#you could do with this scenario whatever you wanted

[revelboo]

this right here is your ask to write a character you have wanted to write but haven’t gotten around to yet!!!

How about a shit-post scenario? I need more of the extra tiny Blokees… give me a teeny Star, Sounders, and Shocky

Mass Displacement Mayhem

Wheeljack x Reader

• Sitting crosslegged and sorting odds and ends into piles for Wheeljack, your head snaps up at the ‘oops.’ Eyes widening when he lunges for you, a hand outstretched and doesn’t quite make it. Whatever he was working on blowing up. Throwing your arms over your head as Wheeljack slams into the counter you’re on and curls himself over you, you hear shrapnel pinging off his back. And the blast of energy released knocks you flat as Wheeljack makes a funny noise. Then mass shifts, his optics widening as he scrambles to climb up with you. Hooking your arms around him, you pull and fall backwards with him sprawled on you. But when you lift your head, your mouth just falls open.

• “Ow,” he groans, before panicking that maybe he’s crushing you and trying to get up. Only to look up at you. “Oh.” Because you’re bigger than him somehow. He’d mass displaced past his limit and he’s about knee high on you now. Flexing his servos as he sits up, his vocal indicators flash pink when you touch them. “That wasn’t supposed to do that.”

• He’s toddler sized. Still Jackie, but so little. And you know darn well he’s an adult bot, but you still grin like an idiot and examine his little hands. Because he’s so adorable this size. When he doesn’t protest, you drag him into your lap, hooking your arms around him like a teddy bear. “I didn’t know you could go this small.”

• “I can’t.” Vocal indicators fully red now as you wrap yourself around him fussing over how tiny he is- and why are you talking to him like that? Voice cooing like he’s a sparkling. “I uh, really need to mass shift back?” That earns him an unhappy sounding ‘aww’ and he grimaces. “I guess i don’t have to right this second,” he mutters, venting when you hug him even tighter. Because being cuddled definitely isn’t awful. Hears you murmur he’s ‘toddler sized’ and has no idea what that means, but at least you’re happy? And as far as explosions go, this one wasn’t that bad, really. Comm pinging, he acknowledges it and hears Ratchet’s furious voice yell at him. “What the Pit did you do? I know this was somehow you!” Oops. Maybe it was isolated and not that- optics shuttering as pings start coming in from all over the Ark.

• Making a noise, Wheeljack just slumps, face pressed against you as his hands fist in your shirt. “I did it to everyone,” he groans as you bite back a laugh knowing he won’t appreciate it. But he’s so cute this way. It can’t be all that bad, they can just mass shift back, right?

[all4aoki]

  ⊹ 𝓜IXED 𝓤P 𝓛EAVE 𝓜E 𝓐LONE ⠀Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ִ

it takes time for people to change . . . enha x f!reader (yjw focused), poly!enha, enha8thmember

wc . . . 18.2k , warnings! my poor attempts of writing angst, YN’s a little insensitive with the concept of a poly relationship but it’s new to her so it’s fine, she also cries a lot, alcohol, daddy issues & mommy issues, familial struggles in general, her dad makes a rude comment to Won, rushed writing, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread

DISCLAIMER! I’m not assuming anything about Jungwon’s family. They’re barely mentioned and are soley used as a way for him & reader to connect

when speaking in … korean, english, japanese

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©all4aoki, 2024

     You had always dreaded your birthday month. 

There was never a specific reason, apart from the intense emotions that would never fail to arrive with April. When you lived in New Zealand, it was because of the first term of your school year ending. When you were studying in Paris, your life had been stressful during every waking moment due to the competitive environment of young girls vying to stay in the program. The hopes of becoming a dancer at the company outweighing anything else that might have once been important. Not to mention the intense living environment. And then, as a trainee, you were so focused on evaluations and working for your spot as an idol that you almost forgot to keep track of the days. 

Long story short, you were never able to enjoy your birthday. At some point, you had concluded that the day came with so much stress and anxiety, that you would never be able to bask in the fact that those hours were supposed to be all about you, spent celebrating your existence. 

This year, though, was a completely different scenario. 

Enhypen had been spending the days working towards their second comeback, and you could already tell it would be one of significance. You were all finally establishing your style of music and to say the least, it was a genre that you thoroughly enjoyed. It was just a plus that the other members liked everything about it as well. The recording process was finally something you were beginning to truly understand, and the dancing–well, the dancing had always been easy for you. One of the only things that you felt confident in and had maintained a passion for despite the challenges you’d endured. 

When April 7th came the year of your seventeenth birthday (eighteen by Korean standards), you’d found yourself in the practice room. Once again with the routine for Border: Carnival’s title track.

Sweat was beginning to perspire on the sides of your neck and the skin beneath your tank top and sweatpants was warm. You pushed stringy pieces of your hair out of your face, huffing out a breath of air as you got into position for the second verse yet again. Of course, you’d forgotten a hair tie. 

Thankfully, though, Jay hadn’t. As you passed him to get to your spot behind Riki, he gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders, spinning you back towards him. 

“Is a low pony okay?”

The grin on your face probably made you look like an idiot as your boyfriend began sweeping your hair, which was getting maybe a bit too long, off your skin. 

“Be careful, it’s kind of knotty right now,” you said softly as Jay smoothed some of the bumps that had formed as he pulled your hair back for you. Giddiness spiraled through your heart as he secured the hair tie that he’d been beginning to keep on his wrist at all times in your hair. His hands patted your shoulders gently as he steered you back to your place in the formation just as the choreographer finished talking with Riki. 

“There you go, birthday girl.” As you glanced over your shoulder at Jay, the subtle shade of red on his ears almost made you giggle. You could tell he wanted to do more than touch your hair, but with the circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t. 

Whatever throuple had been formed between Jay, Sunghoon, and you had quickly become the light of your life. Of course, it wasn’t without its struggles, but slowly, you were all starting to fall into a pattern that worked. A way where you could show your love for them equally while they expressed their love for you as well without the other getting too jealous. It was early in your relationship with Jay still, and for that reason, the three of you had yet to share the fact that you were practically being shared with the others.

It was moments like these where you wished that it wouldn’t be like this much longer. Where you wouldn’t have to hide your affection for both of your boyfriends in front of your other loved ones. Where you could dote on them like the loving girlfriend you strived to be because they both deserved that and more.

“Let’s walk through the counts for Riki’s part one more time,” the choreographer announced. You shifted your body weight into the balls of your feet as you spread your legs apart, preparing to move through the moves slower than what should’ve been humanly possible. 

Cleaning was always the most tedious part of any routine. Especially when it came to comebacks. One more time became two became three and then every time you closed your eyes all you could think of was the minuscule details that had been instructed upon your group. 

You wondered how long it would take for you to get tired of performing this song. Every day you would have a different opinion of how you felt about the melody you were moving to. Nine times out of ten, you adored every part of your job. But there were fleeting moments where you never wanted to hear the lyrics again. 

And unfortunately, despite only being a few hours into the dance rehearsal, you’d reached that point with Drunk-Dazed. It was probably only going to last for the rest of the day, but as you exited the marking stage of cleaning the second verse, you were growing tired. Maybe that feeling of this birthday being different was something your intuition had gotten wrong because that exhaustion you’d gotten so used to was finally showing its face. 

Your knees met the hardwood floor again as you dropped down between Jungwon and Heeseung, and you could only hope that the hits you were performing were sharper than they felt. Exhaustion blooming in your muscles, you pushed yourself back to your feet, bending your legs and folding at the waist, letting the beat control your tempo and trusting your body to deliver despite being on auto-pilot. 

Snap back up. Feet out. Twist right heel. Left arm out–

Pain snapped up through your nose as Jungwon’s hand collided with your face. Instantly, your right hand shot to the throbbing exuding from your nose, but your feet continued moving. 

The music didn’t stop. The only notice you got was the choreographer yelling at you to move a step back when it came to that formation. 

Only when Jake slid into the center as the pre-chorus began did the room finally go silent. 

“Your guys’ heads are all different angles right now,” the choreographer said as she moved to stand facing the mirror so you all could see her. “Top left-hand corner. Heeseung, your head is too far back…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what she said, opting to focus on the marks of red on the back of the hand that you pulled away from your nose. It was difficult not to groan in annoyance, and when your face reflected your emotions, more discomfort came from your nose as it scrunched up. 

“YN-ie’s bleeding,” Jungwon said, voice loud enough for the choreographer to hear. As well as everyone else. Including your two boyfriends, who quickly jerked in your direction, but the staff in charge swiftly stopped them.

“Jungwon go help her. YN, your part’s next so try to make it as quick as possible.”

Your fingers found the spot beneath the nostril that was bleeding, “Okay!” Following her instructions, you hastily moved across the practice room to your bags as Jungwon grabbed some tissues before heading over to the spot you were standing in. 

One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers disrupting the position of some of your hair and causing some flyaways. “Tilt your head back… There you go,” he murmured as you did what your leader asked. “Keep pinching your nose bridge,” Jungwon added as he held some of the tissues under your nostrils.

You weren’t particularly fond of this position. Or how soft his voice was. Unsure of what to say as he tended to your injury, you cleared your throat, “You could grab a tampon from my bag. We can just stick it up my nose and call it quits.”

Jungwon scoffed out a chuckle, rearranging the tissues so a clean part continued soaking up the blood. 

“Then all the blood would go to your brain and you would move even slower than you are right now.”

You pretended to pout, “I’m not slow. And that’s probably the most inaccurate thing that I’ve heard all day.”

“Really?” Jungwon laughed at the joke in his head before he even said it. “You spend the majority of your time with Sunghoon but that’s the most inaccurate thing you’ve heard?”

Side-eyeing him, you push away the hand that was holding the tissues under your nose. “Don’t be mean,” you laugh, trying to take the soft papers from his hand. Jungwon tries to avoid your grasp.

“Let me help you,” Jungwon says as he slaps your hand away, placing the tissues back beneath your nose. “It’s your birthday after all.”

You sigh, “One birthday where I don’t have to do anything is all I’ve ever wanted, but no–” The pressure on your nose shoots up through your nerves again and you let out a small, ‘Ow’. Jungwon instantly pulls away, muttering lots of small “Sorry’s”. You smile at him gently, fighting the remaining soreness of your nose as you do so, “It’s okay, Oppa.”

“If it makes you feel better,” he says softly, “I know how you feel.”

You take a moment, swallowing harshly as your ears distantly pick up the sounds of the choreographer working with the other members. “Nobody knows exactly how you feel,” you say, trying to keep your voice low. Jungwon smiles a little at your words, and as you look at his eyes, you can see how they’re trained on your nose and the work he’s doing to stop the bleeding. 

“Okay…” he huffs, the small smile still tilting the corners of his lips up, “Can I say I’ve been in the same situation before?”

You shrug, trying not to laugh, “You can say whatever you want.”

Jungwon shoots you a look as he fixes the tissues under your nose again. It was easy to forget that Jungwon was older than you, even if it only was by two months, and that you needed to treat him with the same respect the older members expected from you too. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, it was just so effortless to let sarcasm and teasing slip into your conversations, causing your words that would probably give Heeseung a heart attack if you ever said them to him. 

“My family…” Jungwon starts quietly, and you can see the way the light behind his warm eyes dims a bit. “They expected a lot from me no matter the circumstances, or the day, or whatever–” he cuts himself off, and you can tell that he’s frustrated at the fact he can’t find the right words. 

“Take your time,” you offer gently. Jungwon nods, unable to meet your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls the tissues away from your nose, and you lower your chin again. No more blood slips from your nostrils, and you figure you should probably rejoin the group. But a larger part of you wants to continue this conversation with Jungwon. Your feet stay glued to the same spot as you hear the choreographer call your guys’ names. The boy in front of you instantly drops the vulnerable look on his face, offering a smile that is clearly fake to the staff as he nods. And then you’re turning around to head back into the formation, leaving the topic back in the corner of the room.

Your eyes meet Sangmi’s, and your best friend raises her eyebrows at the dazed expression you’re sporting. All you can manage is a small shake of your head, wordlessly telling her to drop it. With the way her mouth presses into a thin line, you conclude she’s suppressing a laugh and you resist the urge to go over and smack her upside the head.

“YN-ssi,” the sharp voice of the choreographer cuts through your thoughts, and your head snaps to look over at her. She gestures for you to get into your spot and you nod once, following the directions.

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” As you begin working through your moves in the pre-chorus, the once bothersome sound of the beat served as the perfect thing to distract you from overthinking Jungwon’s words. 

Sunghoon and Jay are quick to attach themselves to your sides the moment those three and a half hours finish, Sunghoon being able to wrap his arm around your waist while Jay keeps an appropriate distance from you. 

“I’m fine, Hoon,” you mutter as your boyfriend takes hold of your chin to try and tilt your head up.

Sunghoon looks down at you and you puff out a small breath, “We need to wrap you in bubble wrap or something, I swear you’re always getting hurt.”

You push away his hand as it tries to touch your nose. 

“Stop.”

Jay chuckles as he leans down to collect your bag along with his, enjoying the sight of you playfully scolding Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon-ah, Jungwon-ie took care of her. You touching her nose would probably make it worse.” Sunghoon’s lips turn down into a frown and you feel your heart melt a little at the cute sight. Halfheartedly, you reach up to ruffle Sunghoon’s hair, the strands damp with perspiration. 

“Thank you for being concerned, Hoon, but I really am okay.” 

The younger’s dark eyes dart over to Jay before they settle back on you as he sighs deeply, wrapping both of his arms around you in a small hug.

“Some birthday you’re having.” You laugh at his words as he presses his chin onto your shoulder.

Your line of vision turns to Jay, “Some birthday I’ll be having when I’m home, back in bed and cuddling with you both.” Jay reaches out to hold onto your arm as you begin to move away from Sunghoon, jerking towards the direction of the door. 

Jay glances around the room for a moment, and you realize that Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung have already left. “Just– wait here for one more second,” Jay says quietly as you grip onto Sunghoon’s forearms that are still wrapped around you. 

“Why? People have already started leaving–” 

The majority of the lights in the room turn off as the door pushes open, a cluster of flames held by Jungwon being the only light source as the boy, along with the rest of your members approach you. When you set your eyes on the cake, their singing meeting your ears as a sort of fondness fills your heart. You don’t remember the last time someone sang to you like this on your birthday. Cake and all.

Your eyes dart around to each of their faces, taking in the way the glow of the fire makes their features shine in a golden light. The shadow of Heeseung’s lashes, the fondness of Jay’s smile, the way Jake’s eyes turn up slightly as he grins, Sunghoon’s hair falling in front of his eyes, the soft flush growing on Sunoo’s cheeks like rosebuds, and Riki’s plump lips forming over the words of the song. Sangmi’s little claps to the uneven beat and… the way Jungwon’s looking at you. 

His eyes are shining. You always thought that when people described eyes like that, it never made sense, but the gleam in his pupils proves you wrong. Something jerks in your chest, but before you can think about it for too long, your members have finished the song. All of them stare at you as they wait for you to blow out the candles. 

“Make a wish,” Jungwon whispers, your eyes flicking back to his to still see the sparkle evident. Clutching your hands together in front of your chest, you lean forward, thinking for a moment before gently blowing the flames out. The rest of the group claps as you stand up straight to smile at them, the lights in the practice room flicking back on. 

As Jungwon hands the cake off to one of the staff, Jay reaches to wrap an arm around your middle before the younger speaks up again. “What’d you wish for?” You can’t tell him. Not because of the whole saying that wishes wouldn’t come true if you said them aloud, but because you just–couldn’t. “Now why would I tell you that?” At least you could still make him laugh.

When you get back to the dorm, there’s an hour left of your birthday. And you’re exhausted. 

The group enters the small house, voices still loud despite the long day of training and preparation as you all kick off your shoes and remove your coats. Sunghoon’s following you so closely as you enter the dorm that his scent is the only thing you can smell and you turn around to look at him.

“Tired?” You nod and he repeats the action back to you. “Wanna go to bed?”

You glance down at your phone screen and the sight that meets you has a sudden rush of sadness overwhelming you. 

“I think I want to sleep alone tonight…” As you trail off, Sunghoon furrows his thick brows a little.

“Is something wrong? Thought you wanted to cuddle?”

You smile weakly, trying to play off the tightness that’s growing quickly and suddenly in your chest. “Nope. Just don’t wanna have to share with a bed-hog tonight.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, hand reaching out to rub your arm softly. 

“I don’t hog the bed, but if that’s what you want, then of course…” he pauses for a moment, hand still brushing over the skin of your bicep and sending little sensations through you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re nodding before you can even process it. “If I wasn’t I would tell you. Or Jay.”

Sunghoon might still be a little suspicious, you can’t tell, but he hides it well. His lips form a firm line as he wraps his arms around you in a weak hug, chin resting on your hair as you both still stand in the entrance of the dorm, all of the other members already spreading out throughout the home. Your mind drifts to Jay for a moment, before Sunghoon places a soft kiss on your head.

“Wait for a second, Jay’s getting your present from us.”

“Can we save it for tomorrow?” you say after a beat of silence and you regret it right away. Sunghoon pulls back a bit, expression reading concern again as you rush to cover your words. “I’m just really tired–”

“What’s wrong?” Jay approaches the two of you, a small and poorly wrapped box in his hands. 

You shake your head and force a smile for what feels like the hundredth time as you shift in Sunghoon’s arms. “Nothing. Did you guys wrap that yourselves?”

They both chuckle. “Is it that obvious?” Sunghoon asks.

“Unfortunately,” you tease them, taking the gift from Jay while uttering a small ‘Thanks’. 

Jay tilts his head to the side as your eyes stay down, refusing to meet his own. “You gonna go to bed?” A soft hum of agreement leaves your throat and Jay’s head moves in an understanding nod. Sunghoon lets go of you as you move to hug your boyfriend. 

“I’ll open this tomorrow morning with you guys. Try to make my birthday last as long as possible.”

Jay smiles before kissing you softly. The touch of his lips helps to soothe the dull feeling of pain in your heart. He pulls away, thumb running gently over your cheek as Sunghoon watches you both. 

“You’re so loved, do you know that?”

How did they see through you so effortlessly? How did they just always know? It didn’t feel fair sometimes and you have to swallow thickly to push down your tears. “I know,” you confirm quietly and Jay smiles a little again as Sunghoon kisses your cheek. 

“Good. Because we love you so much,” Jay continues and you hope your face shows him how much you truly appreciate his words. 

“I love you both too. So much.”

They both give you one more quick kiss before releasing you from their grips. You stand still for another moment, just taking in the sight of them both and letting yourself soak in their love. Sometimes, you don’t know what you did to deserve it, but you have to always promise yourself to appreciate it more than anything else you have in your life. 

“Good night.”

“Good night. Happy birthday, princess,” Sunghoon says and you smile watery at them both before turning to walk down the hallway to your room. 

As you enter the space, closing the door behind you, you don’t bother to turn the lights on. That dreaded feeling that you can only describe as heavy, and scary, weighing on you as you place the birthday present on your desk before going to sit on your bed. 

11:46 P.M. You unlock your phone slowly, going to contacts and pressing on the one you’re looking for. The line rings twice before you hear your sister pick up the call.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she cheers from the other side and you laugh at the sound of her voice. From the way her words are rough, you can tell she's just woken up. “You’re an adult now… Oh my god, you’re getting old.”

“At least I’m not 24. You’re almost halfway to thirty.” 

Your sister shushes you, “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, otherwise I wouldn’t let that slide.” You laugh. Hearing her talk takes you back to a time when you were younger. The familiarity of her accent makes you think about New Zealand, about your home, and how easy things were when you were growing up. Nostalgia and sadness are a dangerous combination, and you push them away from your heart to the best of your ability. 

“I sent you a card. I don’t think it’ll get to Korea anytime soon, but it’s on the way,” she continues and you’re thankful for the way she keeps talking. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “It was busy, but it was good.”

“That’s good,” she says before she’s quiet for a moment. “Have mum and dad said anything?” 

That’s what you had been waiting for–the other shoe to drop. You try to not start crying instantly. 

“Um… not yet,” you offer pathetically. She kisses her teeth on the other side of the phone. Then she mutters something under her breath. You don’t bother trying to catch it, you know she’s probably insulting them. “But you know, there’s still time.”

Nine minutes.

“Don’t worry about it, Sissy.” She says as you reach up to rub at your eyes. 

“I know I shouldn’t. It just sucks.” You suck in a deep breath. “I thought… I thought that they would at least wish me a happy birthday, you know?” Your voice grows shaky, and the first tear falls. You wipe it away before it gets even halfway down your cheek. 

“I know,” your sister tries to comfort you. “They’ll come around eventually, YN. They’re shitty parents, but you’re their daughter. They can’t stay mad at you for following your dreams forever.” 

More tears escape your eyes, “I hope not.” And you really do. No matter how much you want to hate them for the way they’ve treated you since you joined I-Land, you can’t. Maybe you’re too forgiving, or maybe it’s the fact that they’re just the people who are supposed to love you no matter what. “I’m, um… I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” your sister doesn’t protest, knowing that you probably want to be alone right now. “I love you.”

Her words make you smile a little, “I love you too.” And then you hang up the call. 

You don’t want to dwell on it, you’ve already done that enough for probably the rest of your life. You feel embarrassed as you sit on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at your phone screen, watching as the clock ticks closer to the next day and waiting for even just the smallest message from your parents. It never comes.

Time passes quickly after that. You want to throw your phone, want to smash it into pieces as that sadness from being neglected turns into anger. It was a cycle you were used to, and you still hadn’t learned how to cope with it. When Sangmi comes into your shared room, you finally get up to change out of your clothes and into your pajamas. Usually, you both would talk a little before bed, but it seems like she’s even more tired than you, because as soon as her head hits the pillows, the sound of her soft snores fills the silence. 

You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning and trying to think of anything else, but it’s no use. Your emotions are too heavy and it feels like nothing will make you feel better. Not even Jay or Sunghoon. Eventually, you peel back the covers of your bed, slipping out of your room quietly as you go to the kitchen to try and find any melatonin that you might’ve left in the cabinets. 

The dorm is dark as you slip through the hallways, everyone else is asleep or at least tucked away in their rooms as you enter the kitchen. The tile is cool on your feet as you quietly pad over to the cabinets above the stove, the different temperature helping to ground you a bit. You stand on your toes as you open the first one. Nothing. The next. Nothing. The next. Nothing–

“What’re you doing?” You let out a small yelp, jumping slightly as you startle, hand releasing the cabinet door and causing it to slam shut. Both you and Jungwon flinch at the loud slam. Neither of you speak, listening to hear if the sound woke anyone up. It’s almost eerie how quiet the dorm is. 

You clear your throat, turning around fully to face the boy standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was gonna get some melatonin, but I couldn’t find any…”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a moment. “...We keep all of the medications and medicine in the bathrooms.”

“Oh,” you laugh weakly. “You’re right. I must’ve been thinking about… What we did at home.” Your bottom lip trembles at the realization. God, you missed being at home so badly. You missed being with your family so badly. “Sorry,” you mumble as you feel the water slip down your face, “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep crying.”

Jungwon is rushing around the kitchen island as you lift your hands to your face, trying to hide the way your features scrunch together as you begin crying. He pulls you into his arms, shushing you softly as his hands squeeze you tightly. Distantly, you remember something about how pressure can help calm anxiety and stress, but the front of your mind is focused on how everything hurts. 

“I don’t know what I did, Wonnie, I don’t know why they won’t talk to me,” you say through small breaths, soaking the fabric of his shirt. 

He tries to look down at your face, but you’re pressed too tightly against his body. “Who? Who isn’t talking to you?”

“My parents,” you say and you miss the flicker of heartbreak on Jungwon’s face. 

Jungwon sucks in a deep breath, “Can you breathe with me for a second?” 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. His chest rises against yours as he takes a breath and you count to four as he holds it before letting it out. You let your thoughts slip away from you as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat and follow along with his breathing. A few minutes pass, but your crying slowly comes to a stop. Jungwon glances down at you.

“Let’s go get you back to bed,” he says softly. As you stare blankly in front of you, eyes tracing over the wet spot your eyes have left on his t-shirt over and over, circles and circles, his hands run over your arms again. “YN?”

Your eyes flutter a little, breaking out of the way you’d been spacing out, “Yeah… yeah, okay.” Maybe Jungwon doesn’t want to let go of you as you move to walk past him, but one of his hands pathetically tries to grab at your sleeve. You let it fall. And you ignore the pang of guilt you feel for the small action. Distantly, his footsteps follow you to the bathroom he shares with Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Riki. They’re not as loud as yours and you can tell he’s wearing socks. 

Crazy, you think to yourself lamely, how can someone sleep with socks on?

He waits until you’re both inside the bathroom, door swinging shut before he flicks the light on–the blaring, white flashes through the space, making both of you flinch from how bright it is. A gentle hand on your shoulder guides you to sit on the closed toilet as Jungwon moves to one of the drawers. Trying to provide yourself some comfort, you cross your arms over your stomach, hiding your hands in the long sleeves of the crewneck. 

“Here,” Jungwon whispers, crouching down in front of you as he offers you two of the dark purple gummies. You don’t meet his eyes as you take them, popping one in your mouth at a time and chewing slowly before swallowing. It takes thirty minutes for them to work. You don’t want to stay awake for thirty more minutes.

Jungwon sits on the tile of the bathroom floor, shoulder practically brushing your knee as he folds his own up to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. 

From the way he falls silent, you know he’s struggling with what to say. Whether it’s for the sake of simply breaking the silence or for trying to comfort you, you don’t care. You just want to hear his voice. Something that’s familiar, something that you can trust, and that you know will make you feel better. Because that’s always the way it’d been with Jungwon: easy. And not a lot of things felt easy anymore, so maybe you clung onto that and held him to that expectation a little too much, but you couldn’t help it. It was annoying, feeling useless in these scenarios. 

“Earlier,” Jungwon finally speaks up. Neither one of you looks at the other when he utters the small word, but you don’t have to. You know what he’s going to talk about and you don’t need to see the expression on his face as you hear the emotions in his voice. 

“What I was going to say was, I know what it’s like to have high expectations set for you. And I know how much it can destroy you when you don’t meet those expectations.” He sucks in a deep breath, but as he keeps talking, you hear the vulnerability slowly disappear. He was entering leader mode. This wasn’t the same Jungwon that was talking to you earlier, this Jungwon was trying to teach you something.

“Not for yourself, but for the people you wanted to meet those expectations for.”

You finally look at him. He’s staring at the wall and you count to ten before he blinks slowly. He looks tired and suddenly, you feel bad for having him stay with you like this. “I’m the one that’s hardest on myself. I do everything for myself.”

When Jungwon makes eye contact with you, you watch as walls begin to break down again. And you feel your own reservations fading as well.

“No, you don’t.” 

You hate that he’s right. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I met you… You make sacrifices for everyone, YN-ie, sometimes I feel like you make more than I do. And I’m the leader.”

“I care about you guys–”

“You think that the only way you can make us like you is if you do everything for us. If you act the way you think we want you to act.”

Okay.

It was too late at night to be analyzed like this and the day was too full of emotions and Jungwon’s words just make you angry. “You don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“You know how I grew up,” he continued. “With my grandma, because my parents were always busy. I know they loved me. I know they love me, but there were and are times when I’ve felt like I was never doing enough to be worthy of their love.”

“Jungwon, seriously–” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything around me anymore,” he pushes, voice soft. You hate the way that it almost seems like he’s being so careful with words all of a sudden after dropping everything on you like that. “Anything from us– we love you YN and we want you to trust us…”

“It’s not that simple…” 

This conversation isn’t going to progress anywhere else, that much you can tell. The melatonin may not fully be in effect yet, but you can feel the symptoms slowly start and you welcome the drowsiness wholeheartedly. With the way Jungwon looks at you, you know he’s thinking the same thing, and your eyes stay on his face as he pushes himself up from the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says and you wish you could tell him it’s okay. “I didn’t mean to– I didn’t mean to be so… intense.”

When he offers you a hand, you take it, and he gently pulls you into another hug. It feels nice being held like this now that the onslaught of emotions from the previous couple of hours has passed through you. 

“I just. I just wish you could see what I see.” His voice is soft, and you nod against his chest, eyelids finally drooping. “D’you want to walk?”

Your voice is strained, “No.”

You don’t have to ask him to carry you, Jungwon’s already lifting you into his arms and turning off the bathroom light before exiting back out into the hallway. The silence is welcomed by you as he walks you back to your room, his arms strong around you, and you wonder when he’d grown up so much without you noticing. You feel your mind begin to drift, eyes falling shut as he carefully pushes your room’s door open, doing his best not to wake Sangmi. 

The warm and comforting touch of your bed causes you to melt into the sheets instantly as Jungwon lays you down. Subconsciously, you feel him lift your hair off your neck, knowing you hate the feeling of it rubbing against your skin while you sleep, and sense your covers being pulled up to your chin, another thing of comfort. 

You’re practically asleep when you feel his lips ghost over your forehead, the sensation is barely there, but you still feel it. 

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

You fall unconscious before you hear him say anything else.

Things between you and Jungwon don’t change in the slightest. In fact, neither of you bother to acknowledge what had happened a few nights ago. You don’t need to see his thoughts to know that the conversation is playing on a loop in his mind as well. There's the tiniest bit of tension like he’s walking on eggshells around you and is scared to say the wrong thing. It’s clear he feels bad for everything he’d said that night too, with how he’s begun focusing more and more of his attention on you–not letting you lift a finger to do anything. You were going to just let things fizzle out on their own, hopefully working up enough courage to talk to him about things, but Jay pushes things into motion before you can process it anymore. 

“I’m worried about Jungwon.”

You look up at him from your spot on his chest, resting your chin on him as you furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Jay brushes his thumb over your cheekbone as he looks at you. Awkwardly, you laugh a little, “What?”

“He seems like he’s throwing himself into things too much,” he explains.

You purse your lips a little, eyes flicking around his face while trying to tell what he’s thinking. “Elaborate.”

Jay huffs out a laugh. “I know he’s still getting used to being our leader, and he’s doing an amazing job but I think that he’s too focused on making sure everyone else is happy–”

“And not taking care of himself,” you finish, nodding slightly as you understand where your boyfriend’s coming from. Looking back over the past week, you can’t believe that you hadn’t noticed that yourself. Your observation skills were something you were extremely proud of, and the little signs of Jungwon coming back to the dorms later than the rest of the members, politely refusing to join the group’s activities because he was busy planning better ways to lead practice, and receiving hours upon hours of talks with your manager was something you should’ve put together sooner. 

You shift slightly to lay your head back down, and Jay’s arms wrap back around your middle. “I think you’re one of the only people he’ll listen to.”

“Oppa–”

“I’m being serious. I don’t know if it’s because you guys are closer in age or what, but he connects with you really well.” You weren’t really sure either, but you knew Jay was right. “Could you please talk to him? Not for me, but for him?”

His caring for the younger boy made your heart soften. It was one of the things you loved most about Jay–how attentive he was even if he didn’t always want to show it. Turning your head a little, you smile softly and nod, causing Jay to smile as well. 

“Of course.” He kisses you gently.

There’s no point in wasting time. Partly because you don’t know when you’re going to get a day off again and because you now have a growing concern for Jungwon. Later that day, your mind drifts back to that night where you’d both sat in the bathroom together as you stand in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as you wait for Jungwon to show his face in the dorms again. How could he ask you to not hide anything from him when he was hiding things from you? Well, not necessarily hiding, but neglecting. 

Sure, Jungwon and you still had a ways to go in terms of opening up to one another, but Jay was right in the sense that you guys connected on a level that you hadn’t with any of the others. Even Sunghoon and Jay. Cold water splashes over your hand as your water bottle overflows and instantly, you’re pulling away and mentally scolding yourself for getting distracted. 

Distantly though, you hear the familiar timber of your fellow 04-liner’s voice, followed by Jake’s accent. Leaving your water bottle on the counter, you exit the kitchen, going into the living room where they’re both standing together, huddled around Jungwon’s phone. 

“Hey,” you say and they both look up at you, their wide eyes making your heart stutter pathetically in your chest. “What’re you guys doing?”

Jungwon clears his throat, “Just… looking over schedules for tomorrow.” 

Oh, he’s definitely lying.

You raise the corners of your lips, doing your best to put on a charming smile as you move closer to them. “Jungwon-oppa are you doing anything else today?”

“Well–” 

“Perfect, can we go get coffee?” You don’t let him finish, and Jake laughs at the expression on Jungwon’s face. Jungwon’s eyes flick over to Jake and the elder immediately stifles his laugh, pressing his lips together in a way that you can tell he’s trying to hold back another bout of laughter. When Jungwon looks back at you, you can see the hesitance in his eyes. “Please? I wanted to talk to you about something,” you ask, trying to lay the pleading on thick to get him to agree. 

You can see the way your words and begging eyes begin to work on his mind, and it isn’t long before he’s nodding, muttering something about calling your manager. Jake’s arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into a half hug as you smirk a little in satisfaction. Halfheartedly, you squeeze your arms around Jake, causing him to let out a small grunt before you move away from him, reaching to grab Jungwon’s arm.

“Let’s go, I haven’t had any caffeine all day and I’m starting to get a headache.”

Jungwon grumbles a little as you pull him along, shouting a small goodbye to Jake as you both begin to put your shoes and coats on. “That’s a sign of addiction. You’re having withdrawals.”

“Coffee is one of the safest things you could be addicted to.”

“Well–”

“Actually–”

“Stop cutting me off,” Jungwon laughs as he finishes zipping up his jacket, grabbing his wallet as well as a bucket hat and a black mask. 

You reach for the front door, opening it as you chuckle. “Sorry, Oppa.” Jungwon shakes his head, but his smile gives it away. You know it’s hard for him to even pretend to be mad at you. Because you feel the same way. He jokes with you as you get into the car, and during the drive to the coffee shop that you both frequent together, you’re the one who does most of the talking. It’s not like you, but you don’t really mind because you can tell Jungwon’s thinking about something. 

One of the staff trails along behind you and Jungwon as you enter the café, a subtle sense of protection as you stay close to the boy making you only have to worry about this upcoming conversation. The two of you order and wait off to the side for your drinks. Catching glimpses of Jungwon while the whirring of espresso machines and chatter resound throughout the room, you feel that mixture of worry and concern. It was only recently that you had experienced the same issue of ignoring your needs for others, so you had a feeling of what Jungwon was going through. That being said, only if Jay was actually right about what he’d been seeing with the younger man. 

With the icy feeling of your cold brew in hand, you loop your arm through one of Jungwon’s as you both exit the café, opting to go on a small walk before heading back to the dorms. For a moment, you take the chance to breathe, trying to deduct what to say before he ultimately beats you to it. 

“Why did you ask me to come with you?”

You look up at him, the ice in your drink rattling against the cup with each of your steps. As convincingly as you can make it, you smile, “What? D’you not think I want to spend time with you?” He tilts his head a little, tufts of black hair peeking out from under his beanie.

“Not that, but Jake was right there too.”

“How observant of you.”

“Seriously, YN-ie.” His serious tone makes you awkwardly laugh, head turning straight forward again as you sip at your drink. Jungwon pauses for a moment before speaking up again, “Is this about what happened last week?”

You do your best to choose your words carefully. “Kind of. Figured we would have to talk about it eventually.”

Jungwon hums, “So we’re ripping off the bandaid?”

“Yes, we are,” you agree. Tightening your grip on his arm a little, you feel his phone buzz in the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jungwon starts in a hushed voice, probably trying to keep the words between you and him and away from the prying ears of other people walking by the two of you. Thank goodness for face masks. “I think… I just think that I don’t really know how to comfort you yet.”

You shrug, “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was weird that you knew those things so easily, that’s all.”

Jungwon chuckles, “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

“I never said I was mysterious.” You laugh along with him before the sound dies away. “Having people that see me so effortlessly, that understand me so quickly, it’s not something I’m used to.”

You can tell Jungwon is listening intently to you by the way his body is ever so slightly tilted toward yours. When you glance at his eyes, it’s clear he’s thinking deeply about something, maybe trying to piece your words together. Suddenly, you’re thankful for the fresh air as you take a deep breath.

“When I was growing up, I was moving around a lot–you know… New Zealand and France and Japan and I never really got to make super strong connections,” you say, eyes traveling over the trees that line one side of the sidewalk. “And I’m thankful for all of the experiences I’ve had, but I know that I’m shy and that I don’t really open up to people, but I think it’s because I’ve always felt like an outsider wherever I went.”

Cat-like eyes are on you, and you feel a wave of comfort as you lock your irises with him. 

“Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve learned how to trust you faster than most people.”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a few steps and you sniffle awkwardly. “Don’t feel too special,” you push and his eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling a smile.

“I trust you too,” Jungwon says directly. His words help soothe you a bit. 

You clear your throat, “And you would tell me if you’re struggling, right?”

With the way Jungwon hesitates, you know he wouldn’t, and it’s hard for the thought to not make you a little sad.

“Maybe after I got past it,” he offers. “I know I tell you to tell me everything, but part of that is because you’re supposed to.” Your heart clenches in your chest. “I’m supposed to worry about you, take care of you. Not the other way around.”

This time, he looks away from you. “You know I care about you, Jungwon-oppa. Let me show it.” You pause before continuing, seeing how your words are affecting him and how the defensiveness in his body language slowly begins to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“Everything with this life is… a lot. I knew being an idol would be demanding but,” he pauses and you nod for him to keep going. “We haven’t even had our first comeback yet and I feel like I’m struggling more than normal.”

You squeeze his arm in a comforting manner. “Don’t be afraid to lean on us, Jungwon-oppa. We’re here to help you, you don’t need to be so strong all of the time.”

The sight of his wide eyes as he looks down at you has your heart soften in your chest. “But I’m not supposed to need your help. I was picked for this position despite my age and I have to show that I can do it–”

“I understand that your responsibilities are stressful and that you just want to help us but, Jungwon, someone needs to put you first if you’re not going to do that for yourself.”

Both of your steps have slowed, and you realize that you’re subconsciously trying to prolong this conversation before the pair of you make it back to the car. Condensation from your barely-touched drink collects on your palm, and the plastic feels slippery.

“I can be that someone for you, Junwong-oppa.”

He’s avoiding eye contact with you now. You don’t think the pink on his cheeks and ears is from the chilly air anymore. 

“Yes, our lives would’ve been different if we hadn’t decided to pursue this path–” you say, voice growing in volume as a kind of passion takes over you for him to listen to you. For Jungwon to understand. “My parents wouldn’t be so mad at me and you wouldn’t have so many responsibilities at such a young age, but we have to work through these struggles together…” 

Now, your steps have come to a halt and you pull on Jungwon’s arm for him to fully face you. “We can help each other, Oppa. Neither of us should have to fight these things on our own.” He looks hesitant, like he’s fighting between two different ideas. Desperate, you reach up, holding his cheek to get him to meet your eyes.

“Please.”

That single word is what breaks through his resistance, and you can’t help but let out a breath of relief as he slowly nods.

The date for the comeback was drawing closer at a greater speed than your debut. Which was weird. Sure, both were major milestones, but you thought that there would be more of a rush for Border: Day One. Considering the short turnaround after I-Land and all. Or maybe it was because of everything that’d been happening with your personal life. Honestly, you didn’t know anymore–much less care. 

There was nothing normal about your life, as much as you liked to pretend there was, nothing was normal. Not the fact that you had the blessing of being able to love two men at the same time, not your career, not the responsibilities you had at such a young age. But there were glimpses of a normal life at times, certain things that made you slip into the fantasy. Like Jungwon. 

When you were with each other, you’d agreed to let each other believe that you were just normal high school students. Was it healthy? Probably not, but it was a way you were helping each other cope, and that was all you could ask for with all of the pressure you both faced. There was no idol talk allowed. It was just YN and Jungwon. Even if you had to go to most places with a bodyguard. Although, those instances were becoming less and less. Because you both were getting really good at sneaking out. 

“Mmm… okay. If you were a kind of silverware, what would you be?” you ask him, taking another bite of your coconut ice cream and letting it melt on your tongue. It was becoming harder to come up with questions for each other, hence the ‘What if?’ game you’d been playing for the expanse of the night. 

The two of you continue walking along the mostly empty sidewalk. It was late at night, not many people were out and about and the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over Jungwon as you look over at him.

“Knife.”

You furrow your eyebrows and laugh a little at his answer. “Why?”

“Because I’m skinny and dangerous–”

“No, no, absolutely not,” you laugh loudly, leaning into his side at his words.

There’s a look of surprise on his face, his black face mask pulled down around his chin as he eats his vanilla ice cream. “What? I thought there were no wrong answers.”

“Well, that was a wrong answer–” Jungwon cuts you off as he bumps your shoulder with his, causing you to stumble away from him a bit. You watch as he bites back a laugh. “You think you’re sooo funny.”

Jungwon takes another bite of his dessert, “I am funny.”

You pout a little, falling back into his side. “Sometimes,” you mumble, stirring your ice cream around absentmindedly, “Not when you’re making fun of me though. Or shoving me.”

“Oh, please, I barely touched you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna be in trouble with Hoonie when he sees the giant bruise on my shoulder.” Jungwon lets out a scoff. When he looks over at you, you feel your heart leap at the cute smile on his face, his dimples prominent. 

“You’re being dramatic.”

You shrug, “Maybe you don’t know your own strength.”

Jungwon laughs, head falling forwards a little and some of his hair flops over his eyes. You picture yourself pushing it away, but you stop yourself. 

“I know Sunghoon-hyung’s strength. And Jay-hyung’s strength, and I wouldn’t be a match for either of them.”

Looking back down at your melting ice cream, you speak up again, “I think you might actually have a chance against Jay-oppa– Wait.” You stop walking, looking at Jungwon in surprise. 

Did he know about you and Jay?

How? You’d never told him. You weren’t planning on telling any of them for a while, considering how the relationship was still something you were getting used to. Sunghoon and Jay as well. But Jungwon just glances back at you like it’s the most casual thing in the world, not a hint of judgment in his brown eyes and you don’t know if you should be relieved or concerned.

“You know?”

Jungwon sighs softly, linking one of his arms with yours as he pulls you to start walking in the direction of the dorm again. You still gap at him, wide-eyed at how normal he seems. 

“I’ve been spending pretty much every day with you for like, two weeks. I would’ve been an idiot to not notice it.”

“And?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, and for a moment, he almost looks sad. “And you love them. And they love you and I think that that’s the only thing that should matter.”

A wave of reassurance washes over you and suddenly, your chest feels much lighter. Your throat is less tight. “We were gonna tell you all eventually, I swear.”

Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s okay, YN-ie, really. We aren’t obligated to know everything about you.

“But you– But we aren’t supposed to have any more secrets from each other,” you counter. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re trying to do. If you actually want him to be upset at you or not. After all, the guilt of lying to your members about your relationship had been building to a point where you were ready to burst. As you thought about it, it felt nice for someone else to know. Especially because that someone was Jungwon. 

His adam's-apple bobs as he swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “We both know that’s just wishful thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Hey…”

“What I want you to know is that you deserve all of the love in the world. You’re a special girl, YN, after everything you’ve been through you should accept the love they have for you. And I support it.”

A smile grows on your lips and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Wonnie.” And you really do mean it. Thankfully, the conversation drifts to other topics as you continue making your way back to the dorm. There’s a sense of relief in your heart. Happiness and… some kind of sadness whose source you aren’t aware of. More like it’s a source you’re not ready to confront yet. Instead, you let yourself enjoy Jungwon’s company. Listening to his laugh and the way he speaks, you notice that he sounds happier. Sounds more like himself and you let yourself believe that the time you’ve been spending with him has helped. 

Because it’s at least helped you.

The dorm is silent when you both come back, going through the steps of your sneaking-in/out routine without alerting any of the other members or manager. It’s hard though as you try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the scenario and you find yourself not wanting to say goodnight to him. 

But you both take off your shoes and your coats and your hats and masks, and you both throw away your now empty ice cream cups. And then Jungwon says goodnight and you find it in yourself to mutter a small “Goodnight” back. 

When you make your way through the hallway and peek into your room, Sunghoon is still asleep in your bed, and Sangmi in hers. The giddy feeling in your heart only grows. Maybe Jungwon was right, you conclude as you gently shut the door behind you, heading towards your bathroom. Maybe you did deserve the love the world was finally beginning to offer you. 

You feel like you’re floating as you get ready for bed, a stupid smile on your face as you massage serums into your skin and brush your teeth hastily. The taste of coconut ice cream fights through the taste of mint and Jungwon’s face still bullies itself to the front of your mind and– Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Confused, you let your toothbrush hang in your mouth as you reach for your phone in your back pocket. When the screen lights up, you do a double-take at the contact that reads at the bottom of the device. 

Your first instinct is to throw your phone at the wall (funny, how that’s been your go-to move for the past couple of weeks), but then, you decide against it. Anger is a powerful emotion, and you find yourself rushing out of your bathroom in a fashion that was probably a little too loud to be considered careful. The walls and other familiar surroundings of the place you now call home blur past you as you practically run to Jungwon’s room. Trying to calm yourself down, you nudge the door open and peek your head into the room. Each of the boys are in their beds, but as your eyes find Jungwon, you can tell that he’s moving around too much to truly be asleep.

“Wonnie,” you whisper harshly. Nothing. So you whisper his name again, and again. Thankfully, on the third try, he lifts his head to look over at the door. His eyebrows furrow and the corner of his mouth lifts as a sign of confusion. Doing your best to stay quiet, you push the door open enough to wave him over. You think he grumbles something as he gets out of his bed and makes his way over to you, but you don’t really care.

You hand your phone over to him in an instant.

His eyes widen as he reads the contact. Mum.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” 

You don’t look over at him as the car continues moving down the street. “Me either.”

Your parents were in South Korea. To see you. They hadn’t been in contact since you told them you were joining I-Land. 

The turnaround from that text message and how long they were actually staying in the country was so short that you barely had any time to think about what you wanted to do. Part of you hated them, but the other part was unsure if you would ever get this opportunity again. 

Desperate for advice, two nights ago you and Jungwon had sat in the living room and talked things over until only a few hours were left in the night. You had wanted to involve Sunghoon and Jay as well, but it all just happened so fast. And Jungwon was the only one who knew about your issues with your family. Of course you would fill your boyfriends in with all of the details once this dreaded dinner was over, but for now, you were grateful that Jungwon was there with you.

He had been there for you for weeks, ever since your birthday. Even though you said you would be the one to help him, he was the one who’d actually helped. You wish you could put your gratitude for him into words, but you’d never been the best at explaining things. So you were letting him come with you. 

Your head was a mess and the anxiety in your stomach was even worse. You’d felt nervous over things before, but right now, you just felt sick. A woman’s intuition was never wrong, and yours was screaming at you to ask the staff to turn the car around and take you back home where you could have dinner with your real family. But you were an emotional person, and right now, your longing for approval and the memories from your childhood were trumping that tiny voice in your head that was telling you this was a mistake as the car parks in front of the restaurant. 

You sit there for a moment, silent. 

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” You still don’t look at him. You think you would burst into tears if you did. But your parents were waiting inside and you needed to give him an answer.

“Um. Sure.”

You can feel his eyes on you, the way he’s watching your hand tremble as you reach to open the car door. 

Trying to focus on your five senses instead of the thoughts in your head, you get out of the vehicle: the feeling of the spring night air, the sound of the bustling city, the taste of the blood in your mouth from chewing on your cheek too hard, the smell of the food wafting from the open door, the sight of Jungwon. He looked so strong, so sure as he stood next to you. You wish you could take a page from his book. But that’s what set the two of you apart–his ability to push his emotions down while yours led you to do things that probably wouldn’t help you in the long run.

He looks over at you and when your eyes meet, your heart stops and you feel strangely calm for a moment. You snap out of the daze just as quickly, though. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and tilt your head towards the restaurant, signaling him to follow you. And then your feet are moving towards the entrance. 

The place would be cute if you could actually focus on the design of the interior. You’d never been to this restaurant before, which didn’t surprise you, you couldn’t even begin to guess the number of places to eat in Seoul. But your parents had recommended this place. Probably because they’d eaten here before. Probably because it made them feel more comfortable. You couldn’t feel more out of place though, even as Jungwon reaches down to hold your hand. 

The sight of them sitting at a table knocks the air right out of your lungs, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. 

You watch as they look up and as the sight of recognition takes over their features. Swallowing harshly, you force a small smile as they both grin and rush over to you. Your mum doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug, breaking your hold on Jungwon which makes you panic a little.

“Oh, my baby! I missed you so much!” She pulls back and you can’t help but want to believe her as you take in the sight of her face. She’s barely aged, but you’re significantly taller than her now. The smile on your face feels painful.

“Hi, mama.” Her eyes don’t change as you speak–they’re still crinkled in the corners as she takes in the sight of your face after only seeing it through screens for months. Behind you, Jungwon clears his throat, an effective form of breaking you out of your daze. 

“Oh,” you say softly, moving away from her and reaching for Jungwon. Gently ushering him towards your mother, you watch as he also forces a small smile. “This is Jungwon.”

Your mother’s face hardens at the sight of your group member. “Jungwon-ssi… Nice to meet you,” she says in broken Korean.

“You too, Mrs Aoki.” He’s so polite. The epitome of control despite the way you can see his fists clench as he greets her with a bow. Your mother nods in approval, but you can see the questions behind her eyes. The primary one being: ‘Why is he here?’ Her speculation makes anger simmer in you and to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret, you begin to move towards the table.

“Let’s sit.” The four of you take your spots at the table, drinks already sitting on the surface and you watch as one of the workers comes over to take your orders for what foods you all would want for the grill. Jungwon does a majority of the ordering, you too focused on trying to process everything that’s happening and your parents aren’t exactly fluent in the language you’d begun to use on a daily basis. 

You look over to your father, who’s already sipping on a beer which isn’t a surprise to you. Alcohol tended to put him in a better mood. Which would be especially helpful during heavy conversations just like this upcoming one. “Hi, dad.”

You may take after your mother, but you can see your eyes in his own as he makes eye contact with you, expression unchanged. Then over at Jungwon, then back at you. “What is he doing here?”

“I invited him,” you state the obvious, reaching for your water to try and swallow the lump in your throat. “Thought it might make things a little less awkward.” Jungwon looks at you as you speak, dark brown eyes reading confusion and you try to offer him what’s hopefully a comforting smile. 

“He cannot speak English. Cannot contribute to the conversation.”

“Dad–”

Your mother thankfully intervenes before your father can critique your decision any further, “Chiharu, I thought we agreed that this would be a dinner without conflict.” It was a bit surprising that she was trying to keep the peace. Clearly she had gotten used to standing up to your father during the years you’d been gone. The elder man looks over at Jungwon again before begrudgingly jerking his head in a sharp nod. You let out a breath of relief. Maybe he wasn’t happy that Jungwon was here, but at least now he wasn’t going to throw a fit about it.

Under the table, your hand scrambles to hold onto Jungwon’s, desperate for some kind of comfort despite only having been in your parent’s presence for a minimum of ten minutes. Trying to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath and focus on the feeling of Jungwon’s larger hand surrounding your own. “Speaking of conversations, what’s the point of this sudden meet-up anyway?”

It was unsettling how that smile had yet to falter on your mother’s face.

“We were just in the country and we thought we’d reach out. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, after all.” The frustration in your chest was so overwhelming that you thought you might start crying. How could they come to you like nothing had happened? Like nothing was wrong?

“You were just… in Korea?” You furrow your eyebrows as you look at your mum. Out of the corner of your eye, your dad finishes his drink. “You live in New Zealand. That’s like a 15-hour flight away.” Subconsciously, your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens as your other elbow comes to rest on the table and you lean closer to them. 

The sound of your father’s glass being set on the wood is harsh. “Why can we not come see the country you seem to be so taken with?”

You fight the urge to let out a loud sigh, already on edge from the way your father had treated Jungwon. Not to mention the way they’d treated you and now were acting like nothing had happened. Starting an argument with them was pointless, especially when (as much as you hated to admit it) you’d missed them dearly and they had finally made an effort to reach out to you. 

“Never said you couldn’t, but Dad, it’s not like you to want to travel anywhere other than Napier… Since you and grandma seem to think that everywhere else is dangerous.” The look sent your way from the man is a warning, so you go quiet again as the food is finally brought to the table. Jungwon drops your hand, getting to work on turning on the grill and watching the surface as it begins to heat up. 

“How’s it going?” he whispers to you as you both help the server to place the several dishes of vegetables and meat on the table. 

Your appetite seems to be gone though. What a waste. “Not great,” you mumble back as your mum speaks up again.

“So. YN, tell us how the past few years have been treating you.”

Clenching your jaw, you force a smile, “I can’t say that it’s been easy starting a new life for myself here, but I don’t think I would’ve wanted things any other way–”

“I don’t know why you have to see this music thing through,” she sighs softly, a look of pity in her eyes. “You’re so young. You should come back to New Zealand.”

This. This is what you didn’t miss. 

How they tried to keep you so sheltered from the world and from pursuing what you truly wanted. How they only deemed what they saw fit for you as okay. How they only thought that Napier was the place for you. 

“Can’t do that mum.”

“Oh, sure you can…”

It was getting harder and harder to not speak harshly with her. Sometimes that seemed to be the only way to get things through her head–by being stern with her. It felt like she was the kid, not you sometimes. “No, I can’t. I signed a contract. I’m in a group now.”

“Then terminate the contract.”

“Mum–”

“You should listen to your mother, YN,” your father says, in clear agreement with his wife. “You know, I was reading in the news the other day–”

“Do you both understand that I have a life here now?” The tone of your voice finally has that sting that you’d been holding back, tired of them only thinking of themselves. “That I have people that I love here. And a job. And a home?” They both look at you with curious eyes as Jungwon begins cooking some of the food. 

“You’re seventeen. You know we’re just trying to do what we think is best for you and honestly, YN, you know this music thing won’t work out–”

“God, do you even know me anymore?” You say sharply. You were stupid to think that meeting with them would change anything. They were still too stuck in the past and unwilling to see your point of view to try and make any effort to understand you. “Have you bothered to see what my group has been doing? Because I hate to break it to you because this ‘music thing’ seems to be working out just fine.”

“Of course we know you, YN–” your father starts and that seems to be the final thing to force you over the edge.

“Then where was my birthday message?” Your bottom lip wobbles a little and you realize how loud your voice had gotten. Looking around at the few other customers in the restaurant, you sink back in your seat, lowering your voice to a soft, almost whisper. “My birthday,” you have to take another deep breath to keep your emotions from boiling over even more. “My birthday, and not even then can you guys acknowledge me. Why? Because you don’t like that I’m following my dreams?”

“You know that we do not approve of this decision and we thought that we’d give you another chance to consider things–”

“You don’t approve of it, or he doesn’t approve of it?” Your eyes snap over to your mother, nose crinkling a little like it usually does when you’re angry.

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” your father states, the anger that’s so similar to yours in his own voice. You’re used to the feeling of the tears welling up in your eyes as you’re left in silence again. 

Sniffling softly, you avert your eyes from them. “I don’t want to speak to either of you again unless you actually are ready to listen to me,” you mumble. 

Poor Jungwon has been cooking the food this entire time, maybe taking a few bites now and then as he listened to you and your parents argue. You feel your heart soften as you see the sight of him looking so out of place. You’re sure you look the same. Tangling your fingers through your hair in an attempt to brush it out, you stand. 

“I’m ready to go, Oppa.”

Jungwon looks up at you and when his eyes meet yours, he nods in understanding. Without another word, he’s standing next to you. As you both begin walking away from the table, your parents don’t bother to try and call out to you, which only finalizes it for you. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want a life with them in it right now. Maybe, in a few more years from now, they’d be able to accept you and you wouldn’t be stubborn enough to completely ignore their words, but that time wasn’t now. All you knew was that everything you needed, you already had. That much was clear as you and Jungwon make it back to the car and as he holds you while you sob your heart out for the rest of the way home.

When you arrive back at the dorms you practically run to find Sunghoon and Jay to explain everything that had been happening concerning your family for the past few weeks–the missed birthday, the feeling of homesickness, the failed dinner, and they listen. Held between the two of them in Sunghoon’s bed you’ve never felt safer. And they don’t get angry at you for not telling them or for confiding in Jungwon, they simply show you the love that you need. They accept you for who you are, which is all you’ve ever wanted.

You fall asleep that night being held by them, exhausted from the emotional trainwreck that was your family.

The lights in your room are off as you do your best to put away laundry. 

The sun had barely begun to set outside, but you were still doing your best to try and get ready for bed considering you would have to be up and moving at a little after midnight for the beginning of the pre-recordings for the Drunk-Dazed comeback the next day. Tasks like these helped to calm your mind. They were repetitive and you could control what you were doing. Plus, there was something satisfying about getting things done. It made you feel good to be productive. 

It was like you always had to be moving nowadays anyway. If you sat still or didn’t have anything to keep your hands moving, you would have to start to think about things you didn’t want to think about. Like your parents. Like being an idol. Having doubts was scary and hearing those uncertainties from your parents only made things worse for you. Because now, you were beginning to second guess if this was the right path for you. If you were making a mistake. 

In the glow of a single bedside table salt lamp, you hang up the last of your sweaters. It would be warming up soon outside. You wouldn’t get to wear them as often which kind of upset you–

“Hey.” The familiar timbre of the voice makes your heart race as you look over your shoulder to the door. Jungwon’s standing at the entrance of your bedroom, clad in gray sweatpants and a crew neck with some kind of teddy bear on it. You offer him a closed-lip smile before you go back to finishing up with your laundry. 

“Hi.”

He takes that as a sign to come into the room, shuffling over to your bed before practically throwing himself onto the duvet. One of your Cinnamoroll plushies falls onto the floor and you send him a teasing warning glance. He only chuckles. 

“Pick him back up, please.” The boy on your bed groans, but he complies with your request, reaching for the plushie before setting it next to him against the pillows. 

“I see you’re in cleaning mode.”

You huff softly and close your closet. “It’s relaxing–”

“You’re crazy for saying that,” he pauses as you approach your bed. “Wanna clean my room next?”

Taking one of your pillows, you smack it over his head and he lets out a loud laugh, wrestling the pillow away from you. It’s hard to pretend to be annoyed with him when big eyes are looking up at you, making your heart soften in a way that comes with an emotion you’re too familiar with. One that you still aren’t ready to confront yet.

“You can’t call me crazy and then ask me to clean your room,” you mumble. Jungwon tilts his head a little, the corner of his mouth raising as you continue to grip the pillow. When he tugs it again, you’re falling on the bed next to him, laughing loudly. 

“What if I use my leader voice?”

“Then I’m not going to step in your room for the rest of the year.”

The smile on his face makes a rush of warmth go through you. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Jay-hyung shares that room with me so–”

You smack his chest gently, “Okay, enough.” The two of you laugh quietly again before the room falls into silence. Jungwon’s weight settles onto the bed next to you, moving gently and cautiously as if he’s afraid. Your eyes stay on the ceiling. He lies on his back, his body just inches away from your own, and you feel an almost electric sensation run through you. The heat of his being is so close, the scent of his skin filling your nose, and you can’t help but let out a slow, shaky breath, trying desperately to control your racing thoughts and emotions. 

He hesitates before speaking, “How are you doing?”

The feeling of being at a loss for words around him is one you’re not accustomed to. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Oppa.” It’s like you can almost hear him roll his eyes. When you look over at him, one side of his mouth is lifted into a smirk before it drops down as soon as it appeared.

“With… you know your parents.”

“I feel…” You look back up at the ceiling. “Is it bad that it felt good to yell at them?”

Jungwon sucks in a small breath. “No. I didn’t understand much, but you should’ve done more than just yell at them.”

“Like what? Flip the table?” He laughs.

“No, I mean, not give the time of day to begin with.”

You know he’s probably right, but it was more complicated than that. Your freshly washed bedding is still a little warm under your body. “But you understand why I did.”

“Of course I do.” The weight of his eyes on you is a heavy one, but it’s one that you don’t reject. Just one that you chose to ignore. “I understand you more than you think.”

Your heart feels like it’s beginning to beat out of your chest as you swallow thickly. “Thank you for being there for me,” you pause to try to calm the swirling hurricane that is your mind. “I know you kind of have to be, but–”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” he whispers. “I have to do things for the benefit of everyone else, but I did this for me. Because I wanted to.”

The air in your throat hitches. You don’t look over at him–you can’t. If you did, things would forever be different between the two of you.

Without words, you can tell Jungwon’s thoughts are locked on whether this is right or not: two friends lying in the same bed because yours are too. You’re in a committed relationship with two other men, two other of your bandmates, but the urge to turn and wrap your arms around him is overwhelming. Your knuckles are practically brushing against his as you restrain yourself, and you can feel him clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides with the effort to keep still. The feeling of him looking at you leaves with the sound of his head moving against one of your pillows. So you take the chance to glance at him, your eyes tracing his features, taking in the sight of his resting face just next to you in the low light.

As you both lie there in silence, the urge to touch him becomes nearly unbearable. Jungwon’s hand twitches slightly, and your fingers itch to reach out and touch his skin, but you hold back, knowing you shouldn’t. Knowing that this has already gone too far. You hear him let out a slow, shaky breath of his own, unaware of the way he’s trying to calm the storm of emotions and memories raging inside him. 

You can feel the heat of Jungwon’s skin so close to yours, and with every second it becomes harder and harder to resist the urge to touch him. Your eyes scan his face, taking in every feature, every soft detail, every little imperfection that you find beautiful. It feels like an eternity passes of just you both lying there, listening to each other’s breaths in the quiet of your room before Jungwon finally gives in. Slowly, his hand moves to lace his fingers with yours. 

These hesitances wouldn’t exist if there wasn’t something more than friendship between the two of you.

It’s without saying, you both understand each other. More than you ever had before.

And he stays with you as the sun completely sets, the room falling into darkness. You don’t remember falling asleep next to him, but when you wake up to your alarm later in the night, he’s nowhere to be found.

-

The process of a comeback show is just as (if not more) busy than Enhypen’s debut. Sleep is fought out of your mind by excitement, nervousness, and anticipation, and you can’t find the energy to feel tired. Dark coffee helps, buzzing your neurons back to life, but it also makes your jitters worse, and as you sit in the makeup chair, you have to sit on your hands to stop them from shaking. 

Your members move hastily around you in the process of getting ready as well, staff bustling with a variety of objects. You were thankful for the distraction of the makeup brush on your face. And for Sunghoon’s voice. It was rare for him to talk so freely, even to you, but he must’ve sensed your troubled emotions. You wondered if he would still act like this with you if he knew the things you were contemplating. 

Final touches of glitter are scattered under your eyes before you’re given the go-ahead to relax or do whatever you needed to before you were all needed for the pre-recording. So you stay with Sunghoon.

“I feel greedy,” you mumble quietly as you shuffle over to the couch he’s sitting on and falling into the space next to him. His face shows little emotion as he helps you place your legs over his lap.

“Is this your way of telling me you feel bad for eating the rest of my ice cream?”

“That wasn’t me and you know it.” One of his hands squeezes your thigh in a comforting manner when he doesn’t see you crack a smile at his words. 

“Then what’s going on?”

You purse your lips a little as you try to think of how to word this. “Do you think that I take up too much of everyone’s time?” His eyebrows furrow as you look over at him. “I mean like– sometimes I feel like people drop everything because I’m too dramatic.”

“You’re not dramatic,” Sunghoon pauses and his eyes never leave yours. The sight of his warm brown irises has your heart melting in your chest and you can’t fight the small smile that grows on your face. “Well. Maybe sometimes. But in a cute way, don’t worry I’m not put off by it.”

You laugh softly, smacking his shoulder gently. “I’m serious, Hoon. You would tell me if I was bothering you right?”

He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, bringing your hand closer to his face to kiss the back of your hand in a comforting manner. “I’m serious too. I help you because I love you. We don’t owe each other anything, it’s just… me–and Jay–taking care of you because we want to.” He kisses your hand again. “That’s it.”

Sunghoon’s words manage to soothe some of your worries, but like always, once those little voices in the back of your head start, it’s difficult to get rid of them. Trying to push some of the stress away for the sake of the comeback (and everyone else), you nod. 

“So no pick-me scandals?”

When Sunghoon smiles, his head tilts back a little and you get a clear view of his cute fangs. “I don’t know about that–”

“YN-ssi?” The staff that calls your name from the doorway has little emotion in her voice. All business. Just the way it should be. Resisting the urge to groan from your time with Sunghoon being interrupted, you quickly kiss him before getting up from the couch to look over at her. She’s focused on a clipboard in her hands, scanning the papers thoroughly and she speaks without even glancing at you as you approach her. 

“Do you know a Denise Aoki?”

Your eyebrows furrow as your steps falter. Confusion overpowers anything else you’d been feeling in the past few minutes. “Yes… that’s my mum.” But she wouldn’t be here, you think to yourself, standing awkwardly in the doorway. The staff doesn’t give you any sort of reaction as she looks up at you from her clipboard.

“There’s a woman here with her name requesting to see you.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you doesn’t believe it. Why would your mum come to a comeback show for your group when she’d expressed her dislike for your career so recently? You were too busy to speak with her anyway. At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself as you stare blankly at the woman. 

You’re both silent for a moment before the staff member speaks up, “Do you want me to bring you to her? There’s only about an hour and a half left before you’re due on stage.”

Anxiety rushes through your bloodstream as you debate on what to do. Your family had been kept a secret from fans even with their insane stalking skills, so it wouldn’t be possible for one of them to pretend to be your mother. But why was she here then? It was something you needed to find out for yourself, so in all honesty, it wasn’t even a debate. You nod a little. 

“Just for a moment, if that’s allowed.”

The staff gives you a curt nod of her own before gesturing you to follow her. “I’ll stay with you while you both are visiting for your safety.”

“Thank you,” you say softly as you continue through the hallways of backstage M Countdown. You’re guided into a small meeting room that’s a bit out of the way from the dressing rooms and sure enough, through the door is your mother. She’s not sitting in one of the many chairs surrounding the table in the center of the room, instead, she’s standing there. Knowing your mum, she’d most likely been pacing, hands clutching onto her purse as she waited. You weren’t even sure how she could be back here–security and all. 

You eye her carefully as the staff steps into the room behind you, closing the door. “What’re you doing here?” It’s like she doesn’t know why she’s shown up either, with the way she opens her mouth and then closes it. An exasperated sigh leaves you, “Nothing to say. Can’t even make your own decisions without Dad.”

“YN,” she says weakly. A part of you doesn’t want to hear it, not after she didn’t bother sticking up for you against your father. For the past year, sure, but especially after that dinner. You knew you deserved better than that, but why did it feel like you were glued to your spot? “I’m here because I don’t agree with your father.” Surely you heard her wrong.

“What?”

“You were right,” she says so quietly that you could barely hear her. “At dinner. Everything you said. We don’t know who you are anymore and I hate myself for it.”

No way this was happening. Not now. You had more important things to do than worry about your non-existent relationship with your parents. Like the comeback stage that you were probably supposed to be prepping for right about now. “Don’t say that. Not now. It’s not fair.”

You watch as her face morphs into a pained expression. 

“Mum, you’ve had so many opportunities to try with me and you haven’t!” the cry slips from your mouth before you can stop it. “I’m done giving you chances!”

“YN, this is me trying!” This was too much. Too much to process on a day that was already stressful for different reasons. Too much with all of the other thoughts already spiraling in your head that had to do with the comeback, and the pre-stage nerves, and how Jungwon had looked at you the previous night. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you have to blink harshly to stop them from falling. “I’m here! I’m here, and I’m talking to you and I want to watch you perform–”

“Don’t,” you cut her off. “Not today.” She falls silent and it takes you a moment to realize that she’s actually listening to you. You clear your throat in an attempt to make the lump in it disappear. “If you really want to be a part of my life again, it can’t be today, I have too much– going on.” Your mum nods, a flicker of relief passing over her face. “You can start by calling me instead of showing up out of the blue.”

“Calling you. Okay, I can call you,” she whispers mostly to herself. 

“But this doesn’t mean that you’re forgiven, mum.”

The hope in her eyes dims a little and for a second, you notice how much your eyes have started to look like hers. Maybe not physically, but in the way you expressed emotions. “I know…” The two of you stand there silently for a moment, and you remember that there’s a staff member in the room with you. Not that it made anything more awkward than it already was. She sucks in a small breath before speaking up again, “Can I hug you?”

If you tried to talk, you would probably start crying, so you offer her a small nod. Her arms are around you before you can process it. God, was she this short the last time you hugged her? Your eyes water again at the familiar feeling of being held by her and you sniffle weakly. “Thank you for trying, Mama.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to,” she says and a few tears escape your eyes. Her hands run over your back one more time and her arms tighten before she reluctantly lets you go. With watery eyes, you watch as she glances at the staff waiting by the door. “You should probably get going. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

You shake your head as you dab at your eyes with the heel of your hand. A lame attempt to avoid ruining your makeup. It was probably already ruined anyway. 

“This wasn’t a waste of my time.” The staff member approaches you, carefully reaching out to take your arm.

“They need you for final touch-ups.”

You nod in acknowledgment and take one final look at your mum. Love you, she mouths softly and you needed to get out of that room before you broke down in tears. Thankfully, the staff is quick to lead you back out into the hallway. Thankfully, the space is mostly empty, with only a few stray workers bustling up and down the corridors, too focused on their tasks to pay attention to you. 

By the time you return to Enhypen’s green room, you’ve been able to pull yourself together in terms of crying. The sadness and frustration in your heart had morphed into a sour mood, and with everything moving around you at a fast pace, it didn’t take long for you to become overwhelmed with all of the sounds and bright lights and all of the hands that just wouldn’t stop touching you.

Someone was adjusting your mic pack, another was fixing your eye makeup, and there was another staff fluffing your hair. The feelings were just too much. Instantly, your eyes search for Sunghoon and Jay, but they’re occupied too. Sangmi’s going over the choreography with Sunoo and the lack of comfort you were receiving made your eyes tear up again. It’s not like you were searching for attention, but after everything that's happened with your family and your other relationships this month, you were beginning to regret not sharing your worries and struggles with more people. 

Then you would’ve had a better chance at being able to talk to someone about the unexpected appearance of your mum. Here. At your group’s comeback showcase. 

Jungwon. You needed Jungwon. 

The lace fabric of the tights you were wearing suddenly felt too itchy, the rings on your fingers too tight, the air in your lungs not enough to breathe. Shakily, you push the pair of hands adjusting your mic pack away from you. You didn’t want to be touched, it felt like too much. “Don’t touch me,” you snap. One of the staff’s eyes widens at your sudden comment, drawing her hands away to her sides. Guilt immediately consumes your stomach, but the apology gets caught in your throat as the other two workers remove their hands from you too. 

Next to you, you feel Jake’s eyes catch on you. “You okay, YN-ie?”

No, you were not okay. There were too many people in this room and there were too many thoughts and emotions in your head. 

“I can’t breathe,” you pant softly and Jake’s face enters your vision, his brown eyes filled with concern. His pink lips part and you can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say. 

“YN, what’s wrong?” He asks, hands moving to try and hold your shoulders to stop your trembling. In a panicked fashion, you push him away.

“Don’t touch me!” That came out louder than expected. 

At least some of the loud noises stop as you feel several pairs of eyes turn to you. Being the center of attention only increases your agitation. Fresh air was the only thing that could at least fix your anxiety right now. Then you would try to fix everything else. That was the only thought that helped as you rushed back into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind you. 

You don’t process the sound of the door opening again and footsteps rushing to follow you until there are hands on your arms. Your first instinct is to push the person away, but then your back meets the wall behind you, the front of a body being pressed against yours and surprisingly, the close contact isn’t overwhelming. 

“Close your eyes.” Jake’s grip on you is borderline painful, but the compression is surprisingly relaxing. Like there’s less room for something else to touch you, your anxieties suffocating as he holds you. Quickly, you close your eyes, knowing it’s probably to shield you from any bright lights.

One of his hands takes yours, pressing it against his chest. His heartbeat erupts against your palm, the rate a bit faster than normal, but the steadiness gives you something to focus on. Slowly, the panic and irritation you were feeling begin to seep away into a more relieved state. The air was coming into your lungs easily now. 

“Good. Good job,” he says softly, accent soothing to your ears. “Breathe with me for a second.” Jake’s lungs expand under your hand and you copy the action, sucking in a deep breath. He holds it for a moment before deliberately releasing it. You do the same, through your mouth, and the fogginess in your brain begins to dissipate. You take another breath along with him, eyes fluttering open to find his face close to yours. 

You can’t find it in yourself to care that your noses are almost brushing as the last of your stress calms. Silence grips you for another moment before you nod as a little signal that you’re okay.

“What’re you guys doing?” Jungwon. You’d never heard him this angry before. Hesitantly, you turn your head to look over at him. He’s followed by your manager. God, you hope he wasn’t getting in trouble with the way you’d reacted just moments ago. “The entire show is being held up because of you, YN!”

Jake’s hands tighten on your arms as he stands a little straighter, putting some distance between the two of you. “Jungwon–”

“I was gone for like two seconds,” you grumble, which probably wasn’t the best decision, but you didn’t feel like being scolded now. Especially since you’d just calmed down. “I needed air.”

Jungwon stops in front of you and Jake, and you watch as his eyes size up the way the older boy is holding onto you. His eyes harden a little, but he doesn’t say anything about how you’re practically pinned against the wall now. Jungwon’s eyes look back at you.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, YN-ah.” Your eyebrows raise a little at his comment. Gently, you push Jake away by turning to face Jungwon, crossing your arms over your chest. “You can’t expect everyone to drop everything for you just because you’re feeling a little overwhelmed.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flick over to Jake as he speaks. Your irritation returns tenfold. How could he say that after he’d practically spent this entire month helping you through things with your parents? After you’d trusted him over your own boyfriends to comfort you through such a personal problem?

“You didn’t have a problem dropping everything for me last night?”

“Okay–” Jake starts, only for Jungwon to cut him off.

“Because it’s like you need someone to think for you all of the time!–” A few staff passing by glance at the scene you’re putting on, but you don’t care. Your manager does though, considering the way he moves to stand between you and Jungwon.

“YN-ssi, you need to go back and apologize to the staff as soon as possible,” your manager says firmly. He’s disappointed in you. Your irritation lessens slightly, but you’re still fuming from Jungwon’s words. 

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Fine.”

“Should stop acting so ungrateful too,” Jungwon murmurs and your head snaps over to him. 

“Jungwon-ssi–”

“No, Jungwon, go ahead,” you scoff, sidestepping your manager to look at the boy. There’s a flicker of something you can’t quite identify in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath. 

“You’re going to Jake-hyung for comfort now, too?”

A rush of hurt goes through you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungwon doesn’t say anything, lowering his eyes to the floor. A mix between a laugh and a scoff escapes you. “This isn’t even about me being ‘rude’ to the staff, it’s about me and Jake.”

Jungwon’s head snaps up to look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, only for your group to be called to the stage.

So. You might’ve had a problem with running away when things got to be upsetting for you. You just liked to blame it on the fact that you lived with eight other people and it was rare for you to get your much-needed alone time. As you’ve already established. Along with the fact that you had been doing better. You really had been getting everything back together and then the world just decided to turn against you again. 

Maybe you were just being dramatic. Or maybe, everything Jungwon said about you being ungrateful was right. 

Thankfully, the performances had gone smoothly. You’d apologized to the staff after the recordings had finished and they’d forgiven you easily, being understanding of how you were still new to the industry and therefore having hands constantly on you without warning. Everything had been patched up thanks to your manager. Except for your fight with Jungwon. Talking with Sunghoon and Jay about your mother’s unexpected visit had helped, they’d given you the comfort and love you had needed but you still felt bad about everything said between you and the leader of your group. You were mad at yourself for picking the fight with him in the first place and hurt by the things he’d said.

Being outside and by yourself helped, though. Jake had been able to sneak you out without your manager noticing. He’d claimed it was just because he was there and willing, but you knew it was because he felt guilty about what had happened between you and Jungwon. He was the only one who knew where you were, so he was the only person who could’ve told said leader about how you were taking a walk along the Han River. 

Said leader who was running towards you now. 

Letting out a small huff, you continue your pace, not that Jungwon had any trouble catching up to you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jungwon pants softly. “YN please–”

“Did Jake make you come find me or did you ask him.” You refused to look at him. You’d forgone a jacket tonight, the late April air was more humid than usual which probably meant that it was going to rain soon. 

Your steps fall in time with his like it’s second nature. Out of pettiness, you slow your walk, only for Jungwon to copy the action. “I asked him,” Jungwon says. “Please, YN-ie, I feel horrible–”

“Did you actually mean the things you said earlier?” A couple walking their dog passes by you both. “Those comments weren’t just out of the blue, those were specific things. Like you’d already been thinking about them.” Jungwon doesn’t say anything as you look up at him. That’s all the answer you need. You scoff softly, “Right.”

“I was angry,” Jungwon says slowly like he’s choosing his words carefully. And he should. You felt like slapping him. “It was wrong of me to say those things and I’m sorry.”

The streetlamps lining the path shine brightly in the night, making your eyes water. Or maybe you were just going to start crying again. That’s all it felt like you did these days, cry. You were tired of it. 

“You were acting ungrateful today, but you had your reasons.” He takes a deep breath, “I don’t think you’re an ungrateful person and I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were upset.” That was a little better of an apology. “I just– I was jealous that Jake was the one comforting you.”

“I was looking for you,” you admit quietly. Another beat of silence as you both continue walking at a normal pace now. “You were the one I’d wanted in that moment. I was so overwhelmed and I couldn’t breathe, and I wanted you, but you weren’t there.”

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours and he lets out a small sigh when he sees how yours are watering. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You let him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’ll always be there from now on. Okay?” 

You nod, pressing your cheek against the warmth of his body. “Okay.” Sniffling softly, you speak up again. “And you have no right to be jealous. We’re not dating or anything.” His body stiffens for a split second before he relaxes again. He probably doesn’t think you notice it, but you do.

“I know.” A small raindrop lands on your cheek, but you don’t bother to wipe it away. 

“The reason I was upset was because my mum showed up at the music show.” Jungwon stiffens as he looks down at you.

“That’s allowed?” 

You smile weakly, “I guess so. But I talked to her and she said that she actually wanted to try. Unlike my dad.”

“And you’re going to let her?” You nod. Another raindrop falls. Then another. It was probably going to start pouring soon, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t want to leave this moment. Just you and Jungwon and the river.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw her make such a big decision by herself. It’s always been her following my dad.” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. “I think she really means it this time.”

The sprinkle of rain increases to a drizzle and Jungwon’s arm tightens around you, like he’s trying to shield you from the water. “I’m proud of you, YN-ie. For how you’ve dealt with them and how you’re not forgiving them just like that.”

“They don’t deserve that. Not yet,” you agree. 

Jungwon hums softly. “You can always talk to me about it. You can talk to me about anything.” The rain has steadily increased now, and Jungwon pauses in his tracks, stopping you with him. “Here,” he mumbles, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your head like your hair’s not already wet. Both of you are soaked. Your sweater and his long-sleeved shirt are sopping wet with rainwater, his hair falling over his forehead in dark brown strands. 

You stand there, chest to chest with him as you look into his eyes. They’re so pretty, the dark brown color and the sharp lines that crinkle when he smiles and laughs. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning in closer to him and wrapping your arms around him to hug him. 

“Are we… okay?” He asks, pulling back a little to look down at you, his arms still tight around your waist and you ignore the way it makes your heart race and your skin tingle. 

The corners of your lips turn up in a tiny smile, “I forgive you, Wonnie.”

When the next morning comes, you wake up alone. Which is strange, considering you fell asleep in your bed, cuddled close with Sunghoon and Jay. 

You don’t bother pondering on it for too long, though. This is the best you’ve felt waking up in a long time. A special kind of lightness flutters in your chest. One made up of love and relief. Your relationship with Sunghoon and Jay was thriving, you’d made up with Jungwon, your mum was making an effort to be back in your life, and Enhypen’s first comeback show was successful. Today was going to be a mostly free day too, only a scheduled live and the usual practices. 

Sitting up in your bed, you stretch your arms above your head, cracking your back to get the rest of the sleep out of your spine. Going through your morning routine as usual, you slip out of bed and go straight to your bathroom. Throughout your skincare, and all of the other self-care rituals you were so fond of in the mornings, the good feeling doesn’t go away and you decide to stay in your pajamas for breakfast. 

You exit your bathroom, humming softly to yourself as you hope that everyone stayed away from the cinnamon rolls you’d bought a few days ago. Or at least, that one was left for you to have–

The sight of all eight of your members sitting in the living room startles you slightly. It’s common for the nine of you to spend the majority of your time together but it wasn’t common for them to look so serious.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you enter the living room. “Everything okay?” Heeseung shoots a glare at Jungwon, who grimaces slightly. Then, the eldest motions for you to come sit down too. “You guys are acting weird–”

“Someone saw you and Jungwon last night,” Jay says sharply, his tone harsh. “Pictures are practically everywhere you look.”

Your good mood is gone instantly, all happiness draining from your body and being replaced with a kind of jitteriness that can only be described as nervousness. Were they mad? God, of course they were mad. Sunghoon and Jay– They couldn’t be happy about this. Something like this coming out so soon after a comeback? You were going to be in so much trouble. And Jungwon. The company was going to tear you both apart for this. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart as Jake offers you a weak smile. “A dating scandal, huh,” you realize lamely. 

You were so fucked.

✉️ omg a mari post? it's been like a year, my babies, I've missed you so xx sorry if this is bad, but I'm pretty happy with it. didn't intend for it to be this long, but o well. hope you guys enjoy and I love you <3

[luigibigeater]

running on e / pt. 1

--- luigi breaks into the wrong apartment ---

notes: part 1 of (i think?) 2, finally contributing luigi smut to the site and i'm so excited :). this is very back n forth and all over the place so far so i rly appreciate any feedback, thoughts, requests, etc <3

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone lived here—” is the first and last thing the intruder can utter before the girl takes him out in one clean strike with a kitchen pan. 

When Luigi comes to, his hands are tied securely to the old-fashioned furnace behind him with a pink rope that seems intended for shibari. The initial onset of panic is eclipsed by confusion: the warm weight on his legs is the slumbering body of a plump black cat who seems to have made a home for itself on his lap. A girl sits upon a cushion directly across the room from him with her legs crossed and her eyes closed as if lost in profound meditation. She’s surrounded by dozens of tiny tealight flames, the sole lightsource. 

The room is white and sparse, furnished by no more than a frameless mattress and an overlarge mirror, but it’s warm nonetheless in the buttery candlelight. The rich oriental rug which covers much of the floor is all the color offered by the space. 

Luigi has no fucking idea what to do so he simply sits still, hoping he’ll find some way out of this before the girl’s eyes open. His coat, shoes, and mask are all still on but he can see his backpack discarded in the darkness of the next room and it looks rifled through. The cat stirs at the slightest of his tugs against the binding and it glares at him with its big golden eyes. As if psychically connected to her pet, the girl’s gaze fixes on him not a moment later. They share in a minute or so of silent staring and her expression maintains such unbroken placidity that Luigi can’t repress the nervous chuckle that crackles out of him.

“So,” he begins, swallowing thickly. “What the fuck?”

“You can relax, I’m not calling any cops on you.” The cat resumes its previous position, at ease. 

“So what am I tied up for?”

“Because my home is not a place for men to roam free.”

“Right, okay, that’s fair. And, um—if you were to call the cops—it would be for…breaking in…or?” Luigi tries to tread lightly, tries to keep his face flat and neutral, but he knows how expressive he can be. 

“I know who you are, if that’s what you’re asking. But I won’t call the cops on you for that either.” 

“Thank you,” he exhales shakily, heavily relieved despite the persistent lack of clarity. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Seemed like you really needed a place to stay so I’ve given you one. But I have my rules.” The girl’s eyes narrow at Luigi; he nods with the eager petulance of a child who craves approval while his gaze wanders mischievously down to where her nipples protrude through a snug white tank. She scoffs lightly and closes her eyes once more.

“I’m super grateful for it. Um, your hospitality.” Luigi shifts around, trying to get comfortable despite the rope. The girl ignores him and he chews his lip as he racks his mind for something to say, wondering if this is one of those sticky scenarios he can charm his way out of. Something tells him it’s not. Though physically attractive, there’s an undeniable strangeness about his captor, an almost supernatural quality, as unsettling as it is endearing, and he wonders if he should be more afraid. Some of the candles around her are close enough to singe the bare skin of her legs but she seems unperturbed. 

“Your cat is really sweet,” Luigi tries, pouting beneath his mask in a way girls have called cute before. “Wish I could pet her…”

The girl laughs breathily, eyes still closed in denial of him, as if perceiving his thoughts. And indeed Luigi was trying to convince himself that if she would just look at him, just take down his mask so he could show off his smile, he would get whatever he wanted. 

“So, are you meditating? Cause I love to meditate. But, I mean, my mind can race like crazy when I do it so I have to make up mantras to interrupt my thoughts. Just over and over, anything I can focus on. Usually affirmations, you know, like ‘I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy.’ Sometimes even just one word can do the trick too, of course, like ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“—up! Shut the fuck up!” 

“I’m just trying to center you, trust me, it’ll help. Just listen to my voice: fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Luigi,” the girl groans as she begins moving her candles aside, one by one. His blood cools at the sound of his government name; it’s confirmation that she does indeed know who she is.

“God, Luigi,” the girl crawls across the room toward him with one little flame in hand. His breath intensifies as she grabs his chin roughly, easing his mask down with her fingers, letting them tease open his lips. Brows clenched together, bambi eyes trembling in the weak light, he’s sex personified, and the girl sighs lustily, delighted to find the real man even better than the pictures. Their mutual arousal is tangible at this distance: him at the scent of jasmine in her hair, her at the trickle of partially dried blood at his hairline where the pan made contact. 

“Wh- what are you—” Luigi gasps when the hot wax hits his cheek. “Owwwww, what the fuck?”

“I know what you’re doing, trying to catch me with my guard down, you fuck, fuck, fuck. Not gonna happen.” She crawls away so that he can see her ass peaking out of pajama shorts. He takes the sight in greedily.

“Jesus Christ, I feel like you just jizzed on me. This is so fucking weird,” he keens, trying to rub the wax off onto his shoulder, watching curiously as she goes into her nearly vacant closet. 

“Behave before it gets weirder,” she says as she comes back with fabric balled in her hand. “Oh, and don’t touch the baby.” The girl squats down again to wrench her cat from his lap.

“I didn’t touch anything! The baby touched me,” Luigi taunts, making no effort to conceal what’s now so hard to miss in his pants. 

“She gets it. There’s something very touchable about you,” the girl murmurs, face nuzzled into the fur on her cat’s neck so that all Luigi can see are her eyes. He can’t help the way his cock pulses. She doesn’t miss it.

“Yeah, you look pretty touchable too, like, kinda fucking hot…” Eyes glossy, flushed, they take each other in for a few silent beats that are marked only by the sounds of the city beyond them. 

“Alright, well, I actually need you to shut the fuck up now. I have reading to do, so,” she places her cat aside gently and moves her wadded panties toward his face.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Luigi starts to ramble again, panicking. “Can I please just piss first? Please, please just let me use your toilet real quick and then I promise I’ll follow all your rules. Assuming you have a toilet, I dunno, you don’t have much in here. But you know all about me, right, so you probably know about my back and my fucked up bladder? Please? Please, you don’t want me to ruin your carpet, do you?”

The girl grows visibly annoyed and, again, takes hold of his face harshly so that she can force her makeshift gag into his mouth, finishing it off with a scarf. Her stomach flips at the desperation in his eyes, the pathetic sounds he manages around the fabric, the way his hips jerk. She backs away so she can take it all in.

He doesn’t seem any more or less upset when she retrieves his journal, the one she’d found in his backpack, from under her mattress. She stretches out across her carpet on her stomach to read, not too far from him, her ass arching up and her top plunging to multiply his torture. 

They stay that way for a while, the girl humming occasionally when she likes an idea in his writing, Luigi shifting his legs occasionally in discomfort. “I like your mind,” she tells him. At a certain point, he starts to whimper loudly enough that she loses focus (but never loudly enough for any neighbors to hear). 

“What, Luigi?” The girl huffs, dropping the notebook. His rhythmic noises take on a new quality as if he’s saying please, please, please. Every part of his body absolutely begs for relief: thick brows taut, eyes watery, the curls at his forehead beginning to dampen with sweat, jaw clenching hard around the gag. His hips rock languidly with a fluency that makes the girl ache, her thighs squeezing together.

“The more you do that, the more I want to wreck you. You can just let it out, you know, I obviously don’t give a fuck. Actually, no, I think I’d really, really like to watch you piss right here and embarrass yourself. You deserve it for ruining my night and scaring the fuck out of me. Bet you regret breaking in here now, huh? A grown fucking man with an annoying ass mouth just absolutely degrading himself for me, I think I like that a lot. I wish you’d just fucking do it already, Luigi, just fucking let go for me. And then we’ll see what other disgusting shit I can make you do.”

Luigi cuts her trail of words off with a grunt so depraved that it borders on bestial, jaw so tight that veins are showing, face flushed like he’s excited about this too. The girl laughs with pleasure to see the physical proof that he’s finally given up and given in. She reaches over to free him from the gag.

At first he looks disgusted with her, almost angry, lips furled and swollen, chest heaving. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” She teases, leaning closer to him than she’d ever been. 

“No. You’re fucking insane,” he growls. But as Luigi stares into the girl’s eyes, at the sinister humor in her expression, as he regains his composure, breath evening out, he laughs, slumping with newfound relief. “Fuck.”

“Finally out of things to say?”

Luigi lurches forward, suddenly freed, and grabs the girl's throat with one hand while using the other to pin her arms behind her back. She doesn’t protest, to his surprise, keeping quiet and pliant as he ties her wrists behind her.

“Does that hurt?” He asks, giving the rope one final tug for reassurance. She shakes her head no. Luigi carries her over to her bed like she’s a doll and sits her down on it. He removes his coat, places his journal back in his bag, takes out his gun, fiddles with it, rolls up his sleeves, blows out the candles, turns on the ceiling lamp, paces the room back and forth, gaze shifting between the girl and the floor, the girl and the floor.

“Are you mustering up the courage to kill me?”

“What? No! I’m—” Luigi cuts himself off and squats before her so that their faces are only a few inches apart. “Look, I don’t know what to do. I’m fucking fucked, as you well know, and sooner or later I’ll get caught. I broke in here because I thought this apartment was vacant. It didn’t cross my mind that it might belong to a psychotic minimalist. I need to take a fucking shower because you fucking made me piss myself and I don’t trust you to sit here unsupervised. I also think I want to fuck the shit out of you but I can’t tell if that’d be wrong or not given the dynamic we find ourselves in but, at the same time, I’m not the one who started it…”

The girl stares poutily at him, refusing to answer for a few seconds. 

“Finally out of things to say?” He jeers, mocking her voice by putting on a higher pitch. The girl spits in his eye forcefully and Luigi doesn’t hesitate to slap her so hard that her ears ring. But the way she turns to look back at him, her bottom lip clasped hard between her teeth, gives him all the clarity he needs.

“Get the fuck up,” he barks, tugging her to her feet by the hair. He stands behind her, several inches taller, his front flush against her back, and she watches in the mirror as he bites down on the side of her neck. He glances at their reflection, teeth still busy devastating the sensitive skin, as he shoves her top up to her collarbone with one hand and shoves the other down the front of her shorts, moaning at the sight of it all.

It’s not a shock to him that she’s already wet against his fingers as they go to circle her clit a few times but it racks his body with another pathetically pleasured noise nonetheless. She can feel his chest vibrate with the sound. 

“You know you moan like a bitch,” she simpers, testing him, and it earns her another harsh slap, this time to the ass. Luigi then draws his gun out from where he’d tucked it in the waistband of his pants and slowly raises the barrel to her temple. 

“You like talking like you’re still in charge, huh?” He speaks softly, right up against her ear, and she can’t tell if she’s shaking with fear or arousal. “That’s okay, it’s okay. Daddy’ll show you who’s in charge. Let daddy show you, hm?”

Luigi nudges the cool gun harder into her head as if to remind her that it’s there before momentarily retiring to retrieve a chair from the room over. He forces her to sit facing the mirror, tearing her panties and shorts off in a motion so rough that it leaves scratches, before pressing his face hard between her legs like he wants to disappear there.

Now it’s the girl’s turn to croon her desire. As the night’s events had already proven, Luigi loves heavy eye contact. And that doesn’t change as he licks at her ferally, spits on her already soaked cunt, and nibbles at her clit till she’s writhing. 

“Daddy, daddy,” she chants as he tongue fucks her, shocking herself with her own pliancy. She claws at her own hands bound behind her, wishing she could fist them in the tight coils of his hair. The restraint only doubles her pleasure. “Jesus, fuck, I—”

“Huh? What is it?” He pauses his determined movements to speak, lapping slowly at her while he waits for a reply. She whines in frustration and he smirks while catching his breath. He flutters his lashes up at her, humming, “did you need to tell me something?”

“Just that- if- if you want to make me cum, you should use your fingers,” she manages. He raises his eyebrows (ugh, God, you know what I mean) in a way that makes her stomach ache with want and he has to lean back a bit to dodge her desperate thrusts. 

“Ohhh, that’s what you want. See that’s a good use of your mouth, telling daddy what you want. Not that I’m always gonna give it to you so readily,” he grins as he takes firm hold of one hip to control her stuttering pelvis. 

He pushes inside gently with his middle and ring finger to start, just a knuckle in, and then tastes the slickness greedily on his tongue, adding even more wetness to the mix with his saliva. One cheek resting on her inner thigh, he watches his hand move in and out torturously for a few thrusts before latching his lips hungrily back onto her clit. 

It goes on like that for a bit, Luigi attentive to her body’s responses so that he can nail the rhythm she so badly craves. She stares in awe of him, her moans unrestrained, and she feels her attraction toward him taking on a dangerous edge as it transcends the physical plane. It’s him, fuck, I fucking want him, she whimpers internally. His writing, his wisdom, his brilliance, his sharpness, his cockiness, his humor, his bravery. He’s probably going away for good and this is the only time I’ll know him and here he is eating me out like I’m his final meal on death row…

Luigi’s excitement seems to intensify when he notices her crying and she can’t help but cum without warning the moment he starts humming against her like he’s the one getting head. It’s everything about him that causes her to seize up, thighs squeezing around him, before releasing; it's the sight of him rubbing himself through his pants like a virgin, too excited to practice restraint, and it’s how lost he seems in the act of pleasuring her, despite his insistence that he’s the one in control. 

He doesn’t ask what the motive is behind her tears but he wipes them on the sleeve of his shirt with concerned care, pointlessly so as they have yet to cease flowing. Each time they lock eyes, she suspects he can understand her, and this time is no different. Still on his knees, Luigi presses his head into her stomach so he can reach around and untie her wrists for her. She holds his head there against her torso, sobbing into his curls, grateful she can finally card her hands through them. He draws soothing circles into her thighs, letting himself be held. 

When she finally calms a bit, he pulls back to ask in all seriousness if he’d hurt her. She insists that he hadn’t. She doesn’t tell him how badly it hurts to know that he’ll likely never know freedom again, that this country will make a symbol of his young life, that she’ll probably never see him again. 

“Luigi, I’m sorry,” the girl deftly reaches down his back to snatch his gun and then wrenches his head back by the hair so she can press the barrel just past his lips.

“This is such a stu’id ‘ucking ga’e,” he groans, words partially impeded by the cold steel intrusion. She laughs and he finds himself grinning at the wild contrast between the display of humor and her tragically lovely tear-stained face.

“What game?” This time it’s his turn to get slapped, teeth knocking painfully against the gun.

“You’re ‘ucking crazy…” he musters, moaning uninhibitedly at the contradictory pleasure of being degraded.

[nosyp]

you know in ss1, the player go in pair and play marble again each other in the 4th game? Let put yuu and the twst boy in that situation. Please

First years first :P I'll post the rest later. (Remind me if i don't)

Ace Trappola

Ace is definitely nervous but tries to hide it with his usual cocky attitude, as he usually does. He’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and even in a situation as dire as this, he’d try to keep his confidence up. He might joke around to deflect his fear, acting like he has the situation under control. But deep down, Ace knows how serious this is, and it bothers him that he could lose you.

What Happens: As the game progresses, Ace would likely try to play it smart, using his quick thinking and humor to distract you or throw you off. But as things get heated and you begin to get closer to winning, his facade cracks. If you end up winning, Ace would be shocked and frustrated, but his competitive nature would kick in and he'd actually start trying a bit, but not enough to win. If he somehow wins, he’d probably try to act cool, but you'd sense his relief. Either way, he wouldn’t want to be responsible for your loss, so he’d try to find a way to ensure your survival if he could.

Deuce Spade

Deuce is fiercely loyal and would be devastated by the idea of playing against you. He’s not the type to be manipulative, and the very thought of playing this deadly game against you, someone he cares about deeply, would tear him up inside. He’s not great at hiding his emotions, and that would show through in his reactions during the game.

What Happens: Deuce would probably try to talk his way out of the situation, looking for loopholes in the rules, trying to convince you that there must be a way to survive without playing. If it’s inevitable, he’d give it his best shot, but you can tell he’s uncomfortable. If you win, Deuce might break down emotionally, poor boy would be overwhelmed by the guilt. If he wins, he would feel terrible, likely making an emotional apology and begging you to stay alive as you lay on the ground, blood all over both of you.

Jack Howl

Jack is a bit of a wildcard in this scenario. He’s strong, but his loyalty to you would outweigh his desire to win the game. The thought of betraying you in any way would be inconceivable, and even if he tried to play the game, it would be with the intention of protecting you.

What happens: Jack might try to go along with the game, but he would hold back, not fully engaging in the competitiveness. He’d be subtly looking for ways to sabotage his own chances of winning to ensure you stay alive. If you won, he’d try to hide his relief but would be secretly grateful. If he lost, Jack would never forgive himself, feeling utterly defeated. His protective nature would kick in, and he’d probably do whatever he could to help you survive.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek is the type to be headstrong and always follow orders, and that would apply here as well. He’s fiercely loyal to his friends, especially to Malleus, but when it comes to you, he’s equally protective. Sebek would be frustrated and angry at the unfairness of the game, but he’d be determined to win in order to protect you and make sure you don’t die.

What Happens: Sebek would probably get frustrated with the rules, insisting that there must be a better way to solve this. He wouldn’t want to hurt you, but his competitive nature would push him to do whatever it takes to win. If he loses, he’d be livid and full of regret, blaming himself for letting things get that far. If you win, Sebek would be relieved but very likely to make a big deal about it, demanding that you owe him for saving you.

Epel Felmier

Epel would be upset at the thought of playing a deadly game like this, especially if it means going against you. He’s proud of his strength, but the emotional strain of playing against someone he cares about would weigh heavily on him. He’d try to keep up a strong exterior, but it would be clear that this game is affecting him.

What Happens: Epel would probably try to make light of the situation, joking around to hide his nervousness. However, as the game progresses, his fear and frustration would start to show. If you win, he’d be relieved but probably wouldn’t say much about it, trying to hide his emotions. If he lost, Epel would be hard on himself, feeling like he let you down, even though it wasn’t his fault. He’d likely try to comfort you if you were upset, even though he’d be struggling with his own emotions.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho is paired with you for the marble game. The tension is palpable as the life-or-death stakes hang in the air. Despite being a robot, Ortho is deeply attached to you, making the game particularly difficult for him. His logical mind tries to process the game, but his emotions for you complicate things.

What happens: Ortho starts off trying to stay calm and rational, trying to play the game without hurting you, using his analytical skills to predict outcomes. As the game progresses, Ortho struggles with the idea of possibly having to hurt you to win. His emotions begin to show as he tries to find a way out, offering to lose on purpose or come up with a compromise. If he wins, Ortho feels a mixture of relief and guilt, unsure if he made the right choices during the game. If he loses, Ortho becomes upset with himself, feeling like he failed you, but immediately focuses on making sure you're safe, trying to reassure you despite the storm going on inside him.

[ro-writesstuff]

jealousy, jealousy - matty healy

minors DNI, all my fics are 18+

summary: you don't tell your best friend you're going on a date.

Against your outward disapproval, your friend set you up with a friend of a friend. He was your type: built and tall and handsome, with a hint of mysteriousness to him. 

However that role in your life was already filled. 

You and Matty had been friends for a while. He was always your brother’s friend, though, so you were skeptical of him at first. You’d grown closer over the years, reluctantly in the beginning to be honest, but found Matty to be kind and genuine. Your relationship turned into something more over the past year, however.

Not “more” as in you were dating, or officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but you just got more… comfortable around each other. Certain things he did set off something within you, though like him being a gentleman and walking you to your car, bringing you flowers for different accomplishments, that kind of stuff. Then it escalated to cuddling on the couch, and doing couple-y activities like going to the movies. 

You always pushed away whatever feelings you had of Matty, never truly certain of what they really were. He was just a friend and it stayed that way for years. And that was the problem.

Though it took some convincing from your friend, you decided to meet up with the guy. It was just a date, after all. 

It couldn’t hurt, right?

***

You opened the door to you and your brothers’ apartment with a soft push, hoping your brother was asleep. Your eyes were met with the harsh contrast of the TV against the darkness of the living room, forcing your vision to narrow. The loading screen of some game played silently, characters running amok on the screen. To your luck, you heard George’s familiar, soft snores erupt from the couch as you took a breath to shut the door. 

A figure popped up from the couch, hair messy and curly and gorgeous. Without fail you knew who it was. 

Voice hushed, you greeted him. “Oh hey Matty, I didn’t know-“ 

“Do you know what fucking time it is Y/N?” His voice was gruff and hushed as to not wake your sleeping brother next to him. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. 

“Oh uh,” 

“Where have you been?” It was clear worry and anger was evident in his voice. More so anger.

Jealousy even? Maybe. 

A pang of confusion and fear hit your chest. He’s never talked to you this way, and it started to freak you out.

You responded slowly, gauging him, “On a date.” 

A date. A date? You told him everything, why not this? To be honest, he came over to George’s to of course see his mate, but to get a glimpse of you as well. He’d been having a rough day, and he knew the best medicine was the mix of you both. So, when that didn’t happen he was much more agitated than he was earlier. 

His chest tightened as he was trying to keep himself calm. “Okay. Now exactly where were you,” he stepped closer, and you could smell his cologne; the one that normally smells sweet but has worn off with the hint of cigarettes. 

He’d been acting like he wasn’t just checking your location for the last hour trying to find out where you were, and the maps app didn’t know either; just somewhere twenty five minutes away. 

“At his apartment.” 

Damn it. 

He knew he was being paranoid, but hundreds of scenarios swam in his head. What if he was just charming enough to make you think he was the one when all he really wanted was sex? What if he was the kind of guy to kick you out of his apartment in the middle of the night and left you all alone? What if he was some deranged serial killer that could have hurt you? 

You’re the one and only thing he truly cares for. And the thought of you and some fucking guy started to make his blood boil. No one was supposed to take you from him. You were his. 

He was seething. “Fuck, Y/N. Seriously? He could’ve killed you!” 

Your brother stirred on the couch, a good reminder to you both to keep your voices hushed. 

“It was just a date, why do you care?”

He felt the tightness again in his chest, as well as a familiar feeling he had been trying to figure out for years. Last time, “just a date” turned into a serious boyfriend, who inevitably broke your heart, leaving Matty to piece it back together just to see you run off to another guy to try and forget him. 

Matty had been waiting ages to tell you that he’d fancied you. Constantly promising himself that he’d never let his emotions get in the way of your friendship; he was a big boy, he could handle that. Matty simply wanted whatever you did, even if it meant you kissing and loving someone else. 

He couldn’t let you know it bothered him this much, though. Not like this. 

Defeated, he sighs, dropping his volume. “It’s just late, and you know I worry. Just, uh, just, glad you’re home safe.” Once again he plopped down on your couch, remnants of a glum expression on his face as his thumb slid over hitting the ‘play’ button as cartoon characters silently cheered across the screen, distracting him from the overwhelming urge to say those three little words. 

You scoffed, trotting to your room, annoyed at his actions. He bugged you more than words can describe sometimes. 

*** 

Repeated buzzes on your nightstand awoke you from sleep. 12 messages from your friends’ group text, probably asking you how your date went, along with a text each from George, your mum, and Matty. You clicked Matty’s first, anticipating a small apology and an emoji. 

Be careful when you open your door, love. Don’t crush anything. 

Confused, you throw the sheets off you, cracking open your door seeing a Tesco bag and wrappers of your favorite candy peeking out of it, alongside beautiful daisies wrapped in plastic with a note on top of them. Picking them up, you sat them on your bed as you read the sloppy handwriting. 

Sorry bout last night. Hope it didn’t spoil your evening. Take these as a sign of my utmost gratitude you didn’t curse me out xx

You chuckle at the last bit, bringing the daisies to your kitchen to find a vase for them, as you were met by the man who wrote you the note. He shot you a grin like he always did, the one that made you feel so much in a span of seconds. 

Your heart fluttered. “Morning.” 

Matty loved the look of the flowers in your hand. His flowers. He wished it wasn’t under the circumstances, of course, but he imagined you holding the ones he’d give you for your birthday, an anniversary, something. He shakes away the silly daydream as you reach for the cabinet knob where you stored the glass vases. 

Just as Matty was going to ramble out an apology, George’s voice sneaked up from behind him. 

“What are those?” 

You reckon he didn’t tell George. 

“Oh, um. They’re from my date last night,” you lied quickly.   

Matty could feel the jealousy start to grow in his chest at just the thought of you getting flowers from anyone else but him. Although he’d only seen you a handful of times in the morning, it was a sight he’d always been happy to wake up to. The morning light always caught your features perfectly, highlighting all of his favorite things about you. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot. They’re pretty huh, Matty?” He said, nudging his friend. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. 

Really pretty.

[hey-august]

Putting Buggy in my favorite tired old romcom trope and imagining him trying to set up a „perfect“ date where he tries his best to come across as a well mannered, bright, conventionally handsome gentleman, because he thinks that’s what YOU would want him to be. He knows he scored this date out of pity, but once he’s done with this evening, you’ll see him as more than a joke of a man, he can do it!

Cue slapstick scenarios en masse, causing him to loose his temper at least once, trying to impress you with a fact that YOU correct him on and that’s just so obviously wrong and an accident that leaves him with only half an eyebrow, singed tips and the wax nose (ESSENTIAL TO HIS PLAN! If he could get rid of that eyesore in the middle of his face he may have had at least a snowball chance in hell with you) to finally abandon ship and melt right of his face.

And you’re enjoying yourself tremendously. You had your doubts when Buggy came in looking so unlike himself, trying to be something he’s not, but now? After all that chaos and one candle accident later? Now that you’re sharing the bottle of wine he snagged before hauling out of the fancy place he tried to wine and dine you at, sitting on the beach laughing about everything and nothing? Perfect date. Would do again. You absolutely love that clown shit.

ADORABLE. PRECIOUS. LOVELY.

LET'S EXPLORE THIS CONCEPT SOME MORE, ANON.

WC: ~800 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, some profanity, drinking, that's about it

Of course it’s a pity date - that’s the only reason you agreed so readily. It’s definitely not because Buggy blurted out the question before you had a chance to ask him on a date. And the way you choked on your drink? That had to be because you thought it was a joke. Not because you were surprised and excited.

Let’s not talk about everything leading up to the date itself. Like how all his “good” shirts were dirty or wrinkled. One smelled like old hot dogs. So he had to borrow a shirt and it was fine. Kind of plain, though. Not flashy. Plain white cotton, but at least it fit.

And his hair. A low ponytail would suit the occasion. Hopefully you wouldn’t notice his greasy roots. Buggy ran out of time to wash his hair because of everything else he was working on. Mainly the nose. He sculpted it out of wax and it looked… It would probably look alright during a candlelit dinner.

Buggy just needed to get through the dinner, prove himself as a decent guy, score a second date, maybe a kiss or two, and that’s all. Not too much to ask for, right?

Well…he forgot to bring you flowers. He showed up empty handed (except for the sweat collecting in his palms). You didn’t say anything, but he’s certain you noticed and were adding it to The List of Failures. And that’s only the start of his panicking.

Next, Buggy demanded a table. That table. Yeah, the one that is already occupied. Fine, okay, this table is alright. He wanted the darker corner since it was more intimate (not so he could hide his nose or the sweat stains in his pits), but whatever. 

Then he demanded the good wine. The real shit, not that cheap boxed shit. And he can tell the difference! Which is true, Buggy is a boxed wine connoisseur. Well…here’s the thing. Smell and taste are tied together, and that wax nose was more decorational than practical. Some words were had over the wine, before the sommelier brought over a dusty unopened bottle for Buggy to inspect and give gruff approval for.

You tried to interrupt and say the other wine was just as good (and far less expensive), but Buggy was too eager to please and too nervous to back down. 

The rest happened in a blur. Buggy doesn’t remember much. He might have talked over the waiter explaining the day’s specials. He definitely kicked the table a few times while trying to sit comfortably. Maybe he laughed a little too loudly and another table told him to be quiet. And maybe he threw a bread roll at that table.

Buggy definitely remembers knocking over your glass of water, though. It was an accident. He was reaching for your hand for some dumb reason and your drink got in the way. Of course he wanted to help, so he leapt out of his chair, kicking the table yet again, and pretty much threw his napkin at you.

And in this chaos, he must have leaned over the table too long. Over the tealight. Even though it was a small candle, and it was only a few seconds, his glob of wax was ready to make a grand exit. It was already barely clinging to his sweaty oily skin, and this was the right time to just -PLOP- right into a puddle of water on the table.

But here’s the thing that you’ll take to your grave. Seeing Buggy hunched over the messed up tablescape, hands over his face, and looking downright mortified and murderous - well, it made your heart pitter-patter.

Buggy looked like himself, for the first time that night. That “nose” was not really your preference, so hiding the middle of his face from view reminded you of how much you were crushing on the cute clown.

Dinner was over at this point. Staff was walking over, the table with an extra roll was also shouting for Buggy to be ejected, there was broken glass on the table. It was time to go.

Ending the night on the seashore was a much better way to spend your first date with Buggy. He had pulled out his red nose from a pocket so he could actually enjoy the wine. Surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste any better and he lamented not throwing it at the sommelier before leaving.

You’re glad he didn’t though. Because then you wouldn’t get to watch him drink from the bottle under the moonlight. His adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. Drops of liquid escaping from the corners of his lips and starting a journey down. That white shirt was now unbuttoned (so his armpits to dry out) and rolled at the sleeves. 

And, well - damn.

Buggy was definitely getting a second date and a few kisses. Maybe something a little extra for dessert.

[smytherines]

I think I never got to ask you more about spyverance au, so any headcanons you want to share? 👀👀👀

Ooohhhhh yes spyverance headcanons!!

This isn't super spoiler heavy I guess, but if anyone has an interest in watching Severance you should definitely do that first, because otherwise most of this probably won't make sense:

So. Spyverance.

I mean God. The mental image of Curt crying in his car every morning before going into his new severed job at Chimera has not left my mind since I watched the show

I know I said something about their severed selves being spies, but that poses some narrative issues I haven't figured out yet, so this is all just assuming that it's Lumon but it's called Chimera. The same setup as the show.

outie!Curt definitely keeps a flask in his little personal effects drawer. And assuming it's an 8 hour day, he drinks as much as he can before he gets into the building, and after maybe an hour or two of work innie!Curt would start to feel sick. Hungover at the very least (which he has no frame of reference for) because the alcohol has worn off, gradually feeling the physical symptoms of withdrawal more and more by the end of the day. By the time he gets in the elevator to go home he is shaking and sweating, and as soon as outie!Curt gets off the elevator he reaches for his flask

We don't know what exactly happens on the testing floor yet, but I think some sort of "factory reset" for stubborn innies is a strong guess

I said this before, but it bears repeating that even though outie!Curt is desperate to erase his memories and not have to experience half his days, innie!Curt is still Curt. He's stubborn, he's impulsive, he hates being caged up in the same boring room doing the same boring job. He would definitely cause problems and end up getting sent to the break room, possibly even the testing floor, until he cooperates

So Curt goes through about a year of that, while Owen is still strictly outside recovering from his injuries, building up relationships in Chimera, building power. Maybe Owen wants to be able to forget some of the time, or maybe Chimera needs one of their own on the severed floor for whatever reason, or a little bit of both, but eventually he wakes up on the table, and Curt is giving him that little entrance quiz

I think Owen would respond the same way Helly did. Trying to attack his way out, and when that fails I could very much see him waging war on his outie self the same way Helly does.

The same way that innie!Curt has always been drunk, hungover, or in withdrawal, and just believes that is everybody's baseline, innie!Owen has always been in pain. I keep imagining him with a prosthetic leg from the fall. His shoulder and chest are constantly pinching and sore and itchy. At some point he lifts up his pant leg for whatever reason and realizes that he is missing a leg. He panics, like fully has a ptsd crisis, but of course he has no idea how that happened or what it means that everyone else appears to have two legs and Owen only has one.

I imagine a scenario where Curt accidentally runs into Owen and spills coffee on him or something. They go into the bathroom attempting to clean him up, and there's a moment when they get too close and all that sexual tension stirs up. But when Owen takes his shirt off to scrub at the stain they both see the massive burn all over his shoulder and chest, which kinda kills the mood.

And Curt, after all his time in the break room and on the testing floor, uses this to say something like "clearly something happened to your outie, so maybe it's better for you if you don't remember it."

And it sorta works, in that Owen stops trying to escape for a little while. Stops trying to injure or threaten his outie self. But beyond the physical issues he has from the fall, there's also emotional and mental issues that he has no context for. He might not be able to remember the incident, but his body and his mind still do. So I imagine outie!Owen starts panicking every time he gets in the elevator to go down to the severed floor, because he remembers being trapped and injured and helpless in a Russian prison cell before Chimera came along and offered him a way out. And by the time innie!Owen gets off the elevator he is shaking, but has no idea why. That due to the head injury he has seemingly random vertigo attacks. Sometimes he feels fine, but tiny things will trigger intense paranoia or explosive anger or panic, like he's sharing his mind with some strange feral animal. And it terrifies him.

I could very much see outie!Owen giving the "I am a person. You are not." speech. Thinking of his innie as a thing, a tool to be used to further his plans. And I think, in a way, he would also resent his innie for being able to forget the incident that outie!Owen cannot stop fixating on. He would resent his innie for getting to move on, to work without all those mental burdens when he cannot.

God I have so many thoughts on both of them and how they would manage all of this, but I want to get to the overtime contingency so I'm gonna move on

I still love the idea of Tatiana as our Petey. So let's say she joins up with Chimera and takes a severed job on the condition that her family will finally be safe. Maybe she's there for a year or so before Curt shows up. She and Curt build a close friendship on the severed floor, and then Tatiana ends up reintegrating and leaving (which is when Owen shows up)

I don't want Tatiana to die, so let's say she has a less disastrous reintegration than Petey does, but I do still love the idea of her occasionally becoming mentally unstuck in time. Not just not being able to tell severed vs unsevered time, but maybe also sometimes reliving parts of her extremely traumatic childhood.

Tatiana reaches out to outie!Curt, she wants to save her friend, but she struggles significantly with the reintegration process so it's easy for Curt to initially dismiss her as crazy. And even though Tatiana is saying things he absolutely does not want to hear, because to him severance is how he has survived Owen's death, he's still curious. He starts gradually asking questions.

Tatiana is hiding out in Curt's basement, because Chimera is hunting her down, and eventually Curt starts to open up to her about why he took a severed job. Explains his relationship with Owen and their work and his own feelings of guilt and shame. They start to become friends again on the outside.

Somehow the innies are able to trigger the overtime contingency (I still have to figure out who else is in the Chimera MDR department), and innie!Curt and innie!Owen are able to experience the outside world.

Owen couldn't be the public face of severance the way Helena is, because then Curt would know he's alive, so instead innie!Owen wakes up in an apartment. It's well-decorated and luxurious (Chimera took care of that) but he is frantically scrambling to find any clues about his outie, and there is nothing personal. No family photos, no keepsakes, no sign of any personal life at all. Just a lot of weapons, and a lot of paperwork that he can't parse (although curiously it all has the Chimera logo on it).

There's a knock at the door, and some Chimera underling has been sent to give him a reminder of some Chimera thing, a meeting or gala or whatever, happening soon. And the underling is trying to score points by praising whatever outie!Owen has been up to while working with Chimera.

innie!Owen is still kinda dazed, he's skimming through his outie's closet still trying to figure out who this guy is. The underling says something that makes it clear that Owen isn't just some guy who took a severed job-- he's part of Chimera. He has power over the program. He didn't build the system that has been slowly eating away at innie!Owen, but he maintains it. Finds new cruelties for it. And the moment he has that realization, he sticks his hands into the pocket of one of his jackets, and pulls out a picture of him with his arm around Curt (in my head it's that Szol Christmas postcard tbh). And that's the last thing he sees before he gets cut off.

innie!Curt wakes up in his house. I like to imagine that instead of Ricken's terrible book, Curt finds a spy novel someone left behind. He hides it and reads it over and over again, not knowing why he's so fascinated with it. So innie!Curt finds a few pictures of he and his mother, some personal effects he has no context for, but the spy novel taught him that sometimes people hide things in interesting places, so he starts knocking on baseboards and wiggling loose bricks, trying to see if he has any secrets stashed away.

Eventually he finds a stash of letters, pictures of him and Owen, all the ephemera of a relationship. And not really thinking about why those would be hidden, he thinks that he and Owen must know each other out here, that they have a relationship on the outside. So he starts calling for Owen through the house, except obviously Owen is not there. But Tatiana is, still hiding out in Curt's basement to avoid detection from Chimera.

Tatiana comes upstairs to figure out what all the fuss is about, and innie!Curt sees his beloved friend-- someone he never thought he'd see again-- and crushes her in a hug. He explains that he's the innie right now, and Tatiana tries to figure out what they should do with that information, how they can use it. But as she's sort of thinking out loud about it, Curt asks "where's Owen? He needs to be here for this."

Tatiana looks confused at him, and says, "he's dead, Curt. He's been dead for over a year now."

And at first she thinks that Curt just doesn't want to accept it, but then his eyes go wide and he just quietly says "Owen is alive down there." And then he gets cut off too.

I could genuinely talk about this forever because there are so many interesting thoughts, like:

-- if this is a technologically advanced 1950s, how different would innie curtwen be with each other if they have no concept of homophobia?? No idea that the attraction they feel is not socially acceptable. Sure, innies aren't supposed to fraternize, but that's different than growing up in a culture where your sexuality is openly regarded as a crime and a perversion. I lean towards a technologically advanced 1950s because I like the idea of their pre-canon relationship being the same, and all this taking place in Severance's ambiguous near-future where a man can be married to a man would fundamentally change their pre-canon relationship

-- Cynthia Houston in the Harmony Cobel role? Being cold and distant and shitty and work-obsessed, yet having an odd attachment to Curt for whatever reason

-- I like the idea of Barb and Tatiana having a sorta Burt and Irving dynamic, maybe with Barb working in a different severed department. But I also think Barb would be fascinating in a Mr. Milchick role too. Being sickly saccharine, with that constant unnerving threat of violence. Using the break room and testing floor as her own personal science experiments (oh Barb Larvernor, you have such potential as a fucked up little evil scientist). If it's not Barb, the Milchick role is played by Brian Rosenthal in my head

Okay okay, this is like 80 paragraphs so I'm gonna stop now. But yeah. Thinking about spyverance a lot lately

[leandra-kinard]

Seeing a lot of Teddie (Eddie/Tommy) on the Tommy Kinard tag, and I just want to say.

Excellent. I don't ship it at all, like not even an atom, but I stan the multishipping energy. Let's be honest, that 100% exclusive 'Buddie supremacy' wasn't really healthy for a fandom.

Let's enjoy canon for what it is and gives us, and let's use and enjoy fanon and fandom the way it's supposed to be - with a larger or smaller corner for everyone and every ship where we can all just vibe with or parallel to each other without being toxic about it and sliding into ship wars.

[beetlethebug]

consider,,,a lucanis who is in love with emmrich, a spite who is in love with rook, a rook in love with emmrich, and emmrich who is in love with all three but wants lucanis, spite, and rook to get together because he feels he is not the type of man any of them deserve...

bonus points for spite being the one to realize just what sort of love quadrilateral is going on and is the one to get them all together.

[mallleus]

No one judge or hate me for what I’m about to say.

When I’m reading One piece fan fiction/headcannons about Zoro and they say he’s a bad dad or hates kids, I immediately stop reading and move on to the next fic/headcanon because I remember the water 7 filler arc and how he (begrudgingly yet caring) took care of the baby triplets and children when the big brother role was forced onto him. Like Zoro? Hating kids?

For me it’s a bad take but whatever you do you 🤷🏻‍♀️

Edit: “ You three sleep quietly now :) “

[laika-of-the-stars]

that scene with cyn/the solver and uzi at the very end where the solver/cyn is still a part of uzi.... so OSSDID/System coded fr fr.... im going insane abt it. im so autistical abt this

please please PLEASE send me asks abt this i am so eager to talk to ppl abt it

(rambles in tags)

[izvmimi]

one of the best part of online friendships being mostly written is the fact that you can dig through stuff you discussed a year plus ago or selfship scenarios and truly laugh like it’s the very first time

[unproduciblesmackdown]

further thoughts re: [idea behind mitb] & [winston billions]

that ofc the specific situation of mitb of even being so thrown into a seismic shift in perspective in this moment, brought on by like whoa what if actually being alone / rejected by the person who was always on my side, like winston in canon can't ever be in that position lmao like even with the continual [people turn on him] moments, nobody was ever actually on his side in the first place & people only Turn from [less of negative attention upon him] to [more]

But then pointing to like wait, one thing, the very ending: all you know about me is my name / awesome party, i'm so glad i came [cha cha cha] like assign that to winston's departure from straightforward in-office employee with the fun details of: • we don't even know his name, rare No Last Name Ever Bothered With for any recurring character, much less one who's been around for seasons. just quant things • probably only any party b/c he arranged it for himself (what arrogance, as opposed to being pointedly ignored / denied baseline acknowledgments as deserved) & • nonzero people pointedly refusing to attend b/c they hate him more than anything, as opposed to the people who do attend to express hostility & contempt as per the I'm The Ultra Cool Guy Normal Person(tm) ideal of "if i interact with / observe someone & consider them such a Lesser / Other to me & issue whatever disparaging cues, any third parties would totally recognize my superiority" uhh nnnyeThis guy, umm ohh kayyy lol. scoff sneer etc. Extremely epic yes

also shoutout to billions for both Needing to show us that "uh lol winston can't just Get to Leave" expression of contempt / vicarious power trip But also that's not enough lmfao like he really can't get to leave, casting its yugioh card of "essence of [most dangerous time in an abusive relationship? trying to leave it]" like again, You Don't Get To, then Uh Oh winston in leaving is not only acting without permission but in doing so is denying us our property! time for some assaulting & stalking & killing :) figuratively we swear but who would know what nonexistent mitb happens :)) wheee haha Hell yeah so affirmed & fulfilled in our power & superiority. wretchedly like why is this also what happens with wendy & axe at the end of s5 as axe resents wendy not acting like his property / without his permission & gets vindictive & aggressive & it's like okay well with the stalking & surveilling in the mix i'm sure wendy will now finally get to be Done. wrong! reveling in romance (dragged over glass) as wendy is sooo special that she can still just Understand & Choose Loyalty even as unideal as axe was, truly, she's powerful enough to handle axe :) unlike other bitches who'd get all hysterical & give up. selfish

also speaking of the "you have to pay attention & listen to how this guy feels for 5 minutes" like with pointed [my personal perspective & considering Just Like Real Life] i don't like, especially with canon, really have that for winston in terms of like that even if people Had to listen, which would be the only way they did b/c winston Does express how he feels at all & it gets pointedly ignored / suppressed / punished, like they wouldn't change their perspective lol. when i consider "well winston could hope they would, think they might, want & try for this" like i don't consider that it would work lol, definitely not based on canon dynamics, where Just Like The Perspective Of The Show Itself like winston can seize some opportunity & express himself "perfectly" but it wouldn't work b/c everyone's already decided to think of him as inferior & not a person & will continue choosing to do so / choosing to play into the idea of their superiority rather than letting it be threatened, much less embracing that & questioning themselves / that concept. Oops Same Essence once again when like all that's questioned about Power is that only Meritous, Truly benevolent godlike individuals ought to have it :) no problems detected when wendy is really exactly the same as prince b/c of course she'd have to be when it's just "nothing wrong with seeing people as inferior, in fact it's inevitable & necessary & good & we love it, just so long as Really superior people are correctly arranged in the hierarchy over Really inferior 'people' who i'm not really hurting or wronging or using when they bring it upon themselves & are wrong in their lesserness"

so like shoutout again to "billions is like, the song 'be more chill' in be more chill, seeing the squip as the protagonist like yes wheee yay tell jeremy everyone's right to treat him as they do & he brings it upon himself & should be dead & twist his arm however you want to get this" only i think in bmc you can interpret that the squip really does want to "redeem" jeremy by forcing him to become a different person & all & just conform to the norm & play & win the game....billions might Supposedly want that, framing wendy using & toying with other people's lives & feelings as she sees fit as Necessary, Correct, & Magnanimous, but really like oh no wendy doesn't even really "fix" people b/c welp there's still the hierarchy of ranking on everyone's Inherent unequal personhood & we can't all be the most special best person in the world like wendy but she can Redeem us a little bit if we're not the lost causes too inferior to recognize & defer to Her superiority. plus she's busy with the enrichingly complicated & important cases of: enabling someone like axe :) like billions is just into the power trip really of like "wow yeah you're correct in judging that person as inferior & bringing it upon themself" & "really" fixing someone by killing them & replacing them with an allistic person e.g. isn't actually of that much interest b/c then the power trip would, theoretically, be done with. no thanks

meanwhile perhaps some restraint for this last point brought on by Oops already verbalizing a lot but the one thing i did only just think of was like, obviously winston comparable to jeremy & the material surrounding jeremy But i was like oh hey i kind of think of the winston & tuk dynamic as glimpsed in canon & extrapolated upon thusly as respectively michael & jeremy esque & sure never framed it that way to myself lol. this duo of like the ultimate losers around but who can kind of obviously also bond / deliberately unionize over this; winston as the "well they'll treat me like this either way so i may as well do my own thing fully at least" more confident one while tuk is similar enough & it's like oh i can be not just myself but More myself with this person than maybe i even am Alone alone & we like each other & have fun & i'm encouraged &c & so on, being a bit more "ah jeez :( i do kind of try to see if i can manage to play by the rules better & maybe be killed less," & even sure have thought about the conflicts that could arise as like "yeah it's good if winston being around me can kind of insulate me & involve encouragement But Then Also downsides like, can it feel overbearing if just feeling eclipsed by winston's personality, if feeling like yeah following winston's lead helps me but what if that defines me too much / what about getting by outside that, can encouragement from that Confident Vivacious personality feel pushy?" all very much like that conflict jeremy & michael have of jeremy wanting to change things up & figure out his relationship with himself & what he can do through that a little bit more, hardly able to express that to himself much less michael, michael who doesn't know quite what's going on & but of course is also affected by how people treat him, as we did know but yknow impossible to have real serious feelings & act vivacious & cheerful, & feels supported by his relationship / dynamic w/jeremy too....wouldn't be the same b/c there's no high school scifi plot & also like, no [um frivolous teen problems are for teens only. adults don't do the bullying & popularity & insecurity &c] as has been said lol like it doesn't just Stop, but that like they Are older so probably could have an at all easier & more successful time talking through things & understanding their own feelings, but always fun to imagine some drama & conflict sure lol like even just a period of some Confusion / Mixed Feelings like ah new good friends with tuk but maybe tuk withdraws / avoids winston a bit then to try to take a breath & get perspective from a step back, maybe it can seem to winston like we're having a good time what a promising new relationship but then sudden/confusing irritation with me / some apparent rejection, an easy issue is just like as seems to be canon lol like well nobody's known winston for eons here, just met, winston's Already got the independently big personality / doing his own things mode, could be hard to warm up to that / even Understand it, especially in [hierarchy play the game kill each other it's them or you] bullying world anyway. however also tuk has ben who is also sort of relatively on the Less outwardly bold seeming side who is also there to buffer or insulate or intervene, But that can also just be [same issue parallel to jeremy/michael] lmao like does it mitigate it or exacerbate it or bit of both / varyingly, depending. do we all kiss at the same time

[skrunksthatwunk]

kinda drives me up a wall when people go "hey i think x action in a war/combat scenario is inhumane and cruel and shitty" and someone responds with "oh but within the laws of war it's allowed or there's procedure for it etc etc". it doesn't have to be a war crime to be unforgivable man it's a shitty rulebook anyway

[butchlifeguard]

something i was thinking about on stand yesterday.. danganronpa shsl lifeguard who tries to save a dying person they find, bonus points if they dont come clean about it at first because they think they actually killed that person with their efforts

[invinciblerodent]

I know it's not really a popular interpretation that's gonna win me a bunch of brownie points (from what I've seen many seem to like him more as a tortured romantic or a "crouching grouch, hidden softie"), but I personally am growing to really like characterizing Astarion as a... a weird, selfish, jealous little chaos gremlin that, while he of course has his reasons, is just kind of a crappy person, even when he's in love.

Like I can fully see him as someone who, as time passes between the first proposition and the commitment scene (and you're still not throwing yourself at his feet, blubbering and sobbing about how much you love him????? the audacity??????), starts to get annoyed at you every time you talk to someone a bit too long for his liking. Like I have a veritable plethora of shots of the amazing stankfaces and unimpressed scowls he makes over my girl's shoulder (I know it's probably because he's the second in the party lineup, but in-fiction it's still funny), and some of the stills I grabbed from his comment on fixing -and hugging- Karlach are... actually kind of incredible.

Like, if I presented to you with this screenshot:

and told you this is one of the faces he makes when he says "So, the untouchable Karlach is untouchable no more"? You'd probably assume that he's furious about it for some reason.

And there is a part of me kind of thinks he is, at least in a way, furious, because it takes him a few frames to compose himself, and put his pleasant smile back on:

-which is something I saw him do before. Making a very obviously blank/angry/sad face, taking a moment, and putting on a charming face right away. It's not new, really.

These three shots above were taken over the course of like 2 seconds, tops. It's a very subtle, "blink and you miss it" type of thing, but that's.... honestly all I need to think that Karlach suddenly being an actual option to you (in his weird, at this point in time very "physicality first" POV) is pissing him the fuck off. Like you doing that for her, collecting and lugging scrap metal around, and seeking out Dammon, means that you care for Karlach in some way. Which, then, makes her an opponent in his vying to be the sole recipient of your attention, and he won't suffer even an unknowing adversary. (And in my case, the object of his slowly blooming affections even hugged Karlach! Like right in front of his face!! What arrogance!!!!!! That's just rude, frankly!!!!!!)

I totally can imagine him being the type of person who, before starting a relationship, would use his lack of a need for rest to snoop through your belongings.

As someone who would casually violate your (and others') privacy in little ways, while holding his own sacred.

As someone who'd spy on your interactions with all the other companions from a crack in his tent's opening, and grip his bedroll in anger watching you dance with Wyll ("don't kiss him, don't kiss him, please don't kiss him, if you kiss him I'm fucked"), or steal your journal and get actually mad at you and be unreasonably acerbic to you the next day if it's in a language he doesn't understand.

This kind of also extends to me kind of imagining him as a boyfriend who, once he gets a bit more comfortable with physical affection, will just casually step up to you, and drape an arm around your waist or shoulders while you're talking to someone, to signal almost a sort of ownership. Someone who will make goading faces at anyone who dares look at you too long, or pull you against him in a brazen display if he catches someone checking you out. Like he'd piss on your leg to mark his territory if he could, but he'll settle for leaving a very obvious, crusted over bite mark on your neck if he must.

And yeah, that would get very annoying to any real person, but like I said about Gale before.... I think your character has got to be at least slightly not normal about them, just to match how profoundly not normal they are about you.

... Anyway, do carry on, I just like this edgy dumbass, I like him being both edgy and a dumbass, and him trying to slowly be better about this whole "~~relationship~~" thing is making my little heart happy

(yes, there's the Halsin thing. I have thoughts. But I won't kick the hornet's nest lol.)