum – raspberry swirl. He glances at it before looking over at you, watching you grimace as you carefully pour chocolate nonpareils into Carousel A. He clears his throat, garnering your attention.

"New?" He murmurs, and you blink at him, before putting the candy down and making your way over to him. You slide your hands in your apron pockets, the remaining blue powder looking like an avant garde choice across the white vinyl.

"You okay, Jungwon?" You whispered, his eyes flickering to you before he hummed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked, twirling the magenta bubblegum in his fingers. You step in front of him, taking the bubblegum from his hand and unwrapping it for him. You hold the cellophane taut, prompting him to take the bubblegum from it. He does, his lip jutted out slightly in a pout as he shoves it into his cheek.

"Midterms, maybe? I know your classes are stressful." Your voice is laced with empathy, and he picks at his nails before sighing. Looking up, he sees your laptop and a bunch of your textbooks sprawled across the front counter. "Your classes are stressful too, though. Aren't they?" He searches your face, and you push your glasses up slightly, before running a hand through your hair with a sigh. You shrug your shoulders, as if to say could be worse.

"I'm a little…overwhelmed." He mumbles, fumbling with the cellophane bag in his hands. You nod, plucking a piece of the raspberry bubblegum off the display and unwrapping it quickly, shoving it into your mouth as you sigh.

"I'm sorry. I'd offer candy but it wouldn't be much, would it?" You tilt your head, a soft smile laced on your face as he lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"It does more than you think, actually. Helps keep me grounded, I don't know. I tend to snack when I study, that's why you see me here so often." He rolls his eyes, "I'm trying to break the habit." "Oh, but then I wouldn't see you. That'd be a shame." You sound almost sad as you eye him, his cheeks heating under your gaze. You're about to speak again when you hear the doorbell chime, and you turn immediately to greet the person. Jungwon takes the moment to slink away, hiding himself away towards the back as the person announces they need to place a custom order for Valentine's Day.

Raspberry sour belts…strawberry crème melts…two pieces of pear taffy.

He doesn't pack his bag with much this time around, ignoring the urge to fill it the rest of the way with cherry jelly beans. He peers over Carousel M to see if you're still busy, and sees your smile wide as you carefully fill out the paper on the clipboard for the customer. He hears flavors being rattled off, and you write just as fast as they're being said.

He decides to circle back to the jelly beans, grabbing an ounce cup to fill and duck into his bag. You're telling the customer his total by the time Jungwon is done, and you've exchanged money and goodbyes when Jungwon inches back up towards the front. You give him a quick smile before sneaking over to the door and flipping the sign, waving sorely at a few customers who wanted in. They just give you a thumbs up. "Exciting stuff." Your voice is pinched with a bit of sarcasm as you climb back up behind the counter and gesture to the order, full of fruity flavors and chewy treats. He half-smiles, nodding solemnly before sliding his bag onto the scale as you grab the calculator. You flip to him.

Six dollars and ten cents. You cut the same baby blue ribbon for him as he pulls his wallet out, and he mumbles the same thing about keeping the change as he grabs for his bag. You stop him, holding the bag just out of reach as you frown.

"I know we don't have the same major or have the same classes, but do you think you'd need a study buddy?" Your eyes are serious, and Jungwon feels inclined to say no. He knows he wouldn't get any work done, not when your eyes are so pretty and your laughter makes his stomach fill with butterflies. Not when your voice is so soothing, he could fall asleep just listening to you right now.

He forces himself to find his voice, clearing his throat.

"I don't know if you'd want to do that, I'm going to have to study through the Valentine's Day weekend. Don't you have plans?" He rubbed his neck, and you shrugged.

"I don't have plans, and I assume you don't either if you're going to be holding yourself away to study." You raise a brow, as if daring him to challenge your assumption. He scoffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head.

Pretty girl like you doesn't have plans? "No, no plans. Not this year." He shrugs, watching you pull your apron off. You fling it over the back of the chair behind the counter, one he often saw you sitting at if he came in when you were studying. He hears you chuckle slightly, shaking your head as you print a bit of empty receipt paper and tear it off, sliding a pen between your teeth as you round the counter. "This is my number. We can spend the weekend studying like bitchless losers. I'm also free this Sunday, if you are too." You nod as you write the numbers on the paper, folding it quickly and holding it out to him along with his bag. He clears his throat, nodding even though Sunday is his birthday.

"Oh, and Jungwon?" "Yes?" "I hate seeing you so mopey. A hug for your thoughts?" You hold your arms out, and his instinctive response is to fiddle with the silver ring through his lip as his cheeks heat. You wiggle your fingers, a soft smile on your lips as he nods slowly. He puts the bag of candy on the counter, inching into your embrace before you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck, his own instinctively going around your waist and resting his hands in the middle of your back loosely..

You're warm, God, you're so warm. Your hair smells like baby powder, your sweater riddled with a creamy strawberry scent. He can't help but wrap his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer and burying his face into your shoulder. He feels the cool metal of your dangling earring against his neck as you coddle against him with a hum.

"Feel better?" You murmur, the feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear making him shiver. It makes you laugh softly, your fingers coming to the nape of his neck and carding through the mess of waves. You make no move to slip away, but Jungwon tightens his hold around you anyway.

He doesn't know how long it's been until you start swaying slightly, humming softly along to the music still playing in the shop. It sounds like Valentine by Laufey.

"Sorry." He mumbles into your shoulder, blinking slowly. He feels you shake your head, your hand rubbing down his shoulders in an attempt to comfort. You don't move away, and Jungwon is beginning to think he could never get out of your embrace if you don't make the first move.

"Don't be. If I'm honest, this is making me kind of sleepy." You chuckle lightly, continuing to sway with him. "I still have to walk home."

"You walk?" He jerks his head back, looking to see your eyes slightly tired behind your glasses. You shrug, nodding. "Yeah, on most nights. It's fine, though, I only worry when it's raining." "It's been raining all week, Y/N." He says pointedly, his arms still wrapped around you as you roll your eyes. 

"I'll live." "Let me drive you home tonight. You're almost done here, right?"

He doesn't know how he's speaking so confidently, and even you look a bit taken aback before nodding.

"Uh, yeah. Are you sure? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you–" "You're not. I can wait." He doesn't give you much of a chance to say anything, patting your back gently before pulling away. You move around the shop quickly, and Jungwon turns your laptop around to peer at your studying material. All he sees is words ending in -otomy, and he scrunches his nose before saving your progress on the program and closing the device. He spots your bookmarks scattered across the counter, slipping them between the pages and shutting the books, stacking them up carefully. He places your laptop on top of the books, before you skirt back around to the counter, rolling the restock cart into the backroom.

You move behind the counter, hanging the apron up and gathering the money in the register. You count it quickly, shoving it into a manila envelope and scribbling across the front in fuschia Sharpie before sliding it into the safe behind you. He watches as you quietly slip the heavy textbooks into your bag, your face holding a frown as you zip it up. You're about to pull it off the counter and over your shoulders when Jungwon grabs the strap.

"I'll carry it." He says quickly, moving the bag to his shoulder before you can object. He swears he sees a glint of bashfulness in your eyes as you clear your throat, a soft thank you slipping as you round the counter again, swinging your keys around your finger as he grabs his bag of candy (and the little paper with your number.) He steps out of the shop, digging his car keys out of his pocket as you turn the lights off and lock the doors.

"Are you sure, Jungwon? I really don't want you to have to go out of your way." You wince, clutching the keys in your hand as he scoffs.

"Y/N, you're insane if you think I'm ever going to not offer you a ride home after finding out how much your backpack weighs." He grimaces, and you bite back your laughter. "Now, come on. You can give me directions when we get in the car." Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for you. He waits until you're settled in before closing it, opening his back door and placing your bag gingerly in the footwell. He rounds the car, opening his door and settling in quickly, putting his bag of candy in the center console.

"Where to?" He asks as he shoves the key in the ignition, feeling your eyes on him. He peers up at you, your face unreadable. "Y/N?" "Sorry, what?" You blink, and he huffs out a laugh. "I said, where to?" He gestures to the road, and you nod quickly, taking your phone out and typing your address into the GPS. He glances at it, pulling out of his parking spot when he realizes you live in the same apartment complex as he does. "Y/N." "What?"

He scoffs, reaching over and ending the route on your phone. You scrunch your nose, and he holds up his keyfob for the parking garage – the white sticker screaming Decelis Student Apartments. 

"You live there, too? How come I've never seen you?" You gasp, tucking your phone between your thighs and facing him as he fiddles with the radio. He shakes his head.

"You probably live on the West End. I share an apartment with my friends Jake and Sunoo on the North End. Our friends all live on the West End and we never see them at the complex." He snorts, settling when the radio plays out cool jazz. You nod, your lips forming an o-shape as he gets on the main road.

"I do live on the West End. My dad picked my apartment, he said it had the best view of the city." You shrug, and he nods.

"Sunoo picked ours. I wasn't going to move out of the dorms initially, but then my ceiling fell through and the University wanted me to pay for it. I said fuck that and I moved out the next week." He grimaces, and you choke out a laugh.

"Your ceiling fell through?!"

"Tell me about it, man. And I was upset, of course, but I was even more upset because the debris crushed a project I'd been working on for three weeks for my design course. I failed the semester because of that, can you believe it?" You don't respond, opting to bite back your giggles as he huffs.

"It's not funny!" "It's not, it's not. I'm sorry, Won." Won.

He doesn't bother replying, knowing he'd be a stuttering mess. Instead, the car fills with comfortable silence as you settle into the warm feeling of his old car. The warmth blasting through the vents is enough to make you sleepy, and he can tell because you're dozing off in the seat. He lets you nod off, driving carefully through the winding streets of the city. He frowns when he sees a bit of rain start to fall, fat drops of water landing on his windshield as he pulls into the West End parking garage. He'd have to walk in the rain to get to his side of the complex, and likely for over an hour.

He didn't have class tomorrow, either. He could leave his car there…maybe the cold of the rain would make the delusions of you go away.

"Y/N." He called softly, making you stir. You don't open your eyes, only humming in response and stretching your legs. He sees you wiggle your feet, rolling his eyes in amusement before he calls your name again. "Y/N. We're here." "Shit, sorry." You mutter, crossing your arms over your chest and snuggling deeper into the seat. Something about you sitting in his car with him, going home makes his chest fill with an odd feeling. Something feels closer, something feels more domestic than it ever had.

It feels oddly comforting.

"Y/N." He reaches over, unbuckling your seat belt and making you jolt awake. You furrow your brows at him, a scowl on your lips as he smiles. "As pretty as you are in my passenger seat, you have to sleep in your bed. C'mon, I'll carry your bag." "You think I'm pretty?" Your eyes are wide, and he feels his stomach drop to his ass. Did he say that shit out loud? "Of course I do. I'd be an idiot not to." He mumbles back, turning the car off as he unbuckles his seat belt. He can feel the heat of your eyes on him, but he ignores it as he slips out of the car. He's doing mental gymnastics, overthinking everything as he opens your door, offering his hand to help you out. You take it gingerly, and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge as he closes the door. He expects you to let go of his hand, but you don't – instead, holding onto it gently as he grabs your bag out of the backseat. He looks up at you as he closes the door, your bag hoisted over his shoulder.

You're just looking at him, a slight twitch of your lips as you tug on his hand.

"This way. I'm 3B." You slot your fingers in his, and Jungwon struggles not to breathe shakily as you pull him through the sliding doors of the parking garage, past the stairs. Your hand is so warm against his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles into his skin as you reach your apartment. Your doormat is shaped like a cinema ticket, ADMIT ONE scrawled across the coir.

You don't let go of his hand as you stick your keys in the doorknob, unlocking it quickly and pulling him in. You let go once he's passed the threshold, a soft tada! from your lips as he takes in your apartment.

This feels like a breach into a new perspective. Your space is spotless, but the coziest thing he'd ever seen in his life. A few throw blankets over a huge couch, lots of mood lightning, a few neon signs across the walls. Your kitchen outlet has a strawberry-shaped night light plugged into it, and lots of Polaroids hung up with clothespins pinched over twine.

"Nice place." He murmurs, looking around quietly. He gestures to your backpack, and you pull out one of the chairs at your dining table. He slips it off, setting it on the cushion before clearing his throat. "Thank you, for the ride and for carrying my things. You really didn't have to." You nod, and he rolls his eyes. "Y/N, I'd do it a million times over. Stop carrying all those books, you're going to hurt your back." He attempts to scold you, but it only makes you smile inwardly, shrugging your shoulders. He inches towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by the steps your relationship has taken in such a short amount of time…

…But God, if he doesn't like it. He could even go as far as saying he loved it.

"Don't forget to text me, okay? We're friends, I don't want you to feel stressed if I can help it." You nod, and he clears his throat as you carefully pry the front door open. He slips out, standing on your doormat as he speaks.

"I'll try not to, I'll save your number when I get home. Goodnight, Y/N."

Something about your eyes is screaming at him, but he can't pinpoint what it is as you trail your gaze around his face. Ultimately, you smile gently, nodding your head curtly. "Goodnight, Won."

FRIDAY, 5:21PM.

"I'm not going to embarrass you, I swear. Not this close to your birthday, anyway." Jake had been begging Jungwon to take him to the shop to see you in person ever since Tuesday, seeing Jungwon walk up to the apartment door typing something into his phone through the Ring camera. When Jake found out it was your number, he flipped.

Literally. A backflip in the living that ended up breaking a lamp. Sunoo's lamp, specifically. You know how that goes.

"You better not. And you're paying." Jungwon grumbles, opening the door to the shop. He doesn't see you, but he can hear you – and you're grumbling. He looks back at Jake, who is peering over Jungwon's shoulder. You're angrily refilling the strawberry yoghurt almonds, muttering about something with your brows furrowed. You seem entirely too upset to even notice that you're not alone, so Jungwon takes the opportunity to glance at Jake. "She's pretty. I'm a little scared, but she's pretty." He mumbles, and Jungwon rolls his eyes as he grabs a cellophane bag and hands one to his friend. They both quietly make their way around the shop, Jake sticking to Jungwon like glue when your head finally whips up, your eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Jesus, you guys scared me!" You breathe out, your hand to your chest as Jungwon snickers. "Well, you seemed pretty upset and kind of in your own world. Didn't want to poke the bear." He shrugs, and you suck your teeth, about to snip back when you notice Jake behind him. Jungwon sees your eyes go wide, wincing at your unprofessionalism as you try to rectify the situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you, uhm…please let me know if you need any assistance." You smile, and Jungwon glances at Jake, who is smiling back with a nod. Jake pats Jungwon's shoulder, mumbling something about circulating the shop to let him have his moment with you. 

You wait until Jake leaves to give Jungwon a scornful look, but he can't see anything but the way your lip is jutted out in a pout.

Cute, he thinks.

"You didn't text me." You say, crossing your arms over your chest as Jungwon opens the chocolate almond container. He scoffs lightly, tonguing his lip ring as he nods, his cheeks heating slightly. Looking up at you, he sees an expectant look on your face.

"I…sorry. I was nervous." He mumbles, wincing as the confident persona he had when he walked in slipped away. You hummed, an unamused look on your face as you dug your phone out of your pocket. "Give me your number, since I have to do everything myself."

Your voice is teasing, so he knows you're not really upset. He feels his face grow hotter as you flip your phone and hold it out to him, and he takes it gently. He types his number in shakily, clearing his throat as he hands it back to you.

"I will see you on Sunday, yes?" You raise a brow, and Jungwon sees Jake's head pop up from around Carousel B.

"Sunday? Jungwon, we have plans." Jake speaks up, wincing as he sees the death glare being sent over your shoulder by the younger boy.

"Plans?" Your eyes are wide with confusion, but Jake doesn't give Jungwon a chance to explain before he slides over and does it for him.

"I'm sorry, we haven't formally met. I'm Jake." He holds his hand out to you, and Jungwon watches as you take it gingerly. You give it a firm shake and tell him your name, but your face is still muddled. "You're roommates, right?" "Yes. Jungwon, does Y/N know it's your birthday on Sunday?" Your eyes widen, your hand coming to cover your mouth as you gasp.

"Jungwon! You let me ask you to study together on your birthday? Are you insane?!" "I wasn't going to do anything for my birthday anyway? I was just going to hide myself away in my room, order takeout and study until my brain melted out of my ears." Jungwon shrugs. Jake rolls his eyes, moving his hair out of his face before speaking to you.

"Y/N, we're having a little movie night. I'm formally inviting you. Bring whatever you want, or nothing at all. Jungwon, give her our address." Jake scoffs, shoving Jungwon's shoulder lightly. "Studying all night on your birthday, are you mad?"

Jake walks away, leaving Jungwon in your presence. You press your lips into a thin line, "You should've told me, Jungwon. I would've left it for another day."

He doesn't get a chance to reply, your eyes softening as you scan his face.

"I feel like a bad friend because I didn't know. I'm sorry, I should've asked."

The sad look glazing over your eyes feels like a punch in the gut.

"No! No, please don't feel bad, Y/N. It really wasn't that important, and I should've told you I had prior plans." He tries, but you shake your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. "Birthdays are important, Jungwon. It is the one day that is all about you. It's important to me." You squeeze his shoulders lightly, and his chest fills with that odd feeling again. Something about you is so, so comforting.

Your hands drop and you tuck them into your apron pockets with a soft smile, and the words tumble out before he can stop them.

"Why would it be important to you? It's not like we're best friends." If you're affected by his words, you don't show it much. You only nod, nibbling on your lip before clearing your throat. For the first time, your smile is different towards him. It's the smile you use with customers who don't get the hint, or those who make you upset by letting their kids cause havoc in the shop. It makes his chest hurt.

"Of course, Jungwon. My apologies."

You turn on your heel, rolling the restock cart away and allowing him to move around freely. Jungwon catches Jake's eyes over one of the carousels, and he's not sure what expression is on his face that Jake's furrows into one of confusion and a bit of disdain. He slinks over, bag full of salted caramel taffy.

"Everything okay?" He murmurs, and Jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Let's just go home." He whispers, watching as you pat the top of your head for your glasses. You slide them down your face, swiping your hair out of your eyes and settling back behind the counter. You continue to nibble on the inside of your cheek, your focus now on your phone screen as you begin typing across the screen.

The two of them trek up to the counter, and you tuck your phone away to help them check out. You tap the scale lightly, and Jake sets his bag in it. You give Jungwon a pointed look, and he shakes his head, crumpling the empty cellophane bag in his hand. Shrugging, you click the numbers into the calculator, flipping it over for them to see. "Nine dollars, fifteen cents." 

Jake digs his wallet out but Jungwon is faster, handing you a wad of cash and mumbling about the change. He doesn't even give you a chance to ask Jake what color ribbon he wants to tie his bag, because he takes it off the scale and pushes it into Jake's chest.

"See you around, Y/N." Jake sighs as Jungwon sulks out of the shop, and you shake your head disappointedly. "See you, Jake."

Jungwon's hand is buried in his container of cherry jelly beans, head stuck between his textbook when his phone buzzes on his desk.

NEW! Msg From: Y/N [7:49PM] hi, jungwon. it's y/n. [7:49PM] i just wanted to say i'm sorry for earlier. it's been weighing on me a bit. [7:50PM] i hope your birthday goes well :) don't worry about studying together, and have a good valentine's weekend!

He sits up quickly, snatching his phone off his desk. His lock screen widgets tell him it's raining, and the rumble of thunder confirms it.

Msg To: Y/N [7:53PM] i'm coming to drive you home, it's raining. [7:54PM] we can talk in person, okay?

He doesn't wait for a reply, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his keys off his nightstand. He walks right past Jake and Sunoo sitting on the couch, watching reruns of Bad Girls Club. "Woah, woah! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Jake calls over his shoulder, making Jungwon huff as he pulls on his windbreaker. "Giving Y/N a ride home. It's pouring out there." He mutters, grabbing his umbrella from the stand as Sunoo peers over Jake's head.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? The forecast said the rain is only going to get worse." Jungwon just sighs, zipping up his windbreaker before giving them a pointed look. "I'll be back." Neither of the men get a chance to say anything because Jungwon slams out of the apartment, barreling down the hall towards the parking garage. He finds his car by clicking his keyfob several times, wincing at the loud cracks of lightning across the night sky. He manages to pull out of the parking garage safely, clicking his tongue as he turns his heater on blast.

The drive to the shop is only six or so minutes, but the rain is coming down so strong that he can hardly see the road. His hazards are on, and he takes it slow – eventually seeing the lights of the shop come into view. He parks incredibly slowly, worming into the spot with practiced precision. Grimacing, he opens his door and shoves his umbrella out first, turning the car off quickly and sliding out. He slams the door a little too hard, but skips over the forming pools of water on the curb.

He's walking quickly towards the shop, seeing you scribbling on another manila envelope. Pulling the door open, your head snaps up, eyes wide before you blink. He doesn't speak, opting to shake his umbrella off outside before setting it on the black mat that you have in front of the door. Wiping his feet, he carefully makes his way over to the counter.

"I was an asshole, Y/N." You blink at him, flipping the fuschia Sharpie between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry. I just…it's not a big deal to me. If it had been, I would've told you. I wouldn't have said yes to studying, and I wouldn't have planned to turn my phone on Do Not Disturb the entire day if I had cared about my birthday." You blink again, nodding softly. Letting out a soft breath, you fiddle with the crease of the envelope in your hand, tapping it against your palm.

"Just because it's not something you care about, does not mean that the people who care about you shouldn't care. You should let yourself be celebrated, you should let yourself feel loved, Jungwon. We are surrounded by so much anger and hatred in this world, should we not cherish the love and appreciation that rains upon us on our special day? A day that comes once a year. Anniversaries, birthdays…those things are important." Your voice is gentle, but he feels it deep, deep in his chest.

"Studying can wait, you have your entire life to study and learn. Living in the moment, making memories, even if it's just sitting around a television and watching a movie together. That matters, those moments count. You should cherish them, don't you think?" You're leaning slightly over the counter, and he sighs inwardly, but nods.

"Yeah." "Yeah?" You whisper, a soft smile on your lips as you reach over and ruffle his hair. He swats your hand away carefully, making you snort as you turn around and slip the manila envelope into the safe. He waits quietly as you pack your backpack, instinctively reaching for the strap and hoisting it over his shoulder as you walk around the counter. You grab your coat off the rack in the entrance, fishing your keys out of the pocket as you tug it on.

You flick the lights off, and Jungwon steps out first, opening his umbrella to cover the two of you as you lock the door.

"Man, it's really pouring out here, huh?" You mutter, tucking your keys into your pocket as Jungwon nods. The two of you walk in silence to the car, everything panning out the exact same way it did the first time. Jungwon scrunches his nose as he steps into the car, not bothering to shake the umbrella off as he tosses it into the back with your backpack.

"I'm sorry, again. I don't know what came over m–" You slide your hand over his mouth, the sweet scent of raspberry floating off it. "Stop. It's over, okay? We move forward, no looking back."

His okay is muffled, and you give him a half-smile as you drop your hand, leaning your head back on the seat. You reach into your coat pocket, and hold out a piece of raspberry swirl bubblegum. "No more apologies, Won." He takes it quietly, his lip pouting as he shoves the gum into his cheek. The car is silent as he drives the two of you back home carefully, your eyes barely open as he pulls into the West End parking garage. He undoes your seat belt, making you scowl again as he bites back his smile. This time, he takes your backpack out first, shoving it onto his shoulder before opening your door and offering his hand.

"C'mon. Up we go." He wiggles his fingers, your tired eyes peering up at him as you sigh. You take his hand, your fingers cool to the touch as you interlace them with his. 

The walk to your apartment is slow and deliberate, your thumb once more tracing circles into his skin. Nothing is said – not as you fumble for your keys, not as you invite him into your apartment or as he slides the backpack off onto the same dining chair. Nothing, until he turns to face you and you're holding the door open slightly, your coat now slid off and hung up on the hook behind the door..

"Will you come over on Sunday? I'll make one of the guys come get you if I can't myself." He asks meekly, and you smile tiredly before nodding.

"Yeah, I'll be there." "And we'll study together next weekend?" 

"Yeah, Won. We can study together." You chuckle, holding your arms out. "Hug it out? I don't like tension."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Jungwon throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your neck once more. Your fingers are gentle as they card through his hair, and he relishes in the comfort of your arms, eyes closed.

It's only when he feels you press your lips to his cheek that his eyes snap open, but you speak before he can.

"As much as I enjoy this, I'm going to fall asleep standing up." You murmur in his ear, and he hates how he shivers at the feeling of your breath on his skin. He pulls back, clearing his throat as you smile tenderly. "Goodnight, Jungwon." He doesn't know how he finds his voice, mumbling a delicate good night before slinking out of your apartment. He's not even sure how he gets home, his car now parked in the North End garage and his eyes glued to the ground as he unlocks his front door. Jake and Sunoo are still seated there, casually looking up as Jungwon shuts the door.

He rests his back against it, before feeling his legs turn into jelly as he slides down it.

Jake snorts, "What happened to you? You'd think you finally manned up and kissed the girl." Sunoo snorts, hurriedly tapping Jake's shoulder and pointing at the distressed roommate on the ground. "More like she kissed him. There's lip gloss on his cheek." Jungwon only sinks further onto the floor, a noise mixed with a groan and a scream from his throat as he covers his heating face. His voice is whiny as Jake and Sunoo get off the couch and crouch around him, Sunoo's cool hand moving the younger's off his face. "She kissed me goodnight."

"That's a big step for you, isn't it?" Jake teases, and Jungwon knows it's childlike but he kicks his feet petulantly anyway. Jake laughs, running his fingers through the younger's hair gently. "But a step in the right direction, Won. I'd say take it in stride." "I agree. I'd go as far as saying she's interested in you, too." Sunoo's voice has a lilt to it, before his fingers tilt Jungwon's face towards him. "Oh, and she has good taste. I got this lip gloss for my sister a few weeks ago, I think it's called Raspberry Swirl." Raspberry Swirl.

"You know that just by looking at it?" Jake ponders aloud, grabbing Jungwon's arm to pull him off the floor. Sunoo shrugs, mirroring Jake's actions and pulling Jungwon to his feet.

"I got the same one for you for Kazuha's birthday, didn't I? I know my shit." He scoffs, and Jungwon huffs as he tugs his jacket off.

"I can never wash my face. This has to stay here permanently." He hangs the jacket up on the rack, making Jake snort.

"Wash your face, you'll break out." He pats the younger's shoulder, who only shakes his head as he practically skips to his bedroom. The older men just snicker to themselves, opting to slump back onto the couch as they hear Jungwon squeal in his bedroom.

SUNDAY, 2:16PM.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Jungwon watches you glance up, holding the door open for Jaehee to slip through. She gives him a curt nod, before turning her attention back to you. 

"Almost twenty minutes, Jaehee. I told you I had plans today." You say as you avert your gaze back to the textbook in front of you, your hand gripping a blue gel pen as you scribble onto a notebook. Jungwon steps in quietly, not bothering to announce himself as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against Carousel A.

"I know, I'm sorry. I missed the bus twice, I practically ran here." She scoffs, tugging her scarf off and skirting behind the counter. You only move forward a bit, grimacing as you tuck the shop's business card into the textbook as a page holder before shutting it.

"Anything I need to know before you leave? Aside from the fact that I now have to cover Valentine's Day weekend because of the stupid bus driving past me twice. Twice, Y/N! " "Geez, good vibes all around!" You smile, grabbing your empty backpack off the chair and setting it on the counter to slide your textbooks into it. Jungwon pushes off the carousel, brows jumping as you finally make eye contact with him. You grin, shrugging your shoulders as he reaches for the strap of the bag. He tugs it over his shoulder, and Jaehee gives him an odd glance.

"Is he part of your plans?" She elbows you lightly, making you roll your eyes. He just clears his throat, looking away as he digs in his pocket for his keys. You move to count the money in the register for your deposit as Jaehee ties the apron around her waist, hopping out into the backroom for the restock cart.

"Oh, Jaehee! Carousel B kicked the bucket this morning. Birthday party came in, the dad couldn't control them and they broke several of the containers." You groan, closing your eyes as you thumb through the cash. Jaehee makes a disappointed noise, crossing her arms as she surveys the wrecked carousel. Jungwon glances over, and sure enough – there is broken hinges and cracked plastic all over the now wasted candy in the containers.

"So no chocolate almonds, no butterscotch bites…aw man, no caramel nonpareils?" She pouts, thumbing at the cracked plastic. You shake your head begrudgingly, Jungwon looking up at you as you once more scribble in fuschia Sharpie on the manila envelope before sliding it into the safe behind you. You pull your apron over your head and hang it up, sighing as you stretch and walk out from behind the counter.

You've got a nice pair of blue jeans on, held up by a black leather belt that matches the watch around your wrist. You paired it with a cream v-neck sweater and a pink turtleneck. A thin, silver chain hangs low on your chest, and he tries not to stare too hard as you take the claw clip out of your hair, letting it fall down your back. He can hear you saying your goodbye to Jaehee, but can't say anything as you loop your arm with his and pull him out of the shop.

"How's your birthday so far, Won? Anything you wanna talk about?" 

He clears his throat, "Uhm, it's okay. Jake and Sunoo kicked me out of the apartment early to decorate, so I haven't been home yet. Heeseung and Jay are my other friends, they took me to breakfast and our friend Riki was there with a bunch of prepared gifts…I don't know. It felt…" "Good? Nice? You feel loved?" You tease, your hand wrapped around his bicep squeezing slightly as he sighed shakily. "Sure, let's say that. They don't usually go all out, but I guess twenty-one is a milestone." He murmurs to himself, and you click your tongue. "Every year is a milestone, Won." You say as he opens the car door, holding it as you slide in. Your eyes are pointed, and he looks away as he shuts the door. He slides your bag into the back again, but he feels it lighter. "Not as many books today?" He asks as he slides into the driver's seat, and you shake your head.

"I have other plans. There's this guy, his birthday is today and he thought we'd be holed away studying all day. Can you believe that?" You're grinning widely as you buckle in your seat belt, and he scoffs. "Wow, what a guy." He turns the car on, and you cross your legs at the knee before humming.

"Can we make a stop at my apartment? To drop off the bag, and I have something for you." Jungwon almost chokes as he jolts the car to a stop at the light, your eyes wide as you slide forward a bit. He winces, "Sorry, sorry! You didn't have to get my anything, Y/N. Seriously." "Consider it to be one of the things you cherish. Our friendship, I mean." You say, adjusting the seat belt back on your chest as you snuggle back into the seat. Jungwon doesn't reply, cheeks far too hot in embarrassment to even speak.

The rest of the ride is silent, aside from your soft breathing and the clicking sound as you play with the buttons on the door. Jungwon pulls carefully into the West End parking garage, seeing Jay and Heeseung carefully walking out of the apartment entrance with a box held between the two of them. Riki and Sunghoon hold the door open, their own hands full of bags as Riki catches Jungwon's eye.

"Are those your friends? That guy is staring awfully hard." You murmur, peering at Sunghoon from your seat in his car. Jungwon scoffs, nodding.

"Yeah. Be sure to tell him he has a staring problem, that freak." He mutters, and you laugh softly as he puts the car in park, turning the motor off as Jay and Heeseung start bickering as they get closer to Jay's car. Jungwon opens the door to hear Jay telling Heeseung to walk slower.

"If we drop it, I'm kicking your ass right here." Jay huffs, and Heeseung only rolls his eyes as he stops when he sees Jungwon rounding the car to get your bag. They both watch him, Riki and Sunghoon bumping into Jay's back because they're also just watching like idiots.

"Do you guys need something?" Jungwon grumbles as he opens your door, not offering his hand this time. He doesn't notice your disappointment as you step out on your own, tucking your hair behind your ear as he shuts the door. "Nope, nothing at all, loverboy." Sunghoon pipes up, earning a choked laugh from Riki.  "Let the guy live." Jay announces, and Jungwon thanks the older boy with a tight smile, guiding you to the entrance. However, Jungwon should've known better – because Heeseung opens his big, fat mouth.

"Is that the girl?" He doesn't say it loud enough for it to be heard, but it's a parking garage – everything bounces off the wall like Jungwon's fist is going to bounce off Heeseung's face the next time he gets him alone. He doesn't say anything as your eyes widen, wincing as you both slip into the apartment entrance and walk to your apartment. You don't speak, only unhooking your carabiner from your belt loop and swinging the keys around your fingers. You unlock the door, allowing him in first before closing it behind you.

"They like to tease you, right? I've heard men are like that."

He rolls his eyes and nods, sliding your backpack onto the dining chair as you slip into your kitchen. "It's their favorite pastime. You'd think we'd bully the youngest together, but it's always me." He huffs, tonguing the ring in his lip as he leans over the back of the chair. You only laugh from the kitchen, and he hears you rustling around before your head pops out of the division.

"Close your eyes." "Y/N, I don't like surprises." "C'mon, Won! Close your eyes, I promise it's worth it."

He can't deny you, not when you're practically vibrating out of your skin and bouncing on your toes. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before closing his eyes. "Alright, alright." He hears you walk over to him, placing a cold box in his hands. His nose scrunches as he feels around it, feeling a ribbon tied in a knot at the top.

"Open your eyes."

It's a box of candy from your father's shop, tied in baby blue ribbon. Not just any box, though – it's the candy mix boxes your father makes by hand the day before the order is set to be picked up. He'd only ever seen people buy them for their significant others for holidays, or anniversaries…

Or birthdays.

"Happy birthday! I know it's not much, but I did stay up all Saturday with my dad making these. We even gave you some stuff we're thinking of introducing at the shop, like these chocolate coins. They have a raspberry swirl, you like that, right?" You tap the corner of the clear box, and he eyes it. He does, he loves anything like that.

"You packed this yourself?" He murmurs, untying the knot slowly. You nod.

"Uh-huh. So there is a method to it, the top row is all stuff I've seen you pick out. Raspberry sour belts, strawberry crème melts, caramel apple hard candy and a few cherry jelly beans. Second row is stuff I've recommended that you've liked, such as the chocolate almonds, pear saltwater taffy, the raspberry bubblegum and the caramel nonpareils you had for an entire week in July. This last row is all new stuff, so the raspberry chocolate coins, some heart-shaped cherry disks, a few blueberry yoghurt almonds and then I put a few peach-raspberry fusion rings here. My dad wasn't sure you'd like them but I said we should try anyway." He's staring at you as you explain, your manicured nail carefully tapping the case as you move across it. He can tell you feel his eyes on you, because you shift with uncertainty as you look up at him.

"So, uh…what do you think? Is it okay?" 

"Yeah, it's perfect, actually. Thank you, Y/N." He whispers, running his thumb over the shop's stamp on the box. You nod slowly, before he sets the box down on the table. "Uhm, are you ready? I'm sure the guys are waiting–" "Is there something wrong, Jungwon?" You ask gently, your eyes worried and probing as you look at him. They flit all over his face as you nibble on your lip, a habit that visits his mind at the most inopportune moments – when he's studying, when he's taking a test, when he's in the shower, for fuck's sake.

"I can't think when you do that, stop it." He admits, his cheeks heating as your eyes widen. He looks away as you seem to let the pieces connect in your mind, before he hears your voice in his ear. "So…you? Me? You like me?" You look down, picking at your nails. He scoffs.

"Yeah, I have for a while. I'm sorry. I should go." He runs his tongue over his teeth, before pushing off the back of your dining chair. He doesn't bother picking the candy box back up as he fumbles with his keys, before he feels your hand on his arm yanking him back. 

He doesn't have time to think, your face far too close to his as he stumbles back in front of you. He breathes out shakily, feeling your glossed lips ghosting over his own – the soft scent of raspberry floating up and clouding his senses.

He feels his entire body heat up as you kiss him softly, your hands moving to hold his face in your palms. He doesn't let the shock stop him from melting into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. The taste of your lip gloss is seeping into his mouth as you nip at his lip ring, his hand moving the dining chairs out of the way to push you against the table. He lets you slip your tongue into his mouth as your hands move to fist his black hoodie, his own moving to your hips to lift you onto the table.

He settles between your legs, feeling your confidence grow hotter as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. He can't help but groan softly into your mouth as one of your hands slides under his hoodie, the feeling of your skin against his bare torso almost enough to make him lose his mind. He pulls back slightly, your lips chasing after his as he shakes his head, resting his forehead against yours. Your eyes are shy as you look up at him, your hand beneath his sweater moving to toy with the belt loops on his black jeans. You can't hold eye contact for the first time since he's known you, clearing your throat as you look away.

"Sorry." You murmur, and he gently holds your jaw in his fingers, moving your head back to face him.

"Yeah? Sorry?" His lips brush over yours, and he feels your breath hitch in your chest as you resist the urge to connect your lips. "Sorry for what?" "If you're going to kiss me, you should just do it. I'm not going to object." You rush out, and he can't help but smile against your lips, earning a whine from your throat. "Jungwon!" "I'm right here, pretty. Not going anywhere." He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, before mumbling against them. "I like you a lot, Y/N." "I like you, too, Won. I've liked you for so long." 

He can feel your face grow warm under his fingertips, pressing another kiss to your lips. "How long?" "Three years." You murmur softly, and he can feel your lips jut into a pout against his as he smiles. "Why are you smiling!? As far as I know, you like me, too!" "Just because we're idiots." He shakes his head, pressing his lips to yours once, twice, three times. "So stupid, I should've kissed you then. Could've been mine ages ago."

He feels your thighs tighten around his hips, "Can be yours now, Won." "Yeah? Want to?" He runs his thumb over your lip, pressing down on it slightly as your eyes look up at him. You nod silently, making him sigh exaggeratedly. "Need words, pretty." "Wanna be yours." You're pouting, before your eyes widen and you pull back, poking a finger in his chest. "Not today, though, birthday and anniversary hybrids are tacky."  He rolls his eyes, resting his hands on the tops of your thighs. "Then, when?" "Before Valentine's Day, but after today. Tomorrow, even. I'll even allow midnight." You're trying hard to put on a serious face, your finger still pointed at his chest. He glances down at your watch, clicking his tongue.

"That's not for another nine hours, pretty." He taps the face of it, and you frown as you look down at it. 

"Okay yeah, but we have to go spend your birthday with your friends anyway." "I would honestly prefer to just spend it with you." "Jungwon." You roll your eyes as he plants a kiss on your cheek, before peppering his lips all over your face. "Jungwon!" "Nine hours is too long." He mumbles against your skin, feeling your hands tug at his hoodie. "I have all of Valentine's Day weekend off because Jaehee was late today. We can spend it together and do whatever you want to make up for these nine long, grueling hours of agony, my poor baby." You add a flair of sarcasm to your voice, but Jungwon doesn't care as he squeezes your thighs gently.

"Whatever I want?" He raises a brow, scanning your face as you roll your eyes.

"You're a pervert." "You like me." "I do, unfortunately." You sigh, pressing your lips into a firm line as you nod reluctantly. "Now get your hands off me and let's go. Your friends are going to be wondering where you are." "Are you sure I can't convince you to just stay here and kiss me until we die?" He grumbles, tracing circles into your thighs as you sigh, leaning back on your hands. "I'll make you a deal. I'll stay over at yours tonight instead. I don't have class tomorrow." You offer, and he glances up at you through his lashes. He holds out his pinky finger, seeing you bite back a smile as you link yours. "Alright." He tucks the box of candy under his arm as you hop off the table, smoothing your sweater and grabbing your keys. He confidently interlaces your fingers, pulling you through the complex and into the parking garage, and doesn't let go until he has to get into his seat. He watches you pull your lip gloss from your pocket and reapply it in his car mirror, Raspberry Swirl in big, pink font across the tube. He allows the teasing from his friends as he leads you into his decorated apartment by hand, your smile shy as he introduces you to everyone one by one. He allows the teasing as you gather around him with his friends to sing Happy Birthday, and he pouts when icing is smeared on his face by multiple hands – only to feel your lips against his the moment his friends slink out of the dining room to flop on the couch with their slices of cake. He allows the teasing as Sunghoon and Riki walk into the kitchen and see you wiping his face with a damp rag, his blushing cheeks hidden by your hands as you defend him.

He doesn't care about the comments his friends make under their breath when he pulls you into his lap during the movies they put on. He doesn't care when they mutter about him being whipped when he allows you to curl up in his embrace, your face buried in his neck as he traces circles into your hip. He doesn't care when they giggle at him as you whisper in his ear about whatever is going on in the movie, because he's not even watching – instead, focused on the incredible feeling of you so close to him.

He can't lie to himself, he tries to take his time opening the gifts after the films, asking questions and acting interested. He is interested, but his eyes keep flicking back to you sitting in the corner behind his gaggle of friends, just watching him with a fond smile and the same shimmer in your eyes that you have when you follow him around the shop. You actively engage his friends, answering their questions and playing into their jokes as he finishes the haul of gifts in front of him.

He rushes the goodbyes. He hugs his friends tightly for the first time in ages, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules and lives to spend his birthday with him. He feels his body fill with impatience as they take their time saying their goodbyes to you – but he feels it all slip away when Jake and Sunoo give him a knowing look, offering to clean up and that he should go ahead and walk you home, if he'd like.

He doesn't care about what their eyes say when he gently pulls you into his room, kissing you against the door. He holds himself back as you make it a point to move the two of you towards his bed, asking if you want to get into something more comfortable. His mind runs as you pull on a pair of his pajama pants, your top half covered by one of his old band shirts before you slide back into his bed with him, your thighs settled on either side of him as his fingers hold your hips flush to his. He lets you kiss him, bunching his shirt in your fists as his fingers breach the hem of your shirt, your skin warm to the touch.

He couldn't ask for anything better, even as he checks the clock and it reads ten minutes to midnight.

MONDAY, 12:00AM.

"Be my girlfriend."

"I don't even have a shirt on, Jungwon. You couldn't wait?" "No. Be my girlfriend, please. We can go on a date later."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, fine. I'll be your girlfriend."

"At least act like you like me, will you?" He scoffs, his teeth nipping at your belly. You jolt, swatting the top of his head with a scowl.

"I do like you! I'm literally your girlfriend!" You huff, and he can't help but smile into your skin, before moving back up to hover over you. He moves your hair off your face, before holding your chin in his fingers with a soft smile. "Stop looking at me like you want to eat me." "I can just eat you, instead." He presses a kiss to your lips, your arms moving to wrap loosely around his neck. He allows it, deepening the kiss and snaking his hand down to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling the drawstring undone in one go. "Is that okay?" "Hurry up, boyfriend."

VALENTINE'S DAY, 4:32PM.

"Why baby blue?" You look up from your desk, seeing your boyfriend toying with a baby blue piece of ribbon from the shop. You'd stopped by the shop earlier that day because your father told you Jaehee was going to be late, and you went for an hour while she arrived. You'd brought Jungwon a bag of chocolate almonds and a singular piece of raspberry swirl bubblegum, one that he was blowing into a bubble now.

"Hm?" "The ribbon, babe. You never let me pick, you just use this color. Why?" You set your pen down, pursing your lips as you turn in your chair. He's got his textbooks laid out on the floor, sitting back on his hands as he looks up at you expectantly. You sigh, tapping your foot as you run a hand through your hair. "You came into the shop after you got your lip pierced during freshman year, and you got a bag of nothing but caramel apple suckers. You were wearing this baby blue sweater that said Girls Don't Cry in red thread across the front, and you were wearing that same sweater the first time we met. The color just reminds me of you, and I love that sweater on you." You shrug, watching as your boyfriend tongues the silver ring in his lip.

"You've never told me if you like it or not." He says pointedly, touching it lightly with his forefinger. You lean forward in your chair, your fingers gripping the edge of it as you smile.

"There's a lot of things I like about you, Won. I can definitely show you better than I can tell you, though." You wink, making his cheeks flush lightly. He doesn't respond, opting to look back down at his textbooks until you reach down and close one of them. He gapes up at you, but can't find the words to say anything as you slip off the chair, closing all of them one by one as you get closer to him. You push his knees down, opting to straddle him, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips.

"We need to study." He reminds you quietly, watching your face as you run your hands through his hair.

"Remember I said we could do whatever you want this weekend?" "...I feel like this is a trap." You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his hairline. "No trap. Do you want to study?"

He sighs, plucking the hem of your shirt out from where it's tucked into your pants. He rests his forehead on your collarbone, groaning into your chest. "Y/N, I need to study."

"We can study later, baby." "But I'm a pervert, huh?" He scoffs, and you hold back your laughter in an attempt to seem upset.

"Fine. I'll just go back to ignoring you at my desk." 

You move to get off his lap, but he shakes his head, holding onto the hem of your shirt. "No need for all that, angel. Just get this off for me." "Pervert." "Oh, come on!"

BABEYUN © 2025. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[invested-in-your-future]

The Portrayal of DID in Ave Mujica

(I have to preface this by saying that I am approaching this from a narrative writing standpoint and from my own personal delving into psychology overall. The subject topic is complex and the medical knowledge on it is ever-evolving, so if any of my notions are outdated, I am very, so very sorry.)

(I also understand that the topic of trauma and DID might be a triggering experience to some people, so caution is advised.)

(The discussion will also have open spoilers about the show and as such is tagged with spoiler tags.)

If there's one thing I would never expect when watching a music show, it is for it to turn into a deeply introspective psychological drama about flawed characters grappling with anxiety, mental wellness, toxicity and so on.

I did something like this a few times before and I can't help but want to explore and convey my thoughts on the character writing and handling of dissociative identity disorder within this show.

Now, Ave Mujica's predecessor, MYGO (to which Ave Mujica is a sequel), did play with the portrayal of neurodivergent-coded traits and still remains one of the best attempts at that overall, but a lot of that could be written off as subtextual.

So Ave Mujica portraying DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) in a textual way comes as a surprise.

What's even bigger surprise is the lengths the show goes to make the portrayal feel authentic and how up-to-date the overall knowledge within the writing is.

Now, for starters, some explanation is needed.

What is DID?

Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) is a type of dissociative disorder that usually develops in early childhood due to traumatic experiences—most often emotional or physical abuse or neglect.

The conditions within the environment lead to a child failing to integrate into a unified identity due to compartmentalizing their trauma and various other facotrs. In layman's terms, "distancing themselves" from their own psychological trauma.

The key aspect to understand is dissociation, a concept that is crucial to DID but NOT limited to it. To quickly explain what dissociation is—to handle specific amounts of stress and trauma, the brain copes with the information via "disconnecting" one's sense of self from perception.

Dissociation is actually a very common reaction to trauma and can manifest in different ways without it being DID (hence dissociative disorders being a whole branch of stuff)—like, for example, dissociative amnesia, where a person might forget selective memories associated with a traumatic event.

Grief tends to sometimes lead to dissociation, especially during the early phases, too.

Another common example is depersonalization, which involves "perceiving yourself as an out-of-body observer," which usually involves an altered perception of time too, with time slowing down or speeding up or the concept of time losing meaning.

Both of those can manifest as part of DID, but can also exist separately—for example, derealization and depersonalization can be symptomatic of PTSD.

DID in itself as a concept is about a person at a young age failing to integrate into "one".

The way a child's growth goes is that the mind reintegrates and parses those their experiences and traumas shaping their identity. Experiencing dissociation doesn't instantly mean DID, because dissociation by itself is a common trauma-parsing mechanism, as I said before. A child can experience trauma, neglect, or abuse without it leading to DID.

In the case of DID, the child fails to integrate, the trauma/abuse/neglect instead leading to compartmentalized elements working together—a system.

It's important to note that trauma doesn't create alters, as it's been thought for a while. It's not something fake or "split" or "created"—the system is all the alters as equally "real"; it's just that alters themselves might have different traits of the identity.

While alters are identities, they aren't necessarily separate people—they are a system. Alters might differ from each other, and have separate memories, and skill sets, but every alter is part of that system. Alters don't appear out of thin air as separate entities and it's better to view a system as an entity comprised of equally real alters functioning together, with the "primary" one (the one that's out for the longest periods) being often called "the host".

Thus, alters can be subtle and almost indistinguishable from the host. And even if they have distinct personality traits, most alters would have an awareness to "fit in" by not standing out, instead internalizing them and trying to mimic the host personality (because it's "normal").

There isn't a secret evil spirit or a ninja assassin living in a person—portrayals like that (ex: the movie "Split") are extremely harmful because they perpetuate a toxic stereotype that just isn't true.

There's no "real personality and fake personalities" and so on. The current understanding of DID is a child at a young age, due to internal and external factors, failing to integrate into a singular identity.

Now depending on how young we talking, the person might have had a personality-before or might not have at the point DID develops, but the concept of "original/core" personalities is currently considered antiquated.

And just like alters aren't "created," they can't "die" either.

Now that this covered basic terminology and information, I can actually discuss about the show itself.

First, let's talk about Mutsumi and her character.

Mutsumi

From the very first appearance in MYGO, the characterization conveys the personality of someone who is stoic, internalizes her emotions, and has trouble communicating with others—her first spoken line in the show is ambiguous.

Mutsumi is a stoic, shy student who had been in a band together with her childhood friend, Sakiko, and three other people. The band imploded after her childhood friend suffered from circumstances she felt she couldn't share with others and disbanded it.

The character is often coerced or influenced by others to do things for them and plays more of the role of an observer.

It becomes quickly obvious that Mutsumi herself is extremely uncomfortable with this role—not only blaming herself for the band's breakup but also feeling awful about her friends' mental well-being afterward.

Meanwhile, Mutsumi's childhood is no better—as a child of a star actress and a famous comedian, Mutsumi didn't have what one could call "a normal childhood.". Her parents had surrounded her with wealth but at the same time had adopted a completely hands-off approach, which led to her feeling neglected and alone. For example, she doesn't even call her mother and father dad/mom/father/mother/etc., instead opting to refer to them by their first names like friends would do. The mother is also enamored with being an actress—for example, one of the things she would offer her daughter's friends visiting would be to watch movies she starred in.

The show makes sure the audience gets a sense of the scale of her home life—a luxurious house filled with servants where her mother is a star rather than a parent.

What's more, due to the circumstances of her parents she's constantly compared to her mother and father and their talents, with expectations placed to follow in their footsteps. This ends up with her feeling like she has nothing of her own in her life—whatever praise or expectation is placed upon her ties to The Star Actress and The Comedian instead of who Mutsumi is as a person.

As a result, she values the bonds she has formed with other people a lot. She cares deeply about her childhood friend (whose family circumstances are the actual reason for the band breakup), and she cares about the one other bandmate who had kept in touch with her (the person who is mainly keeping in touch due to selfish goals though).

So when her friend decides to create a new band, Mutsumi feels responsible to support her and help her.

Unfortunately for her, her friend is going through a lot emotionally, and the entirety of the new band consists of a lot of openly toxic individuals.

Thus she is placed into a situation where she has to juggle the neglect and distance she feels at home, the expectations her suffering friend is placing upon her, the expectations the world has for her due to her parents, and the pressure from being a member of an extremely popular band—a tough deal for someone who from the beginning had trouble expressing herself.

But hey, at least since the band has the whole pseudo-visual-kei thing going for it, she will be able to wear a mask.

Which is where her journey through Ave Mujica starts.

Ave Mujica and DID

The first notable thing we see happen is her struggling with an interview, reinforcing the idea that she has trouble expressing herself.

Ironically, this is another case where someone else ends up speaking over her.

The episode ends with the first notable trigger for her emotional state worsening, which is one of the bandmates going off-script and ruining the whole "secret identity" thing by unmasking them live on stage to an audience of hundreds if not thousands.

Considering her character set-up and her issues and insecurities, this is about the second most terrifying thing to Mutsumi in the entire world.

As the bandmates argue and blame each other over what had happened, the show then proceeds to take time to showcase how the pressure and the stress of what had happened affect her psychologically and emotionally.

This is a character who had been defined by the impostor syndrome caused by the neglect of her parents and comparisons society draws to them due to their fame—essentially getting doxxed live to an audience of hundreds if not more.

The show then dedicates its runtime to showcase how this character is slowly ground down by the building up pressure and anxiety, the dam breaking due to the traumatic experience—especially when she flubs an interview, causing even more tension and pressure.

"Don't speak out; play your role; don't make mistakes; be perfect or people will hate you."

The show makes sure to slowly build tension and highlight the growing anxiety and the increasing levels of dissociation the character experiences from the world around her as she goes through interviews and photoshoots—interactions that only worsen her mental state by anxiously comparing her to her parents or reminding her of the mistakes she made, as numbness overtakes her.

The anxiety, the stress, and the tension within all build to the point of insomnia as the character retreats to the one place she was implied to feel safe in throughout the show—the rehearsal room at home where she would spend time alone playing her guitar.

Because, again, as implied, her parents don't exactly pay any attention to her beyond showering her with wealth, and everyone else views her as an extension of her parents. So for her this is one spot that is truly hers.

And even that spot has now been taken because her mother had offered the whole band to use the rehearsal room. It's no longer just her space.

Depression, anxiety, and insomnia are but a few of the things that both influence and happen as a result of dissociative disorders

The show highlights the character's worsening physical state due to her deteriorating emotional state, to the point that the character has trouble walking down the hallway.

More importantly, the people around her—her band, her parents, her friend—they don't realize that. If anything, they put more pressure on her shoulders, they tell her to not stand out, to play the role to perfection, to not ruin the performance or further ruin the band's reputation.

The pressure and tension build to the point where the show depicts the first on-screen dissociative episode for the character.

Experiencing dissociation from gazing into a mirror is actually pretty common, as is the idea of recognizing your reflection as someone else. It's not limited to DID, however. There are common experiences where people suffering from anxiety might feel a sensation that they are looking at a stranger for example. Gender dysphoria might also elicit a feeling that the reflection is "wrong".

The show also showcases another common DID symptom: losing large chunks of time as the character finds themselves jumping from the changing room to the middle of the scene without knowing how she had gotten there.

The scene also involves the character witnessing(and more importantly, recognizing) multiple of herself. While the most common way for the host personality to perceive alters is auditory, visual perception is also possible, as are all other senses.

The series of visual hallucinations ends with a character making a mistake live on stage and experiencing a complete dissociation as she slumps onto a stage prop chair motionless like a doll with strings cut..

Essentially, this is a moment when no one is in control. The host personality has experienced complete dissociation, but neither the host personality nor any alters are "behind the wheel.".

Now, to this point, the idea is still subtextual (barely) in that the story shows but doesn't tell what is happening.

However, what comes after this grows more and more textual.

The dissociative episode and perceiving multiple of "you" leads to the character experiencing even more vivid hallucinations.

This time, however, the character directly acknowledges and converses with an alter within her mind-space.

Having a healthy and proper way of communication between host and alter(s) is actually crucial to functioning as a healthy system and living with DID.

Most of the conversation, however, happens within mind-space, as the character relives her past experiences and memories as if she were watching them as an observer, with the alter narrating her life's story.

The mindscape is often metaphorical so the alters don't necessarily always appear human, but they always would be "humanlike", because the brain perceives the alter as alive. The form alters might take within the mindscape is often dependent on the kind of trauma a person has suffered.

The story as narrated by the alter establishes the reason behind why the character values playing the guitar so much—because it's something truly hers, something she had learned on her own and something that is in no way "because of her parents".

But she feels like she's not good enough.

She can't be expressive, she has trouble communicating her emotions, and thus her playing skills, while technically perfect, lack that self-expression capability.

She can't make the guitar sing.

And thus due to impostor syndrome, she concludes that being "wrong" somehow is why the bands she gets involved with on her friend's behalf keep breaking up—why her best friend keeps suffering.

A person suffering from anxiety, trauma, and neglect, someone who has issues expressing themselves, would often wrestle with issues of self-hate and depression and Mutsumi is no different there.

Experiencing one's own memories from an outside perspective, as if watching a movie or seeing themselves from outside observing something is once again quite common in terms of DID.

As the toxicity within the band keeps growing and her friend keeps suffering, the character's anxiety and stress build further, the auditory and visual hallucinations intensifying.

Just a reminder that while this goes on and Mutsumi slips in and out of her mindscape, her best friend, her parents, and the whole band are completely unaware of any of this. In their minds, the dissociative episode she had experienced was "her acting out" or "acting" or just being "closed-off".

This is the first case where the alter has a direct and open back-and-forth conversation with the Mutsumi, rather than narrating her life like before.

Alters within a system often end up serving specific purposes—because they are more comfortable doing something the host alter isn't. Sometimes it's a single memory the host can't parse or a personality trait.

The alter in question showcases worry for the host's well-being—A Protector.

The alter represents worry over the character's own well-being and where the current stressful self-destructive path may lead.

(Important Note: I do feel the need to say that alters do not neatly fall into classifications and there's not some "class system" for Alters that is always true. There are many complex reasons for how alters within a system can be and there's a lot still unknown, as is true with the overall human mind. Since alters aren't created or "split", an alter merely providing a specific role doesn't mean they exist solely for that role, as it becomes clear with the case within the show too.)

The alter believes that if Mutsumi stays with the band, she will experience the full brunt of the band imploding and the alter also perceives Sakiko as someone who is not healthy for the character—toxic even.

Mutsumi however reaffirms that she wants to support her friend no matter what, to always be by her side.

Eventually, however, as the days go on, and the band keeps arguing, the character ends up tying together what is happening now with a traumatic event in her past—her best friend's previous band imploding in a similar fashion.

The character draws parallels between the two situations—between two traumatic experiences—which further worsens their wellbeing.

As a side note I do love Dutch-angles and how universal they are in conveying things going wrong somehow or being unsettling.

All of this leads to the final straw—a confrontation with her best friend, where the character ends up being accused of "not being good enough" and "not supporting her like a friend should".

Why can't she smile or talk or be more social?

Now I do feel the need to interject and say that while her friend is completely in the wrong here, things aren't that simple. Sakiko also has her own issues, depression, traumatic experiences, and absolutely horrible life—all of which she is unable to properly parse and thus turns towards alienating everyone who cares for her rather than showing how hurt she is.

This is the final straw, the moment where the anxiety and traumatic experiences build up to the point where the host just wants to escape.

A moment where subconsciously she'd want to turn to the someone for help.

This is also the first time this alter is properly given a name (one of Mutsumi's stage persona, Mortis).

The scene is eerie and haunting, but it has to be—sleeping is as close as the situation can get to ego-death.

(Because, like I mentioned before, parts of a system can't "die".)

Once the stage play starts, both the bandmates and the audience are treated to a performance that is unlike the character's usual self.

Mortis fulfills their role, shielding the host from a traumatic experience, taking it up to themselves to do something the host would suffer trying to do. In this case, it's to pretend everything is fine and play the role her best friend expects her in the band—to smile and to talk and to help keep it together.

From this point on, Mortis is in control.

She smiles, is social, and delivers efficient jokes to lighten up the mood—she pays attention to the wellbeing of other bandmates and is extremely expressive.

It needs to be noted that the bandmates and parents STILL have no clue. The other bandmembers barely knew her for a month so they don't really see anything wrong with the change in how the character behaves. If anything they see it as an improvement.

Mortis is doing everything they can to do what the host was too anxious to—to be a perfect actress, supportive and caring for the band, and nurturing an environment where the band stays together.

There are a few problems, however.

For starters, Mortis doesn't know how to play guitar, at all.

It's a skill and talent the host alter developed and as far as systems go not everyone would have access to the same memories, experiences, or skills and it's possible for alters to develop different skills than the host too.

And second of all, as the one who wants to protect Mutsumi, Mortis feels disdain towards the main source of Mutsumi's anxiety and depression—her childhood friend, Sakiko.

In Mortis's eyes, the dissociative episode the host suffered and the extreme amounts of anxiety and stress are all because of Sakiko.

This comes to a head in a scene where Sakiko, after spending a whole episode feeling uneasy because of how different Mutsumi is now, decides to have a one-on-one talk with her about what's going on.

It's in this scene that the show textually acknowledges DID.

What finally tips her off is that Mortis refers to her differently than Mutsumi would.

This scene also provides a direct affirmation of the fact that parts of a system don't "die"—they might however go dormant and "fall asleep".

As a side note, the scene does contain ominous framing, but it's mainly due to it mainly being from Sakiko's POV. The writing, however, makes it extremely clear Mortis isn't a villain as much as someone protective of Mutsumi and spiteful towards Sakiko due to her neglect of her best friend—and that Mortis isn't entirely wrong to blame Sakiko for this.

This is kind of surprising because that's pretty "new" information as far as the medical topic of DID goes. People used to think alters could die due to a faulty understanding of the idea stemming from the older now debunked theories as I mentioned before.

The reality, however, is, that alters aren't really something "different" nor "created/split"—a system has the same brain, and the same biological functions, which means the brain can't perceive itself as "dead".

DID develops at a young age due to neglect trauma or abuse. It doesn't suddenly happen because of some extremely tragic event as fiction often depicts it (the tragic events however can cause the host to dissociate and push specific trauma onto an existing alter).

The show, once again, acknowledges that too!

The scene basically spells out that Mutsumi's DID developed at a young age as a result of parental neglect and anxiety. Note that the show doesn't imply Mortis "having been created" ever.

Mortis basically spells out what Mutsumi wouldn't have been able to say—she speaks of the stress the band had caused Mutsumi and how Sakiko's neglect and toxicity ended up causing her to retreat into sleep.

(Once again have to add this: Alters can differ in terms of their thoughts, species, speech patterns, gender orientation, etc. Alters even can have different heart rates, eyesight, and how they respond to allergies.)

Mortis is resolute to protect Mutsumi and her band, but she's also a child—one that can be very blunt in the ways Mutsumi isn't and also naive in the way Mutsumi wouldn't be.

She can't help but detest Sakiko for her toxicity and the trauma it has caused.

She bluntly states that Mutsumi ceding control to Mortis is Sakiko's fault and if Sakiko keeps acting this way instead of actually parsing her problems, Mutsumi might never return.

Mortis isn't merely "a role protecting someone". She is childish and she is, in a way spiteful and she has an opinion about Sakiko that Mutsumi might not agree with.

There's a struggle there because the dissociation between the two alters is too big—there's a lack of communication as once Mutsumi gets to interact with Mortis again, the two are talking past each other.

Mortis is way too focused on what Sakiko had caused and on how it had hurt Mutsumi, while Mutsumi is still ever so focused on how much Sakiko herself is hurting and ignoring her own problems.

It's somewhat common for alters to communicate their memories or experiences with each other via mindspace creating a filing system of sorts as some described it as a computer with a search bar or a cabinet.

The show makes sure to highlight the dissociation currently between Mutsumi and Mortis and the communication between the alters having been strained due to conflicting motives and viewpoints on their mental wellness and how much a person Mutsumi cares about affected it.

The show also doesn't shy away from the problematic treatment of mental wellness in the world and how often it gets sensationalized.

The first major example is the public's reaction to Mutsumi dissociating on the stage—the band is flooded with demands to REPEAT that "performance". In fact multiple show appearances and stuff set that as a condition for the band appearing at all. To the public there's not even an ounce of worry that this was something real—to it couldn't have been anything but acting. Which is actually a common toxic reaction towards systems in the real world. Even within the Ave Mujica tags there were people screaming how "Mutsumi must be just pretending to have it".

Even one of Mutsumi's teammates mistakes her dissociation and Mortis for masterclass acting talent and is STILL haunted and feeling inferior by it even after she KNOWS what actually happened.

The characters also use the outdated term "split personality" when conversing about Mutsumi and Mortis and a majority of the cast doesn't "get" what this is and are way out of their depths—Sakiko blames herself for "having broken" Mutsumi, Umiri and Uika just completely don't care, Nyamu feels insecure and the MYGO cast are also just as out of their depths even though they display far more empathy.

It's a sheer contrast to one character who has no direct connection to Mutsumi but is known for her blunt nature and ends up recognizing both Mutsumi and Mortis as individuals (even asking for the name of each alter when they exchange introductions) and befriending Mortis.

Likewise, when Mutsumi and Mortis end up arguing over their motives and goals and falling down the stairs, the first reactions the onlookers have is to...snap photos and film the situation because it's a famous person and maybe this is some performance too! A completely cold and cruel audience of observes that keeps snapping photos even as another characters desperately begs them not to film this.

And of course, it gets shared and goes viral on social media.

Overall so far the representation of DID and overall mental-wellness issues in Ave Mujica (and MYGO) have been the series highlight and I certainly hope the show continues to treat the subject matter with care and research needed as it further delves into the character.

Another highlight is the variety of issues and insecurities the other main characters are facing—from Sakiko's complex traumatic experiences and implied self-harm tendencies, to Uika's obsession, to Nyamu's insecurities to Umiri's complete emotional disconnect and compartmentalizing to the point others see her as lacking empathy (even though that last scene implies it's not completely true, so we don't really know what's exactly going on there).

Ave Mujica, if it lands, is shaping up to be one of the best shows in a while when it comes to character introspection and psychological themes.

[candidenigma]

I think there are two issues here.

One is the completely valid point that nowadays a person's social life, work correspondence, financial management, weather channel, local & world news, address book, personal notebook, dictionary, thesaurus, encyclopedia, calculator, maps, recipe book, and novels, games, music, etc., may all be encapsulated on their phone, whereas previously they would all involve different items. Time spent on the phone is often time spent on things the person would have to do anyway, or would want to do anyway (e.g. paying bills and reading a novel, respectively). Then there are the examples of phones providing assistance or positive/neutral coping mechanisms for some kinds of disability.

The second issue is that, while I don't think smartphones have any special ability to engender addiction (by altering brain function the way that drugs & alcohol can), it is possible for someone to develop:

a) a bad habit which is unhealthy or socially inappropriate but not an addiction

b) an addiction to something that isn't brain-altering

A bad habit might be someone mindlessly checking their phone whenever they sit down somewhere. Instead of taking a moment to observe their surroundings, think about whatever they're going to do next, or simply collect themselves, they immediately reach for their phone - without even knowing what they intend to do with it. Another example might be someone who takes out their phone during a conversation to look something up and then has to check various apps before they put it away again. Or someone who compulsively checks their phone during a meal or another activity. I have seen all these and occasionally been guilty of them. They are not addictions but they are bad habits which it takes self-discipline to break.

An actual phone addiction develops in the same way as an addiction to gambling or anything else that gives an instant and repeated dopamine hit. The addiction is not to the phone itself but to games or social media which are accessed on the phone. Some people are genetically predisposed to addiction more than others but the most significant factor is stress or boredom (which causes stress) that the person is trying to escape. A genuine phone addiction would therefore be treated in the same way as a gambling addiction. However I suspect that phone addiction - as opposed to various bad habits associated with phones - is uncommon.

I wish it was easier to talk about mobile phone addiction without sounding like a boomer

[thesunssin]

I’d love to absolutely yap about Gihun and Sangwoo and how Gihun is in this season so here it is ‼️ ( sorry for any spelling mistakes, English isn’t my first language 🙏)

I don’t see a lot of people really talk about just how much of an affect Sangwoo had on Gihun, especially on this season and how he takes his actions, and even the intentions behind it, but I’d love to go on about Gihun first.

Gihun was never a remarkable person, his life before the games was already in shambles. The company he worked under went on a strike, and that’s when he came in touch with death for the first time, witnessing a coworker die right infront of him when their workplace got attacked, the same day his wife gave birth, which he couldn’t attend, since then he’s been losing things more and more, his wife and daughter, and to cope with it all he turned to unhealthy ways, gambling and detaching from the pain by doing so. Lots of people say he was happier back then, but he was just ignoring all his issues. He’s stuck in the past, his mind refuses to register the pain he went through, and in turn to find a way to heal and work on his life. And being stuck on the past means attaching to things in his childhood, one indirectly being Sangwoo, considering he spends a lot of time with his mother. He knows his state, and indulges in it instead of pretending to be something else.

Sangwoo on the other hand, was the opposite of him. Which is everything Gihun admired in him, and everything Sangwoo envied in him. Gihun views him as someone remarkable, and obviously doesn’t shy away from saying so. But Sangwoo isn’t, and doesn’t believe so. Sangwoo his entire life was fixated on a image he wants to put out to the world, and does whatever it takes to do so, betting on everything and even his mother, who just like Gihun, views him as “ the pride of their hometown”. His methods of doing so however, were immoral and illegal, which caused him to be heavily in debt, a physical proof of his failure. Unlike Gihun, his coping mechanism simply is either money or nothing, to be something else or nothing, anything but himself, and something better than him. Because of his failure, he feels like an imposter in a suit, pretending to be everything he’s not, the image he so desperately wants to portray would falter infront of his mother, and already does infront of Gihun, so his instinct is always to run away from the past, to never go back to his hometown, to his mother, because of how ashamed he is of himself. Seeing Gihun again reminds him of everything he couldn’t be, and that reminder is a constant agony to Sangwoo.

Sangwoo envies the authenticity Gihun has, how he unapologetically connects with others in a death game, helps out Oh Ilnam, an old man who is deemed to be a weak link in a game where everyone is out to get each other, and how despite it all, he still keeps his humanity intact and doesn’t let it falter, how even though Gihun treated his mother horribly, he still had her love, while Sangwoo believes his mother only loves the image he put, not himself. Gihun is the only person who saw his image falter, in the scene where he asks him if he’d push him if it was him instead of the glass maker. Sangwoo breaks, immediately arguing back like a defensive child, his argument almost childish when he calls Gihun a “pea head” and a “dumbass”. When Sangwoo mentions how his entire life is pathetic, Gihun replies that he knows the state of his life, and asks why Sangwoo, the pride of their hometown, the graduate of SNU, is right here in the pits with him, despite their vastly different lives, to which Sangwoo replies with nothing. Gihun through the show realises more and more how insecure Sangwoo is, and in turn also perfectly broke down the image he was trying to hard to put to justify his actions. Sangwoo, probably because of the pressure of Gihun’s own admiration, feels like his actions if for the sake of Gihun’s, no matter what, is justified, which he tries to use when arguing with Gihun, but in reality, it’s his own desperation, his own need to present as something else than himself, if it means bringing worth to his life, which he deems meaningless.

When he tries to connect with someone authentically, that person being Ali, he finally tries to allow himself to be without guilt, to help without thinking of any ulterior motives, and to have a relationship that isn’t wholly transactional, but that ultimately shatters when he teams up with Ali, who he ends up actually using his skills ( intelligence and manipulation, which he wanted to use hand in hand with Ali for each other instead of against each other) and like his old clients, cheats and robs him after promising to help. A painful reflection of how Ali, who was always cheated off his money and used in his workplace in unjust ways, the people who were his bosses, now gets cheated off by someone who he used to call from boss to Hyung. That’s when Sangwoo ultimately reverts back to his mindset, that he should be striving to save himself, make worth for himself, to make the blood in his hands make sense, and for the guilt to be worth it in the end, but also sees how Gihun still helps others, how he still helped Saebyeok, and is filled with anger about how he can pretend that he doesn’t also have blood on his hands too, that they’re all gonna die because of each other, but he still moves in the same empathetic way, as if they can afford to be kind.

Season 1 to me really is about how circumstances change the people who you once knew, how capitalism and money twists people, and even the most innocent things to bloody. It’s best portrayed with two childhood friends, Sangwoo and Gihun, who once played together with just fun in their minds, the adrenaline and the joy of childhood innocence and childlike wonder in their minds, to playing the same games for money with life and death in their minds. I’d argue and say they’re both just overgrown kids, two who are stuck in the past, Gihun who refuses to accept it as it is, and stays behind, his personality almost childish and pathetic as a grown man, while Sangwoo who runs after his childhood dreams by any means, stuck in the image that’s already tainted with blood, his personality almost like an angsty teen who pretend to be older than he is, but both come from poverty, both struggling with money, and both their issues starting from that, which shaped them to be who they are, and turned them both to things they don’t recognise anymore when they reunited till and till their last moments together.

Maybe it’s my own point, but I believe that Sangwoo was relieved that Gihun hated him for that brief moments, that they’ve argued and fought, and that the image Gihun had of him was shattered, which in turn also freed him from his own lies and image he tried to convince himself too. He could finally feel angry without any restraint, without acting like he isn’t, without covering up his selfish desires and needs, and projects it all onto Gihun, absolutely shattering the image he tried so hard to keep infront of him on purpose. Their fight was brutal and lacked any real training, both not knowing how to fight properly, and their emotions speaking louder, their movements are sloppy and awkward, and Sangwoo, who’s way more brutal in this fight, gets a hold of the knife for longer and stabs Gihun, while Gihun who when he manages to get a hold of the knife ( which is impaled to his hand ) realises that he can’t complete his actions, Sangwoo realising so when he opened his eyes to see Gihuns sad ones looking back. When Gihun walks right to the very edge of the triangle of the squid, he realises that the money, all of it, would never be worth his friends life, his childhood friends life, waking back limping and bloody to ask the guard, referencing what Sangwoo said to use clause three and for both of them agree to stop the games and leave.

Sangwoos anger waters down with the rain puddles next to him, and he realises the irony of their place. The same two grown adults, who once used to play the same games, and as he says “ When we were younger, we used to play just like this and our moms would call us for dinner” the intensity of their fight, this one being bloody and violent, reflects on how they as kids would imagine their fights to be that intense and bloody, the adrenaline copying one of someone facing life and death, except they are now, and like Sangwoo says. “Nobody is calling us anymore” his voice here ( lovely detail from the actor thank you park haesoo!) broken like a child, and Gihun raises his hand to him, telling him that they can go him, that they will go home. All the anger they had seconds before now gentle and caring, all of it was always once love, all the anger was once love. Gihun gives him is pure clean hand, one without a drop of blood, while Sangwoo stretches his own bloody hand, one that isn’t tainted with his own blood, but the blood of others and the person above him, the one who’s other hand he impaled.

Gihun was so willing, so willing to make it all worthless. Everything they’ve been though, all the scars they got and had, all the deaths they’ve caused indirectly, directly, and witnessed from close or afar, the death of the people he cared for, even Saebyeoks, and his own bleeding wounds and stabs, all if it meant bringing back Sangwoo with him, he’d go penniless willingly, because he couldn’t truly blame him for everything, he couldn’t truly blame him for turning out the way he is, he admired him with his soul, loved him with every fibre of his being, and adored him and saw him as someone so remarkable and great despite it all, so he gave him his hand, his clean, untainted hand, as to tell him that he, Sangwoo, can taint it with all his sins, and he’ll still hold his hand, he’d still want him by his side. Sangwoo almost took it, almost. He wanted to let himself be, to accept that gentleness Gihun so willingly offered, and to accept the hands of his childhood friend.

That’s until he realises they won’t have a single penny for it all. That’s when he retracts his hand, and all he can do is apologise, to say sorry to his Hyung, as he stabs the knife through his neck without any remorse. In that moments, I think that’s when he realised the only way he can truly repay Gihun isn’t by taking his hand, but by leaving all the money for him, to repay his mother, to repay for Ali, Saebyeok, for all the people he caused to suffer, to repay it all with his life that was now worth 45.7B when the last person is eliminated. In the end of it all, he ignores even his own will to live and picks the most reasonable choice, letting his childhood friend win, not any random person, but Gihun. He knows him better than anyone, and within his last moments, calls out for his mother, asking Gihun to help her, to repay her in his behalf, because he couldn’t face her like this, he knows he wouldn’t be able to live with the weight of what he has done, even more-so without a single dim. But he knows Gihun wouldn’t forget him, he wouldn’t forget his mother, he wouldn’t forget his humanity, and he wouldn’t forget to care.

And so Sangwoo dies in a playground, dead in his childhood friends hands, a reflection of how everything he chased for as a kid died there too, and was always stuck in the same playground trying to prove his worth by winning.

By S2, Gihun painfully parallels everything Sangwoo was before the games. Both sharing even the same mother, who they both feel too ashamed and guilty to face, calling their families from a distance, and falling into deep depression, both sharing the same sense feeling like an imposter in their bodies for being things they aren’t ( both being wealthy, but gaining that wealth in unjust ways) their sense of worth less now and both suicidal. ( Sangwoo who tried to commit suicide in the bathtub, and Gihun who doesn’t hesitate to play Russian roulette and shoot himself) the only difference is the reason why they go back to the games.

Gihun in s2 even comes back to the games acting exactly like Sangwoo, even down to the two of them meeting someone from their past within it ( Sangwoo who met Gihun, and Gihun who now met Jungbae) but as vastly different people. Gihun uses what he had learnt directly from Sangwoo to help others ( The red light green light method, Mentioning the third clause, which was even filmed in the same space and manner, and telling others to hide before the fight broke out ) he’d always seen Sangwoo as an example of how to be, and admired him as a figure of something remarkable, so he, who already feels like an imposter in his body, who feels like he shouldn’t be the one who made it out, unconsciously begins to create an image of himself that reflects Sangwoos, one he saw as cold, intelligent, and was human despite it all.

Young Il, who Inho created, is an image of who Gihun wishes Sangwoo was. (Yes ik how that sounds lemme elaborate!) Young-il is someone who is equally as smart, someone who uses that intelligence to help the weaker, who thinks for the community, and is willing to help Gihun help others, unlike Sangwoo who limited his intelligence and help to just those who could also equally benefit him, who held back on trusting Gihun, and in the end acted on his own, and reduced Gihun’s humanity to weakness, something Gihun resented about Sangwoo, and something he sees in Young-il, who Inho knew how to build himself to be someone Gihun trusted, a familiar but strange new face. Oh but Gihun’s intentions aren’t so pure either, his guilt brought him back to the games, back to something he was stuck in, back to the past he can’t move on from and never will, his guilt drives him to think he needs to sacrifice himself for the games to end, even without any real aim or clear goal on how to, or even realising that the players will still suffer anyways, he believes his life will only gain worth if it’s used for something greater, similarly to how Sangwoo also believed his life would be worth something if he gained social status and money, something greater than himself. This time, Gihun gambles with the lives of himself and others ( the people who died for the plan) instead of horses.

Gihuns unwavering trust in others humanity, and in humanity itself, I’d say is purely because of Sangwoo. He witnessed him turn to so many things, from someone he so dearly admired, to a vile person who spat blood and killed for money, to hearing him never speak to him informally even in their angriest moments, and to crying in his arms, uttering out his mothers name as he calls him Hyung for the last time. Sangwoo, who taught him all he knew right now, couldn’t teach him how people could still be harmful, that trusting still blinds, and that being idealistic and naive isn’t good, because Sangwoo was human, Sangwoo wasn’t evil and irredeemable, he still cared for the boy he grew with, for the kid he found charming but annoyingly naive, for the kid who bragged about him every given chance, and for the same guy who he entrusted his mother to, the one who he drove all his actions for. And Gihun? He bet his entire life on that, on the shred of his cold image breaking to reveal his real vulnerability, on his humanity. And because Sangwoo showed him that, he now doesn’t believe anybody is truly evil, that they’re all victims of something bigger than themselves.

And so Gihun goes back to the games, going back to the place that his old self died in, and the one he doesn’t even know if he’ll survive in again, but is willing to gamble his life on ending it.

(sorry for how long I’ve yapped for! and if I’ve made any mistakes ❤️ please have some mercy on me! my English isn’t the best )

[4mrplumi]

ZERO (ii): SCAVENGERY . (ms/prev/next)

-> plot synopsis - you don't think you're as odd and horrifying as the news makes you out to be. but you have never much cared for the validation of others, and certainly not theirs. 

-> batfamily x serial killer reader. playlist (wip) ask 2b added to taglist

-> tw; gn reader, toxic relationships, fem love interest, unhealthy coping mechanisms, obsessive compulsive disorder, paranoia, murder, sociopathic tendencies, full on master list.

> a/n; this entry is skippable! while ive done work to establish the laws and details for the insert and the world around them, the batfamily moments one would look for scattered across. the prologue is planned for this world building exactly, and the next part will be focused on the family.

you have to be prepared. profiled. planned. not paranoid. you are not paranoid.

plans upon plans, plots behind plots, ploys behind ploys. by sixteen, you had your entire life planned out, exactly what you'd do, what you’d do if that didn’t work out, and another two back up plans just in case. you were prepared for yourself to get moved around like this too, driving into the third option you’d laid for your life. with its own backup plans, own what if’s and what not’s, probables and situations.

order. organisation. prepared.

it only makes you a little sick to see your behaviour mirrored on the man of the house, with his contingencies and protocols. but you’re not that stuck up, surely. you do it only out of resentment, you're nothing like him. he and your family are unable to save the scraps they've left, you have to do this to make up for the mess they've created.

you make sure none of your outings, meeting areas, contact lists or even the names you sign on grocery bills are the same. you can’t let any common clue stick out, whether it’s in your civilian life, or under the duty you’ve taken up. even though you’re relatively low on their radar right now, studying the world’s greatest detective’s tactics and those of his rogues has taught you that a frayed past never does anyone any good. it was a backup plan, a just in case, in the event you gained too much unwanted attention.

you want your family out of your business. it’s funny how the teenage, "i’m my own person" phase has so morbidly warped in your life. but you mean it. you don’t trust them with their rules, and will not risk anything trying to correct their errors and making yourself a target. they can live in oblivion, but you won't let them intrude. you don’t trust them.

to ensure your “friends”, as you have termed them, stay similarly in line, you make sure they update you on everything. no detail of common interest is hidden, because everything is common, aligned, on your principles and clues. everything must be known, not because you are paranoid. you check in on them, their health, their whereabouts, their families. they’re in debt, with not much space to refuse, taking the burner phones you force into their hands wearily. but sentimental isn’t the best word to use for you.

you are concerned for the wellbeing of your accomplices only to the extent that they remain in your line of work, alive. yes, you will feed their families and see to their wounds, but only and only to tip the scales of their debts towards you. it’s the exact reason why you make sure the work you put on them isn’t too much, so that there's a low chance that scale could be imbalanced, this time, against your favour. they need to remain in your control, to propel your movements and wipe out the instance of a snitch, a tattle tale.

in a way, with much reluctance, this is a trait you’ve picked up from the batman. you’ve learnt that his training comprises many different things, how to stop a man from running, how to disarm their guns, how to keep them from fleeing. but never how to kill.

of course, you don’t do as much fighting as he does, but you’ve taken the liberty to curve his ways to suit you. you’ll teach the people who work for you how to figure out plots, hidden intentions, the next move and the one after that. but never your next move.

you’ve wondered morbidly, only once, if he’d be proud of you, if your skills were somewhere more suitable, per say. but you have no intentions to change your ways for his peace of mind. you do not care for his pride.

you’ve made of yourself an independent dependant, unreliable. you'd caught on early that having expectations from others and expectations on yourself was an unnecessary burden. your first year in the manor was terrible, and it has improved only out of your isolation, your distrust.

you trusted just about no one, and made sure no one trusted you. no debt, no obligation.

you had to know everything, but not because you were paranoid.

there are only five people out of the handful you keep, allowed into your inner circle. people to confide in and accompany you when you need a plus one. they’re the easiest to keep in line, students or workers, and of course, her. your ‘girlfriend’ who too was a device for your plotting.

however, with her drawling voice and less than weary affections, you need to remind her of it often. you’ve heard very little endearment from people in your life; called “kid” or “doll” by the people in your childhood, your proper legal name by your ‘family’, and a plethora of less pleasant things by self-proclaimed rivals in school and on the streets.

so when she takes to calling you angel, you pause from smacking her hand away from curling in your hair. in an attempt to decipher her intentions, knowing damn well she did all this to gain your favour (you would not so kindly give it), you think upon it. for more hours than considered normal.

is she calling you inhumane? damian had said the same thing to you once, coming across your little hobby in the greenhouse once. is she calling you frightening? you were kinder to her than the others, just by a sliver. dick grayson had looked at you with weariness once, perhaps seeing the hint of a familiar scowl on you. or is she genuinely, as genuine as the glorified scum of your accomplices get, being genuine? an angel… you.

you don’t dwell on it any longer after that, pushing her hand aside and her legs off off of yours, leaving. you were not weak, and if that was what she was trying from you, it would not work. you were not weak, and not ashamed to show that you weren’t. people deserve to know their faults. and you’re no exception.

you did not ever, ever hide your disappointment nor disgust. damian wayne was scorned out loud for his empathy, dick grayson scowled at for his sensitivity and tim drake hissed at for his distance. jason todd for his dramatics, but not to his face, and duke for his concerns.

you judged, as an interrupting scoff that broke their peace, and did none of it for fun. you did not gain anything by irritating your brothers, nor did you hope to lose anything. you were speaking your mind, what they deserved to know.

if they resented you for it, fine! you couldn't care less, since you didn’t owe each other anything for it. you wanted them out of the way, and needed none of their kindness. you are unbothered.

you are not paranoid, but you can always be more prepared.

> a/n; i hope i’ve made a good effort to build on the mindset here. i had to rewrite this whole chapter cus the styles weren’t matching up (- - ;;) the prologues are super just set ins. plot starts from ch1 that i'm hoping to get out before my exams.

i’m incredibly happy that people are finding interest in this!! however, i need opinions on the relationship dynamics you think would be visible with the “friends”. i will expand on it maybe in a drabble? even though this is something i’m writing, i think it's important to know what kind of thoughts my sentences create. this means valid criticism on the writing is also appreciated (just please don’t be mean).

thank you for reading!!

taglist: @boredselkie @shirp-collector-of-fixations @randomlyappearingartist @bat1212 @maicenitas @xjesterxjacksx @heartjwonie @lucienneb1ue @vikkus-main @adornedlace @cuntiesweet @minorlyatfall @staarflowerr

[suzukiblu]

Day seven and the final day of February’s first weekly WIP behind the cut; “the puzzle trap sex-room”. content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he’s FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. and like, definitely internalized victim-blaming that said POV character is not actually recognizing as that. So uh, you know, just Kon’s … entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Superboy just feels so gross right now. He feels so gross and so stupid and it tasted gross and Robin wouldn't stop yanking his fucking hair no matter how fucking hard he tried to do a good job for him and then Robin called him a fucking whore while he was trying to save his fucking life and didn’t even say he did a good job and–and–

And Robin’s not some random-ass civilian or asshole supervillain, Robin’s–they've met before. They’ve worked together before, at least a couple times. They’d both literally saved each other’s stupid lives before tonight, even. Like, more than once, even! Superboy didn’t decide to get his stupid little hopeless-ass crush on him out of, like, all the fucking nonexistent publicity photos and paparazzi shots of the guy, for fuck’s sake; they actually know each other. Like–at least enough to have saved each other’s lives and like, significant chunks of both Gotham and Hawaii. 

And even after all that–even after all that, Robin still thinks he's not worth being nice to even when he actually wants to fuck him. Not worth using a condom for or listening to when he asks him not to do stuff or when he asks if they can do something different or–or–wouldn't settle for the fucking handjob, wouldn't tell him he had fucking condoms, wouldn't stop yanking his fucking hair–Robin thinks he's a mouthy bitch and a whore, but he wouldn't even let him have a stupid condom. The condoms he specifically carries to give to people, even–he'll give them to stupid drunk people and prostitutes who should've packed their fucking own, yeah, to any other kind of whore, but not to him. Robin doesn't care if he gets sick or if he just doesn't wanna get fucking come in his mouth or on his face or–or–Robin carries those for people, not–not–

Robin didn’t even kiss him first. 

But Tana’s nice to him, even though he’s so stupid that he can’t even figure out why everybody else is always so fucking mean.

Tana’d care if he got sick or felt gross or–or any of that shit. Any time he feels bad, she always makes him feel better, even when it’s over really stupid shit; even when it’s over nothing at all and she has to explain to him why he shouldn’t even be upset or–or whatever. Even when he’s made her really mad again and disappointed her again and–and–

Tana cares if he gets better or not, and nobody else even thinks he can.

And she doesn’t treat him like a fucking kid, either. Everyone else treats him like a kid, but only when they want to shut him up or ignore his opinion or what the fuck ever. Never–never for any other reason. Never for anything–else. 

At least if people wanted to treat him like a kid, they could be fuckin’ consistent about it. They could be, like–literally anything except whatever was most convenient for them at the time, whether he had any opinions about it or not. He wouldn’t even–he wouldn’t even really care about somebody doing that, he’s pretty sure, if they were just fuckin’ consistent about it. 

He doesn’t know why–like, that’s not a–he doesn’t–just, if they were consistent, then–if people treated him like a kid and were just–just–

But they don’t. Nobody does. 

So nobody fucking gets to. 

“Just–take a breath, Kid,” Superman says, because he apparently thinks he fucking gets to, the asshole. 

He doesn’t get to, though, so Superboy just grabs every light fixture he can feel in the whole stupid cave and disassembles them all. And it doesn’t even matter, obviously, because fucking Superman has fucking infrared vision anyway, but that’s not the fucking point. 

He just doesn’t want any of these assholes looking at him like that anymore.

[doodle-musically-system]

"The Future is Singlet" is offensive to us as well.

We are HAPPY as a system. We do not WANT to be one person.

Especially since when we looked more into it, it is not all of us coming together to restore the original person, it would be one of US who gets left behind while everyone else fuses into them.

They would still remember being plural and having us around. I can hardly imagine how LONELY that would be.

- Rador

I have a certain idea, as I at one point strongly implemented coping mechanisms for anxiety, grounding/staying present, and dealing with dissociation and tried to completely shut Spitz (and others who would show up less) out. It was extremely lonely. That was about 4 years ago, and at the time we thought we only had maladaptive daydreaming. We decided then that we would rather live in a daydream than reality, as reality was lonely and cruel. Now that we know that we are alters and real, we have stopped the daydreaming to be honest about our plurality and work on ourselves, but we still would rather stay as we are, and just improve how we function.

- Jazzy

Hey I know I already saw someone say this but I'm going to repeat it louder in bold because I think it needs to be said again and again until certain people shut the fuck up.

"The future is singlet" is a forced recovery statement.

It erases systems that heal and remain as systems. It furthers the idea that there is only one kind of recovery and that being singlet is the only way to be "healthy".

The future is plural because it will be accepting and inclusive of all plurals no matter what their recovery or creation looks like. The people who have already been abused can and may continue to be systems after healing and THE FUTURE SHOULD INCLUDE THEM? Like come the fuck on. "The future is singlet" is so damn offensive to me as a trauma victim. You are not protecting people like me by spreading this shit.

[4ragon]

I dunno why I've been thinking so much about Galo Thymos recently but I just keep thinking about how much I love him and how a lot of fan stuff kind of almost sands down his edges in a way? Like. Sometimes I feel like people miss some really interesting character details about him that I find fascinating. Like. He's great, and kind, and a dipshit, and also. Kind of an asshole sometimes? And I feel like sometimes people don't get that part and how it ties into the rest of his personality, but it's so important to me.

And like. Hey. Alright. Some of this is headcanon. But there's a reason the cave scene happened like it did.

Like. Insulting the burnish to Lio wasn't a fluke. This happens after the pizza scenes, so we know Galo understands and sympathizes with the struggles of the burnish. And he still insults the burnish to Lio's face, because he wants to get a rise out of him. And yes some of it is Galo just not thinking hard enough to unpack something bigoted he heard, but the only reason he says it is because he wants to make Lio angry and that overrides any other thought in his brain.

Because Galo is 'the good guy,' and Lio is 'the badguy,' and Galo wants to banter and be cool and make Lio mad. He doesn't even think about this implications of what he's saying, he doesn't even register that it's not just him insulting Lio, he's also insulting the injured people nearby, the scared children in bandages, the pizza guy he just tried to save.

But Lio doesn't get mad. Lio gets hurt. He gets upset. (Okay he's also mad, but not just mad.) And when he replies, he's not defending himself. He's defending The Burnish. We're people. We're human beings. And THAT'S what makes Galo realize what he said was wrong. Because in that instant, Lio goes from a sort of nebulous idea of 'cool enemy I have to one-up and fight' to a person who needs to protect the weak, just like Galo. And in that moment, Galo had failed to do that because he let his impulsive need to be cool and fight back override his empathy.

Or. Here's another telling detail. After the pizza scene, Galo just storms off. He gets angry and drives off without a word. And he goes to the frozen lake, because it's "where he goes to cool off." Because he doesn't want to start fights and get in trouble and make Kray look bad.

Which tells me...this has been a problem before? This is an active decision he's made to step away, and it feels like a coping mechanism he's had to figure out for himself. Because he's combative and hot headed, and that's not always constructive. I can see him easily being the kid in school that sees some bullying and starts swinging on the playground. I can also easily see him as the kind of kid that talks back in class, the kid that gets frustrated quickly when he doesn't understand something. The problem child that had to work really hard to direct his big feelings into something constructive.

And I find it so fascinating how these parts of him work together to create such a kind and goofy protagonist. Because he's also so fucking kind and empathetic. He sees a rampaging dragon and INSTANTLY notices that it's crying. He refuses to play by Kray Foresight's rules and decides to save everyone, even if it's harder, even if Kray Foresight tells him it's impossible. Because Galo is rude and impulsive and combative and he cares so so so so so much about everyone and everything, and those parts of him are intrinsically tied together.

And also I love him.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Since you’re still doing thruples and polycules

Can you do more Dick x Reader x Wally please?

And if its not too much trouble can you make the reader a Thanagarian too? i.e:Hawgirl and Hawkman

Thanagarians are so cool and dont get enough attention

-thanks and lots of love as always

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Thanagarian male reader

Headcanons

Hi guys, how’s everyone doing? I haven’t been this tired in a while, and I feel myself spiraling almost daily when I get home from my internship, but I’m trying to cope. How’s everyone else’s week been? This also means I’m so tired I’ve been struggling to do anything but sleep when I get home, but I wanted to try writing again.

Sorry if this is a bit messy, im very tired.

In this story we are going with the hawkpeople we know, coming from space. Since that’s the origin I know, and I don’t know a whole lot about the whole ancient Egypt storyline.

There could be many different ways you came to earth and when, but lets assume its some time after Dick becomes Nightwing and Wally The Flash, since Thanagarians live for longer than humans.

Maybe you work alongside the titans, or with the justice league like Carter and Shayera, maybe you even work by yourself.

Perhaps you’re somewhat of a revel amongst your people, which is why you left. You figured out how to make wings and armor like others, and wanting to be yourself and make your own decisions, you left.

This would lead to you working alongside different heroes, but in this scenario, mostly Dick and Wally.

Dick and Wally would both already be dating when you show up, but they can’t deny you are pretty damn handsome, even if it takes months for them to see you without your helmet. It’s similar enough to Hawkman and Hawkwoman that your origin is obvious, but you stand out in your own ways.

I also see Wally sighing sadly when they learn the wings aren’t natural, and that they’re mechanical, since he wanted to help you preen your feathers for bonding reasons.

It takes a while for you to learn to trust them, and for them to trust you in return. But it happens, and with that comes feelings. I have a feeling Dick would start feeling attracted to you first, or rather hes the first to realize since hes so used to looking into himself and his feelings.

It would take Wally a while, and even longer to accept that what hes feeling for you is the same thing he feels for Dick.

Dick knows that his heart is big enough to love multiple people, hes just never acted on it. Wally on the other hand fears somehow hurting Dick, and that he will become a cheater or monster for these feelings.

As Dick and Wally spend way too long accepting their feelings and talking about them, you just kinda hang out. Maybe you’ve set up your own base in your own city, with your own gaggle of villains and allies.

You would have started feeling drawn to the two heroes as well, but its so clear that they’re dating that you take a step back, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes.

Being a hero of your own city with your own villains and allies, also means you will start having your own romance. Maybe its not an exact romance, but it could develop into one. Think like Bruce and Selina, or Clark and Lois.

Hearing you mention this budding romance during on of your hangouts makes Dick and Wally finally jump into gear, since they know the chance of wooing you and confessing is dwindling.

Cue the two putting their heads together as well as they can to somehow woo their winged wonder without scaring you away.

Insert Dick using the batcomputer and bat-archive to look up everything the bats know about thanagarians, wanting to see if theres anything specific in your culture they can do to woo you. If it gets really bad, Wally might even just end up asking hawkwoman and hawkman about it, getting the info right from the source.

Shayera and Carter think it’s cute, so they help where they can, acting as the perfect wingmen, pun intended.

You tolerate them most of the time, since you guys are the closest to family you have, you do get suspicious when they start helping around your city so you can spend more time with Wally and/or Dick.

In the end they woo you the earth way, since you express regularly how much you love earth and its people, and how creative they are. Being given flowers was strange to you. You hadn’t expected it, since you were a big tough warrior and all, but the flowers left you flustered.

After that success, the two kept going when they had time outside of patrol and their daily civilian lives, even if that involved just texting you every day. Wally had a much easier time visiting you almost daily with his speed, where Dick had to take not being able to see you always.

At some point the two finally muster up the courage to confess, probably after some dramatic situation or patrol, the good ol “we cant lose you because we love you” scenario.

First you think you have misheard them, until they both take the step and kiss you, one at a time. Your eyes just widen almost comically, your helmet askew and wings quivering.

Part of you wanted to fly away to curl up under your blankets to give yourself time to blush and sputter about this, as well as give time to think about your own feelings, but the two are just so bright and intense that you cant help but buckle.

The small romance you had budding with someone else in your city never mattered much, it was just a situation that developed into more, so you don’t feel guilt about starting to date them.

It was strange to date two guys at once. Part of you feared that you would be set aside or forgotten since Dick and Wally had dated for much longer, and had a much longer history before you even showed up.

Your boyfriends of course never allowed you to think that, both of them being very affectionate in their own ways, which was different compared to you, who could be colder and have a harder time expressing your feelings.

In the end, Wally doesn’t get to preen your wings like he had hoped, but he gets to polish them. He catches you doing that yourself one day, and he immediately jumps in, asking if he can do it instead.

Its also a bonus that you are shirtless when he has to do this, allowing your speedster time to gawk at your back for however long he wanted.

Dick does it too sometimes, but mostly leaves it to Wally since you guys know it brings him a lot of joy and satisfaction. Instead, Dick will polish your helmet and weapon if he’s feeling frisky. Its kinda like foreplay sometimes. And sometimes it’s just because he’s being nice.

And of course you take them out flying on the regular. Like yeah, they could fly in so many ways, but being carried in your arms is the best.

[ezrasxfics]

i might be the brain of evil.

-

abstragedy

-

gangle pov

i sit alone in my red, white and black themed room, drawing, trying to avoid my mind being infested with thoughts of what happened that day. the spudsy’s adventure. you see, i’ve not been able to get it out of my head. no matter what i do, and how much people insist i’m forgiven, i can’t seem to forgive myself, to convince myself it’s all okay.

putting down my black mechanical pencil, i take a deep breath in, just the way ragatha had taught me to. i hold it in for a few seconds, counting down from 5 before i let it go, a small exhaling noise leaving my mouth. it doesn’t really solve the problem, but i suppose it’s a good short-term coping strategy. that, and drowning the thoughts out with the loud music blasting in my ears. or.. where my ears would be. it seemed to work when i put headphones over them, so i suppose it doesn’t matter what they’re called.

when zooble walked into my room, i didn’t even notice at first, listening to some old vocaloid song: ‘world is mine’. i had it turned all the way up, to the point it was almost painful. that way i didn’t have to think.

“uh.. hey, gangle?” zooble says, tapping me on the shoulder, making me jump and squeal in surprise, practically throwing my headphones off.

“oh-!! hi, zooble..! sorry.. i was just- just.. drawing!! yeah, that’s what i was doing!!” i ramble, and internally facepalm. zooble was so cool.. i couldn’t help but be nervous around them!! and, being nervous just lead to me acting like a total fool.

“..yeah, you were pretty distracted there. you okay?”

that single question - those two words - that was enough for tears to threaten to fall from my eyes, all the feelings i tried to push away all flooding back to the forefront of my mind, impossible to avoid.

“..yeah..! im- i’m finE-!” my voice cracks a little, a tell-tale sign. that, along with the relentless trembled in my body, slumped over due to my complete lack of energy.

“you’re a terrible liar. come on, what’s on your mind?” they reply, eyes narrowing a little in concern. despite all the clear signs they cared, that little voice was telling me otherwise. why would they care about someone like me..? someone so.. evil..?

“zooble.. do you think i’m a horrible person?” i ask before i can stop myself, and immediately regret it. they probably think i’m needy, that i don’t trust them, that i’m clingy, that—

“no, why would i think that? you’ve proved you’re a good person. is this about spudsys?”

“yes-“ i squeak, nodding at this.

“look, gangle, you f**ked up. that doesn’t make you a bad person. the fact that you feel like this on its own proves that you have good intentions. you’re taking accountability, sh*tty people don’t do that. everyone’s done things they regret. i know i have, more times than i can count. let me put it into perspective for you. say i did what you did, all the same. and afterwards, i hated myself for it, saw myself as an awful person and started isolating myself from everyone. would you see me as a bad person?” they look me in the eyes, waiting for a response, a glimmer of concern in their eyes.

“..no, of course not-!!” i begin, before getting interrupted.

“exactly. let yourself be happy, forgive yourself. you’ll never be happy if you keep beating yourself up like this.”

“..i love you—“

-

and that’s where i’m gonna end the fic becauseee im an asshole!!

reblogs are appreciated, and i take requests!!

[hotchnersangel]

MATILDA

Aaron Hotchner

-----

cw; childhood trauma, panic attacks, illusions to drinking, abuse, self-worth issues, mentions of the bau's traumas, hurt, blood, violence, bit of a persistent and overbearing hotch at the end. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY MENTION OF THESE THINGS TRIGGER YOU. This is a very deep and raw piece.

this has not been edited because it feels a bit too personal to reread lol

you have been warned.

You were always conditioned to brush off your feelings. It became a coping mechanism to get through the torment of your past. Physically you were fine but emotionally you were bruised and tainted with the colour indigo, that led to the bottled up pain.

No one knew your history or the treatment you went throuh as a child, in fact you often believed you history inferior due to your friends' upbringings. With Morgan being manipulated and molested, Emiy being dragged city to city to escape bible bashings, JJ losing a most beoved sister, Penelope losing her parents, Spencer's father leaving and him becoming a prodigy of the education system, Rossi watching his friends die right in front of him and Hotch. Well, Hotch's past had been a blurred line to the team, similar to yours. Though they knew something had happened to destroy you mentally for you to be where you were today- it was practically alien to have a member of the bau come from a happy home.

Your team had lost people around them, family, friends- life's true tragedy. But, you didn't. You lost no one but yourself.

You could argue that you lost you parents but it would be insensitive, they were still alive but they simply were never parents to you. They were strangers who barely even knew of your existence when you were present and a burden now that you were no longer around for them. No longer there to be their punching bag, no longer there to be their outlet of anger and cutthroat insults.

When the topic comes up, you deny, deny, deny.

"It's no big deal really," you would tell them with a large smile, diverting their attention and you had given them no reason to doubt you until one case.

A case that focused on parents abusing their children. You had almost gone quiet but it was not noticed, you played it off as exhaustion considering you had all been working back to back for weeks straight.

The jet felt colder that Tuesday morning, the seats glassed with a coat of ice as you sat down, letting out a shiver, Hotch takes his usual seat besides you and raises an eyebrow at you. "You okay?"

You nod with a smile, "Yeah it's no big deal, just a bit cold." You shrug, looking out the window, ready to set off for New Orleans. Midway through the flight, you feel a material rest over your legs, seeing Hotch reading the case file and hardly even looking at you. `like he could sense your need for some sort of comfort, whether it be from the sudden breeze or the pain inside your heart.

You arrive swiftly at the precinct, everyone getting up and getting to work. The team rarely struggled on a case but as you were all slumped around a board finishing your takeout. You look over the case files again and look up, causing eyes to dart over to you.

"Oh she's on-to something." Morgan exclaims.

"Let it download, almost there." Emily smirks slightly, watching the cogs turn in their head.

"A child can form a negative sense of love from super young, right?"

"Yeah, it's called our 'love map', it's the ideology of our internal software being developed from around the ages 5 to 6 based on our surroundings and the environment we grew up in." Spencer adds and agrees, seeing where you are going with this.

"And am i right in saying that it is effects our ability to process, receive and distribute love?" You inquire and Spencer nods along.

"Yeah, the result of a healthy development of self-cohesion, self-constancy, and self-agency is self-esteem. Positive affect becomes integrated with self-representation. A negative love map, essentially a distorted internal representation of what a healthy relationship looks like based on negative past experiences, can lead to significant issues in romantic relationships, including difficulty forming deep connections, distrust, emotional withdrawal, anxiety, and a tendency to repeat unhealthy patterns." Spencer nods along.

"So, this unsub had a broken home? Let's get Garcia to check records of social service calls to residents with multiple visits." Emily says to the team as they dial Garcia and are met with a sigh at the vast load she has to sieve through.

"I wouldn't rely on it there are so many left unreported." You added, shaking your head. "Look for school reports, teachers may have noticed suspicious behaviour and markings on a child- it's not much and hardly narrows it down but it is something."

The team nod impressed and you catch Hotch's eye as he narrows his eyes softly, like he was trying to read into your soul. You were, simply put, a book he could read one hundred times and still be unable to decode every last detail.

"Garcia, cross check school reports with silent 911 calls." You heart ached as you say the words, a rush of memories flooding back to you as you ran up the stairs of your house, hearing your father shouting up at you and your mother knocking on your door harshly. You'll never forget those knocks, like a constant reminder that you were always wrong. You had stolen the landline phone, really scared for your life in that moment. You were sat in you closet, knees tucked to your chest as silent tears glass your eyes.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Silence.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

"Hello?"

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

"This is 911, are you in danger?"

Yes, help. Please. I'm scared.

Your shallow breaths cut through the silence before the call ended and your inevitable fate had drawn closer.

"I've cross checked teachers note with 911 calls and i think i have something." Garcia informs the team over the phone, "It may be a long shot but a man named Dane Kirighan called 911 twice but they were both silent, as our pretty girl said." She starts. "His mom Janet Kirighan recently passsed away... it says... oh- she was bludgened to death by a flat object four months ago.."

"That could be our stressor." Aaron nods at the team as Garcia continues.

"It gets worse, his father was sentenced to life for the murder of Janet Kirighan but he was deemed deceased only last month."

You stay silent. "He has abandonment issues, as much as he hated them both for the pain they inflicted, they left him again..."

"What's his address?"

The case was long, almost a week long and you were sure it was torturous. Memories came back in floods to the point that you could no longer focus on the situation at hand but rather the pain in Dane Kirighan's voice as he screamed in the line of crossfire.

One harsh scream then silence.

That silence you knew all too well, you left the scene quickly, getting into the back of one of the SUV's. You talk to no one, you look at no one, you react to nothing. Right now, you're as lifeless as Dane. The little boy who was manipulated and formed into a killer. You shouldn't but you empathise for him. You sympathise.

You knew that there were two sides to a coin and you and Dane Kirighan were one of the same. Heads vs Tales, you saw different lives but deep down you were made from the same foundations and ou were terrified.

You excused yourself from the car, heading into the bathroom to freshen up. No one joined you, which you were grateful for because currently, you hamd was stretched against the painted wall, clawing for something to hold you body up as your other dug into the skin of your chest as if it would help you breathe. Suddenly you were back in that closet, rocking back and fourth as you hear footsteps growing nearer to you.

You heart rate picked up at the memory, you breathing becoming shallow and uneven and suddenly the all too familiar burning sensation infiltrated your lungs. The need of oxygen grew stronger as you slid down the wall of the bathroom, feeling pathetic and completely naked on that tile flooring.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Your mind became your biggest enemy as your heartbeat rung through you ears like a cry for help.

Footsteps.

The echo of your parent's footsteps grew louder in you mind as they neared the bathroom door.

Your heart was racing. Fuck. Breathing. You need to breathe. Come on. You gotta keep trying. In and Out. They're not here. You're safe.

Until silence, once again.

A laugh echoed from outside and you realised you were safe, you were home. Not all family was bad, but you didn't know how to be in the family. What was your role?

You walk back to the team after freshing up a bit, swearing an oath to yourself to avoid the topic of your panic attack.

You walk up to the team and they greet you with warm smiles.

"Nice call kid, you may not feel like it was positive but you helped." Rossi pulled you into a hug, a tight hug and you realised that the team knew. Fuck, they knew.

"How did you know?" Emiy inquires, breaking the ice to the topic. "How did you know to check for 911 calls?"

"I did it a few times," you shrug, being honest. This is what a family des right. "I knew nothing would come out of it but it felt like I was doing something."

Faces softened and you hated that.

You pull you hair into a ponytail and smile, though it is far from real. "it's no big deal."

"You were abused." Hotch's voice cuts the silence and zones his vision on you. "Do you hear me?"

"Hotch man-" Derek tries to intervene but Hotch cuts him off.

"You were abused." he repeats.

"Stop."

"You are a victim." he states so boldly with no judgement whatsoever.

"Stop," You repeat, urgently, feeling your emotions swell.

"It is a big deal. You. Were. Abused." He repeats and you are getting angry now, you hardly notice that Hotch had gestured for the others to leave.

"Hotch- stop it."

"Why are you defending them?"

"I'm not."

"The people you should trust the most hurt you, in every way they could."

"Hotch-" you feel tears threaten your eyes.

"That's why you don't trust easy. It's why you don't talk about your experiences. It's why you never miss a deadline because you think you will be punished. You think that your a burden and you bottle up your feelings and belittle them until they are overwhelming for you. Its why you can tell who is nearing you because you have our footsteps memorised. Do you know what these are?"

"Stop profiling me." You burst, your voice echoing through the walls.

A tear.

He lifts his hand.

You flinch.

He moves gently.

You look down.

He tilts your head up.

"It's all trauma responses. You are a victim of abuse and you're too thoughtful to ask for help because you don't want to gain friendships where people will leave you."

Your eyes are full of silent tears as you look up at him.

His heart breaks.

"You can let it go." He whispers to you, resting his hand on your cheek. "Do you hear me?"

You nod, you eyes rimmed red and glossy with pain.

"You-" he points at your chest, more specifically your heart. "You don't have to invite your blood related family to the party of your soul."

"Your heart, honey, truly is a party. It is beautiful, it is flourished, it is fun and it reflects every ounce of who you are. Your parents never showed you love but I do, we all do. Never be sorry for growing up surrounded by pain, never belittle your past experiences until you are on the edge okay?"

"What are you asking of me?"

"I'm asking you to let me love you... let me take care of you. You talk of all this pain like it's alright, it isn't so stop. A part of you feels like a lost cause but baby, you shine like the brightest star. You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days."

"I'm asking you to let me into your heart, your mind."

In that moment, you realised that you were starting a family who will always show you love and though it will be a long process, it will be worth it in the end.

[glitter-stained]

Read your fic. Awesome, hurts so good. Poor Jaybird...

And this prompt had me thinking about how it could go - for a longer plotline...

Sheila would be an interesting villain to write, I think. I kinda want to write her as someone who fantasizes about being the hero but lacks the moral courage, leading to disaster.

Was figuring out her backstory. Wanted to run it by and see what you think...

Taking her backstory...the reason she left Gotham is because of a botched illegal abortion that killed the girl.

Of course, at the time the story is written, that would have helped mark her as evil - not just the patient dying part, but the abortion itself.

The thing is, when abortion is restricted, there will be those willing to illegally provide it. Some are in it for the money, some because they are willing to take the risk to give women a choice.

Now, Sheila could just have been in it for money. But from what we know, she got pregnant from her boyfriend, and as soon as giving birth or close, left the baby with him and walked out of their lives.

That sounds a lot like she didn't want to be a mother, but was pressured into carrying to term. She could be assumed to sympathise with another girl in trouble - and agree to help, even if it's illegal.

But of course, she's probably not a specialist and a backalley clinic may not have enough resources to handle a crisis... So something goes wrong with the abortion.

Maybe she can still save the girl if she called 911, got her to a better hospital. But if she does that, she will be on the hook for performing an illegal abortion. Her career will be over, she may go to jail.

If she does nothing, the girl will die, but there's nothing they can prove against her... She leaves. Quietly. Convinces herself the girl would have died anyway.

She goes with Red Cross with a confused idea of making amends. And she is doing that. She is helping people. She is doing good.

And then again things go wrong... She again has to choose between harm to her or betrayal to someone who trusted her...

I see your vision anon, and that does seem like something Sheila would do!

I support any story that distances her backstory from Starlin's "abortions are bad" take, so I love the idea of her being genuinely just a doctor trying to help her patient -and love how you tied that into Jason's birth. Also really works with what we know of Sheila, that her primary coping mechanism in the face of stress and the consequences of her own actions seems to be avoidance (esp thinking about her looking at jason getting beaten up with clear distress and then looking away and smoking)

I also love the fact this means that all three of Jason's parents would have done something illegal as a consequence of a fucked up system (heroin abuse, Willis Todd's crimes, illegal abortions) and abandoned him because of this. And for Jason's character, the way he was introduced in #408, and the way he challenges Batman's views... The themes are right there, come on.

[lonestardust]

alone. a man on his island. THIS IS ITTTT this is the owen strand thesis!!!!!!!!!! that's owen strand underscored; a man tethered to his griefs and past more than anything. the tragic hero whose tragedies come in packages, losing his brother followed by being abandoned by his father, losing his team followed by losing the family he made and the woman he loved, his son getting married? oh but his brother is dying. he walks straight into burning buildings but lets himself become a dumpster fire of coping mechanisms because he's never been the most brave to face himself unreservedly. he's the man at the forefront and the man at the very back of the room; he retreats back to himself when his work is done saving the day, the first to go back to his office during ceremonies and special moments. he's the one who doesn't have anyone to call before an astroid hits. owen is the crisis captain more than anything else, he's been forced to survive and grief one too many times it just shaped his idea of love and purpose; TK is in freefall? owen is ready, willing and able to turn both their lives upside down to save his kid. gwyn is pregnant? owen is committed. his brother dying and wants to put an end to his own suffering? owen's there. his fellow captain needs money to continue her chemo treatment? marjan in crisis? mateo in need? judd alone and falling apart? he is there, wiling to give whatever it takes. but at the end of the day when the mission is over he's sort of not there.

and it's so true to his tragic heroism how this didn't end for him (on screen) with a speech or at a ceremony but exactly and authentically him; his team all huddled together with Judd basically in charge already while owen is alone and away doing what he knows best; sacrificing himself on the altar of the greater good.

[unhetalia]

i like to think that alfred's history and troublesomed relationship with both arthur and matthew contributed to his mental health issues. speaking of mh issues, do you think human psychiatric medication would work or would there be some nation specific kind?

Gosh, I've been thinking about this on and off, and it's interesting. I talked about physical and mental health conditions I think some Nations have, and I definitely think in that universe, medications would work, but I think the dosage would have to be a LOT more than what a regular human would/could take and it's effects would never last as long, partially because I think the same thing that allows Nations to heal super fast interferes with medications.

ON THE OTHER HAND, you've also introduced me to a different concept - one where Nations are so outside of human (despite being human shaped) that they just work Differently to us. I think in this case, the idea of mental and physical illness would work completely different. Human medication wouldn't work because what they have isn't something human. However, I don't love the idea that things are connected to the economy or what's happening in government, so I'm drawing a blank on WHAT causes them illness. I don't think they would, either.

In the case of Austria, for example, no one knows why exactly he became unable to use his legs, and whether or not it's temporary. (I like to think this results in Austria doing a lot more research on Nations' health and becoming a kind of expert - though there's still a lot they don't know).

MENTAL HEALTH. Even more than physical health, this would have to be different from humans. They're immortal, and that means there's so much more trauma that they have to encounter. Two countries having a bad personal relationship will have to go on the back-burner because maybe Alfred and Matthew have a shit relationship but US and Canada have an incredibly close one (recent events notwithstanding).

However, I do think his relationships with them have had an impact on his personality. Alfred was a child raised by the wilderness and then all of a sudden he's sort of made to be part of politics and this society with a lot of rules, and the people who should have helped guide him either hated him or didn't have time (France was going through it for a bit there). No one teaches him the rules, only gets angry when he breaks them. He develops defense mechanisms to cope. Wilful ignorance and casual disregard.

I think his relationship with Arthur and Matt, who everyone views as his family, also creates an Al who desperately believes you choose your family. Our guy is a found family stan. EXCEPT he has such a hard time being part of the convoluted Nation dynamic that it's also hard for him to obtain that found family. THIS leads to my ultimate headcanon that Alfred is stray animal adopter, because animals are easy. You love them and they love you and that's enough.

[staarriezz]

intro post! 💉⸝⸝ ꒱꒱

haiii my name is star! :3 i ammmm 19, a mortuary science major, and also a funeral home associate! i luv luv luv to write, buttttt i only write genshin ficssss…

what i won’t write:

nsfw with underage characters

incest

character x character (unless it’s a ship i really like….. sorry idk i’m not good at it..)

polyamory (again nothing against it, just not good at writing it :<)

necrophilia, pedophilia, zoophilia

anything to do with scat, vomit, piss, or major pain/wounds being inflicted (ex. cutting, stabbing, ESPECIALLY breaking of bones. big no no.)

what i will write:

nsfw

sfw

fluff, angst, whatever

character x reader

scenarios/oneshots, nsfw alphabet, those kinds of things

basically anything i DIDN’T mention

who i will write for:

i’m open to write for any genshin character, playable or not! including all the fatui. I LOOOOVE writing for dottore, wriothesley, and capitano the most…. so i’ll prolly prioritize those requests :3

soooo yah! keep in mind i have a life, i’m a college student, i work, and i’m involved in a lot of activities. so be nice about how long it takes me to write fics!! SEND ME REQUESTS PLS!

tw under the cut

i AM willing to write SOME noncon/dubcon scenarios…. it is a coping mechanism! be kind and keep in mind that everyone has their own ways of coping!! :3