#but now i’ve moved on to another hyperfixation

[cryptidstealingyourcreditcard]

sorry i’ve been inactive for a hot minute my httyd fixation has faded sadly

[gumy-shark]

family guy death pose. my brains thinkin some gayass thoughts right now and i did NOT sign up for this!!

[nihilistem]

adhd study affirmations + tips to stray from discouragement by a stem student with adhd.

you’re not always going to be consistent. you’re not always going to be motivated. you’re not always going to be efficient. and that is okay.

edit : thank you so much to whoever blazed this post. It means the world to me.

and the fact that you even got this far is an accomplishment in and of itself. In this line of work, people aren’t always the kindest to neurodivergent people especially since our symptoms can often hinder our performance academically.

if you’re good to go after reading the above, I’ve also made a post regarding adhd study tips that I haven’t seen anywhere else. (Part 2 is here!) But, if you’re burned out like me, feel free to keep reading.

honestly, these might serve a bit more as reminders because they’re kinda simple but even I needed this, so, here we go.

do not seek advice from anyone neurotypical unless it genuinely helps you. I cannot tell you the amount of time and tears I could have saved if I just considered the fact that just because popular self-improvement tips or study techniques didn’t work for me, it doesn’t mean I’m stupid or useless. It simply means our brains isn’t motivated by the same things neurotypical ones are, and therefore a lot of popular self-improvement videos or study tips aren’t going to work for you because 90% of the time, they’re not designed to work for neurodivergent people. So if you’d like to seek help in this area, look for tips and videos that ARE for neurodivergent people.

you might experience burnout a lot more than others. again, that is fine. if this doesn’t apply to you, great! Feel free to skip to the next tip/affirmation. If this does apply to you, read this carefully; if you’ve had any sort of streak in studying right now, chances are you know at least a portion of your studies were led purely on interest, curiosity or even novelty, as these are what keep us engaged in our studies. Knowing this, it is natural for you to experience burnout more frequently than others due to the possible hyperfixations that have been forming around your work. If you get burned out, please remember to take a break for a day and make sure it is efficient. Like your studies, your breaks are the key to having efficient study sessions in the future. So please treat yourself, especially if you’ve been working extra hard!

do not admire studious fictional characters unless it genuinely helps you or they too are neurodivergent. I know this technically could have been thrown in with tip number 1 but I felt like this tip alone is so important, because nowadays I see a lot of study tips with the title, ‘how to study like (insert studious fictional character here)’ and when I look at the post it kinda repeats the same few study tips I see all the time like ‘stay organized’ or ‘time block your day’ and I feel like admiring fictional characters who do things that don’t work for you can be damaging for your mental health, because we’re already told by neurotypical people all around us that we’re slow or lazy just because we don’t do things the way they do, and I think idolizing neurotypical people that make us feel bad at the end of the day just further promotes that kind of toxic thinking.

expect that a routine/schedule/technique that has been working for a while now may not continue to work in the future. things will always have to be new for us to be interested or engaged, that being said, if you expect this in the future you won’t be frustrated with yourself because you already had this in mind. It doesn’t mean you’re not smart. It doesn’t mean you’re lazy. It doesn’t mean you’re useless. It just means that you’ve done what you could, and now it’s time to move on to another routine/schedule/technique.

keep doing the things you love alongside work. I find that because our symptoms may cause us to fall behind on our studies, we tend to neglect our other needs as human beings just to make up for the fact that we simply do not learn or pick things up the same way neurotypical people do. Your hobbies and interests need to be part of your day, just as your studies do, even if you may take longer to learn things or remember important concepts in your studies. Neglecting your hobbies or interests can lead to even more frequent burn outs and even a relapse in depression and anxiety, so please take care of yourself and recognize that you need and deserve these things just as much as anyone else.

regularly discover what works for you on your own. here’s the thing; neurodivergent or not, no two brains work the same. Of course it is good to try out advice or tips you find online because they’re backed up by experience, but they’re backed up by that person’s experience with working with their own brain. So naturally, you need to find what works with your brain. Be open to trying everything, even the tips that are discouraged like listening to lyrical music while studying. That was the only way I learnt that this tip actually does help me at times, even when many people have said that it negatively affects your focus.

that’s all I have right now guys, I think I’m experiencing burn out or probably falling back into depression again so more than anything this also served as a reminder for me, but I really hope it also helped you guys nonetheless.

As always, tell me if you guys would like more posts like these and I’ll be happy to make more <33 please take care of yourself guys, and remember that your studies is just one aspect of your life. There are other aspects that need your care and attention too.

[enviedear]

･*:｡☃︎⁺₊❅. enviedear's winter wonderland

welcome to the winter wonderland! a time for candor and comfort—and fics that i hope you'll all enjoy! i just want to celebrate all of you that make this blog an absolute joy—by hyperfixating on something new every few months i’ve amassed so many lovelies from so many fandoms. i thought it was high time i did a little celebration with most of the characters i write for. think of it as my little gift to you—especially to the long term followers (crying w a smile)

without further ado...let's take a stroll through the winter wonderland ❆₊⋆𐂂 𖠰･⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

starts on december 4th until december 25th

week one — jason todd

baby—it's cold outside

after a mission goes horribly wrong, you get snowed in at a safehouse (rickety old cabin) with jason. you're both blaming each other for the failed mission, but the discovery that there's no firewood or heating has the two of you begrudgingly sharing body heat and blankets. OUT NOW !

christmas dreaming

when jason todd overhears your complaint about the town’s lackluster christmas trees, he takes it as a challenge. every day, he stops by your store with an update—always casual, always shrugging off your insistence that it’s unnecessary. but beneath the easy smiles and weather-worn jacket, jason is on a quiet mission.

for weeks, he’s combed through forests and farms, chasing the impossible—your perfect tree. and while he won’t admit it, this isn’t just about holiday spirit. it’s purely about you—and the way your smile might make the coldest december day feel warm. OUT NOW !

week two — dick grayson

love to keep me warm

dick grayson is your best friend, and has been since he moved to blüdhaven. you're more than familiar with taking trips to gotham with him, especially during the holidays! you've yet to miss one of bruce wayne's christmas galas—but this year is different. this year, you're hopelessly trying to hide the recent crush you've developed on your best friend. OUT NOW !

santa baby

to you, dick grayson might as well be santa claus. by day, he’s blüdhaven’s resident holiday hero, delivering toys to kids, lending a hand at soup kitchens, and visiting anyone spending the season alone. by night? well, nightwing doesn’t exactly take time off. you don’t mind him spreading christmas cheer—it’s one of the million reasons you fell for him—but when the twinkling lights and warm cocoa leave you longing for his touch, your thoughts start drifting toward a wish list of your own. all you want this year is him.

week three — jacaerys velaryon

walking in a winter wonderland

recently married and entrusted with the titles of lord and lady of dragonstone, jacaerys and you are adamant upon making the gloomy castle a respite for the winter. your plans falter, however, when the chill becomes too much for you. luckily, your husband is the blood of the dragon—and your own personal fireplace.

all i want for christmas—is you

the office is buzzing with holiday chaos, but you’ve got your own chaos. twelve days before christmas, a mysterious gift appears on your desk, and each morning brings another. thoughtful, perfect little things that make your heart race more than they should. it doesn’t take long for you to piece it together—jacaerys velaryon—isn’t as coy as he assumes. by christmas, you decide it’s time to return the favor. not with gifts, just with the words he’s been waiting to hear.

week four — the marauders

since we've no place to go—let it snow

at alice fortescue’s holiday party, you find james potter, your ex, sitting quietly by the fire. it’s been three years since you last saw him, but one heartfelt conversation—or atrocious snowstorm—just might be enough to glue the two of you back together.

a wonderful christmas time

single and surrounded by happy couples at your holiday trip is enough to send you spiraling. you feel like you're falling behind, and you're desperate enough to fall into an obvious tourist trap. it's said (the receptionist told you) that tying a red ribbon around a branch of the old oak during a snowfall will assure you a christmas miracle. only you don't find a miracle—just sirius black.

🗣️— + mystery bonus fics for the new year !!

can you guess for who?? hehe

🖇️ tags — if you want to be added to the taglist for this celebration, just comment below

[phoenixblaze1412]

Ahh i feel awkward asking for this again 😭😭but can we get smut general hcs/ fic of priest vampire dottore (sorry sorry its my current hyperfixation lol)

Dont worry^^ I don't mind helping your hyperfixations

His study is warm tonight—an unnatural warmth, almost suffocating. The windows are shut tight, and the only light comes from the flickering candles and the hearth, casting long shadows over shelves of ancient books and artifacts that hum with forgotten power.

Dottore sits at his desk, quill discarded beside parchment inked with half-written scripture. He’s not focused. Not on work. Not on doctrine. His eyes haven’t left you for the past five minutes.

“You’ve been staring,” you murmur, half-playful, half-nervous.

He doesn’t deny it. “You’ve been haunting my thoughts,” he replies, voice low, husky. “Even when I close my eyes, I still see you.”

You should laugh. Tease him, maybe. But your heart clenches.

So you speak.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence.

Then—he rises slowly from the chair. You think he might reject you. He’s a priest. A vampire. A being older and darker than you can fully understand.

But he crosses the room instead, standing in front of you, and reaches for your hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my cursed mansion and looked at me like I was something human,” he breathes. “I’ve tried to resist it. I can’t anymore.”

Your heart stutters.

He lifts your hand, kissing the skin near your wrist—right where your pulse beats strongest. “Say it again,” he murmurs.

“I love you.”

That’s all it takes.

---

His lips crash into yours like he’s starved for you, like you’re the only thing that could ever satisfy his eternal hunger. It’s not neat or restrained—there’s desperation in the way he kisses you, tongue sliding into your mouth, fangs grazing your lip but not piercing. Not yet.

You gasp when he presses you against the bookshelf, his body caging you there, hands roaming your waist and lower back.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to ruin you,” he growls softly.

“You’re a priest,” you whisper, dazed.

“I’m not a saint.”

He lifts you effortlessly, hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he carries you across the room to his bed—heavy, carved mahogany with black silk sheets. It smells faintly of him—cedar, candle smoke, and blood.

He lays you down as if in worship.

Then he strips you slowly. Carefully. His hands don’t shake, but his breath does. Every piece of clothing he removes feels ceremonial. Reverent.

When you’re bare before him, his red gaze devours you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Soft. Warm. Alive.”

“And you?” you whisper, reaching up to trace his collar, sliding his robe off his shoulders. “You’re mine.”

He shudders.

You pull him down into another kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You can feel him now—hard against your thigh, restrained only by layers he quickly strips away.

He kisses every inch of you before he takes you—neck, collarbone, between your breasts, down your stomach. When his mouth brushes over your inner thighs, he groans, fangs accidentally dragging against tender skin.

“Can I taste you?” he asks, voice trembling—not with fear, but restraint.

“Y-Yes.”

He bites lightly—just a drop of blood—and licks it clean, moaning softly at the flavor. “Sweet,” he mutters. “Even your blood is sweet.”

You reach for him, your voice breathless. “Dottore… please…”

He finally moves over you, aligning himself, his eyes locking onto yours.

“This may hurt,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek, “but I’ll go slow.”

When he pushes in, it’s with infinite care—but he’s thick, and your breath hitches as your body stretches to accommodate him. He shushes you gently, stroking your sides, kissing your throat.

You cling to him as he begins to move, every thrust deliberate and deep, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming—pleasure tinged with something darker, something sacred.

“Feel that?” he whispers against your ear. “That’s me claiming you.”

You nod, moaning softly, your nails raking down his back.

His lips kiss your throat again, but this time… he bites.

The fangs pierce you gently, and the wave of sensation that follows makes your eyes roll back. The pain is dulled, overtaken by ecstasy as he drinks from you—just a little—while still moving inside you.

He’s careful not to take too much. Just enough to feel you. To taste the love blooming in your blood.

When you climax, your cry is muffled in his shoulder. You tremble beneath him, walls tightening around his length, and that’s what undoes him. He moans your name, thrusts harder, deeper—and then stills as he spills inside you, groaning like a man who’s finally found peace.

---

He doesn’t move for a while.

You lie tangled together in the sheets, his head buried against your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

He kisses the bite mark. It’s already healing.

“I’ll never let you go,” he murmurs.

You smile, fingers stroking his hair. “Good. I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

He lifts his head just enough to kiss you again—slow this time. Sweet. Deep. Then whispers:

“Mine.”

[madyb17]

okay so I’m putting myself out there because I need to, I used to epically write fanfiction from 2020-2022 but sorta lost that want to write. I watched the walking dead last year and Its been my hyperfixation since, especially daryl dixon (anyone who looks at my blog can tell 😜). Recently I’ve been trying to kick it back up again and I’m only posting this because my lovely best friend dulce told me it was good! Give me tips I beg 🐞

a short daryl dixon blurb, been obsessed with Polaroids lately :)

Polaroids 

It was a warm night, windows cracked open just enough to let the breeze in. The only light came from the bedside lantern, casting a golden hue across the sheets. They’d barely made it through dinner, Daryl had watched her lick pie filling off her thumb and he was done for.

Now her thighs were open beneath him, wrapped around his waist, ankles hooked loosely behind his back. His chest hovered just above hers, their bodies flushed and tangled. Slow, deep thrusts drawing shaky gasps from both of them.

He was buried deep. Holding still. Needing to give himself a break before he finished embarrassingly quick.

His forehead rested against hers for a long beat, their breath mingling in that quiet, ruined way.

Then she whispered, lips brushing his cheek, “You keep lookin’ at me like that.”

He blinked. Pulled back just enough to really see her.

She was glowing, cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded and glossy. Her hair was a mess again, strands splayed across the pillow. Her mouth was parted, still swollen from his kisses, and her chest rose and fell with each desperate inhale.

His hands slid to her hips, grounding himself in the way her body pulsed around him. And then, without thinking he leaned over, grabbed the Polaroid camera from the nightstand, and sat up.

He muttered her name, voice tight and low.

She looked up at him, confused at first then caught the way he held the camera above them, angled downward.

“Daryl,” she breathed, breath catching.

“I wanna remember this,” he said. No shame. No teasing. Just honesty.

She didn’t answer. Just tilted her hips up slightly, chest arching toward him, silently giving permission.

He took the photo while still inside her, his body between her legs, her thighs framing the shot, her breasts rising toward the lens. Her face flushed, eyes hazy, one hand tangled in the sheets.

Click. Whirr.

The camera gave its little mechanical hum, and the photo slowly slipped out.

Daryl placed it gently on the nightstand without looking at it. His hands returned to her body, fingers gripping her thighs again like he needed them to breathe.

And then he moved.

It was slow at first. Deep. His mouth found hers again, and she moaned into him soft and desperate. Every thrust now felt different. Like the photo had frozen something sacred in time, and now they were building on it. Breaking into something even more raw.

She clung to him. Called his name. Told him she loved the way he looked at her.

He didn’t say a word.

He just kept moving. Worshiping. And later, when she was fast asleep across his chest, he reached for the Polaroid with shaking hands.

He stared at it for a long time, heart hammering.

Then he slid it behind another photo he had taken of her in his bedside table, as a reminder of everything they had given each other.

[thewinter-eden]

Blood Sugar Virus (final)

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT (FINAL)

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense, slow burn Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, Happy Lemon Drop Day 😁 We’ve reached the final chapter which kind of breaks my heart way more than I thought it would. It IS an 11k word chapter though, so I hope that soothes the sting (it didn’t for me but hey). I genuinely loved writing this story and I cannot believe that my hyperfixation on it carried me all the way through. I hope you guys enjoy ❤️

Story Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

< last chapter | masterlist

You and Jimin are still as the guys around you jump to their feet and get ready to head out again. Neither of you can move well enough on your own, left to wait for someone to help you. It feels unbelievably infantile, being unable to carry your own weight and having to expect someone else to carry it for you, but either you let them take care of you or you get left behind—and none of them seem willing to leave you in the dirt.

Hongjoong rounds them up into a huddle, reorganizing Ateez to proceed from here.

“Did something happen?” Jimin whispers to you, his eyes wide. “Did he hurt you? I swear to god, I told him I’d kill him—these fucking assholes, it’s like every time I turn around—”

“Don’t talk about them like that.” You deliver a sharp elbow to his ribs. “They’ve kept you alive all night, and they’re good people. Incredibly good people. You gotta stop flying off the handle at them, Chim.”

“You were deliriously happy—literally—ten minutes ago and now you’re over here looking like you did when we got back from the GOT7 program.” Jimin squeezes your shoulder tightly, like he’s trying to punctuate the memory he’s recalling with reassurance that he doesn’t mean to hurt you with it. “If he hurt you, I want to know.”

The group is moving, getting Mingi up, heading for the two of you.

The only thing that hurts is the weight of the wall you’ve just slammed down around your heart. “He didn’t hurt me. I swear. He’s been killing himself to get me this far. Don’t worry, Chim, it’s all good.”

“Yeosang, you’ve got Sugar?” Hongjoong asks, pausing in conferring with Taegyeom when he notices that you’re still sitting on the ground.

“Yeah, I’ve got her.” Yeosang says from somewhere in the middle of the huddle of guys, and you see him shoulder through them to approach you.

The stabbing in your heart conflicts with the betrayal of butterflies in your stomach. “No, Yeosang needs a break.” You argue out loud. “He needs to rest for a bit.”

He’s still coming towards you, ignoring your protest, when Wooyoung appears beside him. “I want her.” He pushes past Yeosang. “That good with you, Noona?”

You’re nothing short of eager to have an option other than the man you want to be able to let go of. Instead of trusting your voice to convey your agreement, you lift your arms like a child begging to be picked up.

When Yeosang utters your name, displeased, you almost break. “I’m fine, I can get you.”

“You’re hurt.” You mutter, as though he needs a reminder. “I’ll go with Woo.”

The younger man crouches down to your level, wrapping his arms around you to bring you up to your feet. Blood washes from your head to your toes in a rush, and you sway dizzily in his hold. He keeps you steady, helping you step away from Jimin so that San can move in and pick up your best friend.

“How do you want to do this?” Wooyoung asks you. “If I carry you on my back, can you hold on? Or will that hurt your hip?”

You don’t want to think about the position that will put you in, having to open your hips to wrap your legs around him, but you can’t ignore the fact that it will be less strain on him than carrying you bridal style in his arms.

He could toss you over his shoulder like Hajoon did to Jimin, but you predict that if the blood rushes back into your head like that, you’re likely to throw up all over him.

“I can get on your back.” You say. “That should work.”

When he turns and crouches low for you to drape yourself over him, you see Yeosang. Standing nearby, watching, uncertain.

It should be no surprise to him that you would insist on giving him a rest from taking care of you, but you’re also fairly sure that you weren’t the most subtle about freaking out and bolting away from him.

His expression has blanked out, but you’ve seen him shuffle through enough emotions over the course of the night that you can recognize the underlying worry.

You went from relatively okay, to losing your mind, to fleeing from him like a stranger in a short span of time, and he’s worried.

That’s not your problem.

He is Kang Yeosang of Ateez, not your boyfriend.

Not a member of your team.

Not someone who’s emotions are your responsibility.

You climb onto Wooyoung’s back. It’s more comfortable than you had thought it would be, your arms fitting securely over his shoulders and his hands cupping you firmly at your thighs. Your hip isn’t too strained by the position, more at ease without your weight on it.

“You good?” He asks you.

“Yep.” You lay your chin over his shoulder. “You can readjust if you need to. I’m good.”

He bounces you once, lightly, getting a better grip on you, and then turns to Yeosang. “We’re good, hyung. Ready to go.”

The older man trades his gaze between you and Wooyoung, not responding.

“Yeosang, you’re up front with me. Seonghwa, take the rear.” Hongjoong says.

“Get me if you need to swap.” Yeosang tells Wooyoung, and then offers you a small smile. It’s such a fond, open expression that you feel your heart clench, unable to stop yourself from returning it. Then he turns and picks his way to the front with the captain, leaving you with Wooyoung, San, and Jimin in the middle of the pack.

Seonghwa slips past you to take up the rear, and then the company is moving.

Morning light is spreading through the trees, making it easy to find their footing without tripping over branches and roots or running through short bushes and brambles.

You’re warm and comfortable against Wooyoung, lulled almost into a drowsy state by the soft rhythm of his gait.

Next to you, San carries Jimin across his chest. The raw deterioration of your friend’s entire leg makes it painfully impossible to carry him in the same piggy back configuration, since gripping any portion of the damaged muscle would instantly aggravate it. However, if any of your group are capable of holding a person’s entire weight in his arms for an extended period of time, the statuesque structure of San makes him the perfect candidate.

“Now that I’ve got you where you can’t run away,” Wooyoung starts softly, keeping his voice low. “What just happened between you and Yeosang?”

Of course he has to get to the bottom of it. Of course you can’t be left alone to bemoan your tendency to self-sabotage. You play dumb. “What do you mean?”

You can practically feel him rolling his eyes. “All that ‘he’s not my boyfriend’ bullshit. He said something dumb again, didn’t he? We’ve told you, the man is socially stunted. You’re gonna have to learn to read between the lines with him.”

“As adorable as it is that you are faithfully committed to being his matchmaker, I think you should hold out for another opportunity,” you tease, giving his shoulder a playful pinch. You have to treat it like a joke. You have to laugh it off, or you’ll sink into heartbreak that you have no business feeling.

“She’s emotionally stunted.” Jimin supplies quietly. “They’re perfect for each other.”

That’s not helping. “Jimin, shut up.”

“Do you not like him?” Wooyoung asks. “It’s totally fair if you’ve decided that you’re not really into him—though that would make you certifiably insane—but it really seemed like it was mutual.”

You debate your answer. Maybe it would be easier to just say that he’s right, that you felt a disconnection somewhere and didn’t end up feeling quite as strongly for him as thought you did.

It’s too big a lie. Even with all your training and experience in acting, you don’t think you can be believed.

There’s nothing about Yeosang that doesn’t draw you closer to him and make you feel safe.

There’s nothing about your decision to take a step back that doesn’t feel like you’re losing something you can never get back.

“I don’t think we should be talking about this right now.” You say instead. “We should stay quiet.”

“You’re avoiding.” Jimin says flatly. “I’ve never seen you like you are with him. I think you’re overthinking. I know I’ve been kind of caustic tonight, but I think you’d be foolish to walk away from this.”

You can barely think past your numbing headache. You’re nowhere near present enough to stand at odds with Jimin. If you have this conversation now, you’ll admit to Too much. “Nothing happened. Everything’s fine.”

“So you do like him.” Wooyoung states evenly. “You don’t think he likes you?”

Frustration tightens your jaw. You have to stop yourself from snapping at him to shut him up.

He’s being kind.

He’s trying to help you.

He wants Yeosang happy, and for some reason, he thinks you’re the ticket.

Maybe explaining the truth of the situation will show them you’ve made the right decision. They can’t argue the facts. “I think we both got swept up. I think this can’t survive real life.”

Jimin utters a disbelieving laugh. “You think you’ll face something more difficult than this? If you can work through the zombie apocalypse and come out of it madly in love with each other, I’m pretty sure you can handle taxes and family planning.”

“I don’t think real life is going to be harder than this, I think it’s going to be more boring. It’s easy to feel strong emotions when everything’s on fire, but when it’s mundane? Normal? Boring? What then?”

You can’t keep him entertained all the time. You can’t keep up the thrill of living like you’ve experienced together tonight.

But Wooyoung just laughs softly. It’s not mocking, or belittling—it’s relieved. “Oh, sweet Sugar. Your man lives for the mundane. We get all the excitement we can take in our concerts and promotions. When we get time at home, he’s the epitome of normal. He goes to the gym. He eats good food. He takes his vitamins and supplements. He plays video games. We have to convince him to go out with us. If you think domestic life with him is gonna be anything other than quietly mundane, you’ve been misinformed.”

Jimin breathes deeply, like Wooyoung has just taken a huge weight off his shoulders. “God, see? It’s like you’re already primed to coexist. You both go to work, you come home ready to take a load off—and at least this guy will make sure you eat and sleep properly.”

It is a comfort. To know that you wouldn’t have been expected to spend your off days or weekends chasing every social engagement under the sun. But the fundamental problem still remains—he doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know who he thinks he likes.

And you’re already in deep, completely entranced by him. Even if you went on a number of dates to get to know each other, him deciding to either ghost you or inform you that he doesn’t think you want the same things would crush you.

You’re woefully poorly adjusted to the uncertainty of dating, the eggshells you walk to be on your best behavior and hope you won’t make an insurmountable mistake—your anxious heart wants unwavering commitment, not existential doubt.

It’s not Yeosang you’re rejecting, it’s the concept of dating.

You want your life to be full of certainties—lunch with your mom every so often, work every day, your cat every time you come home, peace inside the walls of your own home.

You’re a coward.

“He won’t want me when this is over.” You’ve said it. It’s out there. Your head is spinning and your limbs are on fire, but your heart is hanging out in the open.

“You won’t even give him the chance to find that out for himself?” Wooyoung argues. “He’s openly fixated on you, and you seem to like him just as much. That’s not fair.”

It may not be fair.

But you’re a coward.

“I don’t want to go through that again.” You whisper.

“So you’re never going to try?” Jimin questions. “You’re going to turn down every guy you like, just in case it one day stops working out?”

“I’m good alone. I’m safe alone.”

“Yeah, but you’re lonely.”

At Jimin’s deadpan response, your brain stutters. “I’m not lonely.”

“You are.” He says softly. “I can see it. We could all see it. You think we don’t know why you work yourself to the bone? Why you don’t give yourself any time to be alone? We could all see it.”

Silence resounds between you. The gentle crunch of leaves under their feet is the only sound besides the quiet murmuring of the guys ahead of you.

You are lonely.

Your routines keep you busy, and your work keeps you fulfilled in a professional capacity, and your friends and family filled almost every corner of your heart. But you can’t deny that the safety of your private apartment sometimes feels like emptiness. And the peace of your quiet life at home sometimes feels like abandonment.

But what’s left for you now?

Even if everything can go back to normal—you don’t have your job. You don’t have your family. You would be walking into your empty apartment with nothing but your cat and the memories of this horrible night and all it took from you.

Everything is uncertain now.

Everything you had to hold onto and protect yourself with is gone.

You’ll be starting from nothing.

“I’m not enough for him.” The broken whisper bares itself without your permission.

“I think you’re wrong.” Wooyoung says, just as softly.

You can’t believe him. You’ll be too driven by your pursuit of the career that you lost, too broken by the deaths of your friends, too guarded emotionally, not useful enough, not nurturing enough, not happy enough.

“The first time he met you, in our second program prep session in that coffee shop, he was inside his head all day.” Seonghwa’s voice floats into the conversation from behind you. “That night, we couldn’t find him for dinner—Yunho discovered him holed up in his bedroom, reading your orientation packet like he was studying for a test.”

Your heart flutters all over again, and it’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever felt. It shouldn’t matter so much to you that he cared so much about your program, but your body is filling with pride and excitement.

“The next day he was in the gym so early—like, the moment it opened.” San says. “We didn’t have a schedule, so we couldn’t figure out why he was up so early. But then on the way to our next meeting with you, he was reciting facts about the program. Like he’d memorized it overnight. He told us to behave, and to listen to you and Rosé, as though we were a bunch of little kids on a field trip.”

“It was weird,” Wooyoung agrees. “We were all kinda confused. He was all like, ‘she worked really hard on this, we should be respectful.’ And we were like, ‘well yeah, we all want to do this, stop being weird about it.’”

“We figured it out pretty quickly after that.” San says. “He was trying to be cool. But he kept asking things like what your drink order had been, if you had said anything about a dress code, if we thought he had said something dumb or embarrassing. Wooyoung cornered him by the third day, because we were all catching on. What did he say to you, Woo?”

“I mean, he was in denial for a bit, but I got it out of him.” Wooyoung says proudly. “He liked you. He asked me if I thought it would be inappropriate to ask you for your personal number. He called you pretty—which, duh—he said you seemed really nice and really smart, and he thought your stories were so cool and creative—like, completely raving about you. I was trying to poke at him, to see how deep he was; I said that I was gonna ask you out, and that I thought we had a connection.”

You give him a small laugh, shaking your head fondly against his shoulder. “We had such a great connection.”

“Oh, such a great connection,” Wooyoung teases back cheerfully. “But I had to let him have a chance, you know?”

“Oh sure, sure.”

“Anyway, he was…” he pauses, struggling to find the words. “He kinda looked like I’d sucker punched him, a little. I had to tell him I was kidding, because he would have backed off for me—that’s just who he is—but the guy was so disappointed.”

“Once we knew, he didn’t really try to hide it anymore.” Seonghwa says. “We’d come home from your prep sessions and he’d be all giggly and flustered, talking about all the times you’d spoken to him. You’d think he was in high school or something. He was dressing up for you, asking us to help him come up with things to say to you, getting all sensitive when we joked about how nice and pretty you are.”

Your heart is racing. “He was?”

“He was giddy.” San says flatly. “We were taking bets on how quickly he would embarrass himself in front of you. We told him to get through the program and fulfill our contract before trying to change the dynamic, and he said he already planned to do that, but he was thinking about places to take you. Should he take you to a movie? To dinner? Out for drinks? Get a reservation at an impossible-to-reserve restaurant?”

Seonghwa breaks in again. “I told him he should find the nicest place in town and impress you, but he said he thought you might feel like he was trying to throw status at you. He said he wanted it to be comfortable, not competitive, whatever that means. Anyway, he decided he wanted to find a place where you could just sit and talk and just spend time together—and he found this beautiful coffee shop—”

You feel horrible.

Monstrous.

Cruel.

What is wrong with you?

He’d put thought into making you comfortable and you had laughed at him.

Forget being too boring, you’ve insulted his consideration of you.

You’d been propositioned by wealthy clients who thought they could impress you with the nicest restaurant in town. If he had expected you to show up, dressed to the nines and sitting stiffly as a team of waiters buzzed around you like you were a couple of VIPs, you would have gone home and turned the page on him.

You’re a horrible person.

“Why did he like me so much?” You ask timidly. “Was it the way I had to wrangle you guys like cats? Because I was pretty impressed with myself.” You’re praying it’s not that. You’re praying he didn’t notice you for the way you were organizing events and talking to staff to make sure all of the messy details got cleaned up and patiently enduring all of the various speed-bumps that you ended up running into—like when the trampoline place lost your appointment, or when the company didn’t have enough seats on the bus.

“Girl, he was on our asses for being out of control. He was lecturing us left and right for our craziness, telling us you shouldn’t have to be parenting us like wild children.” Wooyoung snorts. “Which is absurd, because we were perfect gentlemen.”

You don’t comment.

“He said he could tell you love your work. That you get all bubbly and excited when you talk about your stories. That you’re cute when you sing karaoke. That your dry sense of humor was the funniest thing—and yeah, Sugar, you’re funny, but you’re not that funny. Anyway, the point is, Yeosang thought you were interesting and kind and beautiful from the moment he met you. He didn’t develop an adrenalized crush on you tonight. Do you remember when Jongho threw you at that fake zombie? And Yeosang caught your hand and rescued you?” Seonghwa asks.

You do remember.

It’s one of the funniest things that’s ever happened to you in a program. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know if you saw it, but he was bright red. Like…as soon as he realized he was holding your hand he looked at me and he was blushing so hard. It was adorable. You were acting like a scared high school student and he was all flustered about holding your hand.”

He’d told you he wanted to ask you out. He’d told you he was interested in you before today—or yesterday.

But hearing this, hearing that all of the thoughtless and mundane things about you had been what had caught his eye in the first place, it has your entire body thrumming.

You’d been doing your job, enjoying casual hangouts with clients, and he’d liked you for you. Not for the psycho who runs into danger, or the nurturer who protected his brothers, or the provider who gave up too much of herself.

Even now as you think back, he’d been working with you, trying to restrain your urges, staying loyally next to you in the terrifying moments of danger, but it was the quiet moments that he drew closer to you.

When Jin bit you, when you distracted the hoard for Hongjoong, the zombie pile, the fight for Jimin, the zombies with Wooyoung and Hongjoong, the swarms of wasps—he’d been focused, concentrated, working.

But when he patched you up, when the lockdown happened, all the quiet moments in the office, after the plan to axe the barricade didn’t work out, when he rescued you from the classroom full of zombies, when you’d been scheming about the fire—those were the moments that he pulled you closer.

When the danger had passed, when a bit of normal returned, when you could sit and be yourself, that’s when he reached for you.

Maybe you’re wrong.

Maybe you can risk it.

Maybe you can last.

“He really cared that much?”

It’s Jimin who answers. “Babe, it sounds like this guy likes you in spite of tonight. Not because of it.”

“I laughed at him for his couples therapy comment,” Wooyoung remarks lightly. “But he was kinda right. He would have asked you out anyway, but now you guys know who you are under pressure. Most couples don’t get that before the first date.”

YEOSANG

“Is she okay?” Hongjoong bends low to crawl under a branch and peeks up at Yeosang. “She wasn’t looking good there for a minute.”

The younger man pushes the branch back and pauses to hold it for Yunho and Mingi to duck under. Jongho takes it from him and waits to hold it for Wooyoung, San, Seonghwa, and the two they carry with him.

“I don’t know,” he admits carefully, finding his place next to Hongjoong again. “She was going pretty strong until a little bit ago. I’m a little worried about the way she started losing clarity. Do you think that’s a sign of a bigger problem?”

Hongjoong shrugs cluelessly. “I’m not a medical professional. But I wouldn’t think she needs a bigger problem. She’s got like five bites, all of them muscle deep. That, paired with her being responsible for us while watching all of her friends die doesn’t make a very hospitable environment for a speedy recovery.”

That’s about what Yeosang had assumed on his own. “She’ll be fine. Just as long as we can get out of here and get some help.”

“What did you say to her?” Yunho whispers, urging Mingi a little faster. They crowd in behind Hongjoong and Yeosang, glancing cautiously at the soldiers who travel on the perimeter of the group.

“When?” Yeosang glances back to find both of the taller men peering at him with unbridled concern. His brow furrows, baffled. “What? What’s wrong?”

Mingi raises an eyebrow at him, adjusting his hold on Yunho’s shoulder. “Whatever you said that made her run to Jimin. You’d think you’d have gotten that foot out of your mouth by now.”

Yeosang’s face scrunches with offended confusion. “What? She wanted to check on him.”

“I can’t believe, after all this buildup, you’re fumbling this girl.” Yunho mutters. “She’s like actually your other half, and you can’t stop yourself from screwing it up.”

“Woah, hey, I didn’t say anything. She went to check on Jimin. Then she wanted me to take a break. I didn’t fumble anything.” Yeosang glares back at them, not at all enjoying the miffed expressions on their faces. “Mind your own business. Focus on walking.”

“Then why did she tell Jimin you’re not her boyfriend?”

At Yunho’s hissed words, Yeosang’s pace slows. His spine twists, looking back at Sugar as she clings to Wooyoung’s back. Her eyes meet his, and slide away.

His heart feels like a rock in his chest. “Because we haven’t actually had time to label anything while we’ve been running for our lives.” But his mind is sorting through the events of the past through minutes.

She’d started losing awareness, calling out for Namjoon. Then she’d seemed to come back to herself a little bit, only to continue to slip between reality and memories like she couldn’t distinguish between the two. She’d been fine, safe, holding him like he held her, until the moment she decided to move over to Jimin and tell him she didn’t want him to be the one to carry her.

He shakes his head. “She should be unconscious by now, with all the shit wearing on her. She needs her wounds treated and she needs to sleep.”

Yunho shrugs. “I don’t know, she seemed bothered by something. I think she was crying.”

“She’s in a shit load of pain, leave her alone.” Hongjoong mutters. But then he glances at Yeosang. “Back in the school, when she came to help me and Hwa, it seemed like she was thinking you wouldn’t stick around after all this. If I were you, I’d think very carefully about this crush you’ve got on her and figure out if you want to be serious about it or not. She just lost almost everyone she loves. She doesn’t need to be played with right now. Either commit to this or cut her loose. It’s not a game, Yeo. If you’re serious about her, just be there. Otherwise, let her go. All of us survived this, we can work through the aftermath together. All she has is Jimin.” He pats the younger man’s arm once and returns his focus to the path ahead.

The reflex to defend himself, to argue that he’s not playing with anybody’s emotions, dies abruptly by the time Hongjoong is finished. Unable to ignore the weight of that truth, that her circumstances are more serious than his desire to chase these invigorating feelings that he has, Yeosang follows along in pensive silence.

Everything his captain said was true.

She’d lost nearly everyone. She’s escaping with her life, and very little else.

His job may not look the same after tonight, but at least he and the rest of Ateez can figure out a way to reform as a group and continue to put out music wherever they land.

Her entire production team and management team, and stylists and coordinators and actors, all died tonight. She doesn’t have a team to go home with. She doesn’t have a job to go back to.

She and Jimin will have to face tomorrow by making ends meet and trying to start over from the bottom.

A flood of questions swarm his mind.

Not regarding his feelings for her—if he’s certain of anything, it’s that everything he’s been through with her has only confirmed what he thought from the beginning: she’s strong, smart, loyal to herself; she’s someone he can understand, relate to, connect with; even under the stress and pressure and fear, she continued to be the person he wanted to be next to, trusting her as she lead them through.

He believes he’d seen her moments of weakness and rashness for what they were—not the hopeless actions of a women who doesn’t want to be saved, but the scared resignation of someone who doesn’t know she should be. She proved that much when she saved herself.

Her selfless habits of loading herself down with responsibility, taking burdens from others to bear them herself, her belief that her purpose is to serve and not to live, all struck him as the behavior of someone who hadn’t been allowed to be human; to make mistakes; to need to be cared for in turn.

His only questions now are regarding what she needs to be able to continue to be the best version of herself.

Would his presence in her life hold her back?

Would he just be a distraction, inhibiting her from finding what she wants the most?

Would he just be a reminder of everything she lost?

Is he the best person to be by her side for whatever comes next?

Jimin knows her. He looks out for her. He knows what she needs and what he denies herself. She trusts him, and they don’t stop each other from reaching their dreams.

Would he just be getting in the way of the life she wants to build?

His mind goes back to the lockdown, when she’d told him that all she wanted was the chance to rest and enjoy life without the pressure of work and responsibilities. He’d known in that moment that if he could give her nothing else, he could make sure that she could have days like that.

Not just one, but so many that she forgets what it’s like to dream about it, like it’s something out of her reach.

He wants her to be able to take rest and relaxation for granted, to learn to be lazy sometimes and forgive herself for it.

He hasn’t known her for any longer than a week, but god, he wants to.

He wants to see her create a life for herself that she’s proud of, like she had when he met her. He wants to watch her create stories that make her giddy with confidence and excitement, to watch her become everything she can be, because he’s never seen anyone so perfectly made for a vocation like she is with her programs.

He wants to be there when everything feels like it’s falling apart, when she feels like giving up, when she has moments where she loses faith in herself—because he’s seen what she can do and what she can create, and he knows that she’s capable of so much more than she thinks she is.

He started this week with an inexplicable crush on a pretty girl, but now he feels like he’s found a partner. She’d responded to his affection in a way he never dreamed was possible, but she’d also trusted him implicitly. She hadn’t spent the night pushing him to the side so she could face the situation with the people she knew and felt comfortable with, she’d fallen into a rhythm of partnership. She’d trusted herself with him, and he’d trusted himself with her.

That wasn’t the thrill of infatuation.

That was compatibility. Communication. Faith.

He can’t dismiss that.

He can’t walk away from tonight without her, not after he’d discovered a sense of self next to her. Not after she took his breath away at every turn.

She’s scared.

She’s hurt.

She can conquer this, and the world, on her own two feet.

But he has no intention of letting her do it without him.

Not when he doesn’t want to do it without her.

SUGAR

“We’re gonna stop here.” Taegyeom brings you to a stop in a stretch of woods that faces the gas station. The lights are on at the pumps, but the store is dark. It’s not open yet in these wee hours of morning, and won’t be for a few more at least.

He directs your little group of survivors into a tight cluster of trees and tells you to find places to sit down again where you can lay low for the next few hours. Once satisfied that his charges are following his instructions without question, he turns to the soldiers and positions them at the best vantage points to keep watch.

Wooyoung crouches low to the ground to allow you to get off his back, moving his hands from beneath your thighs to your arms so he can anchor you when you land. Despite trying to be careful, your feet hit the ground with an impact that sends shocks of tingling pain from your heels to your hips.

Staggering dizzily, you let yourself lean against him and use his grip on your hands to ground yourself until the uncomfortable nerve sensation passes. “Ugh, I think I’m gonna puke.” You groan, tucking your chin to your chest as nausea swirls in your gut and heats your cheeks.

“Alright, alright, hold on, don’t puke on me.” Wooyoung says quickly, kindly, turning himself so he can catch you against his chest and spin you to face the bushes. “I’ve got you. If you’re gonna be sick, aim it over there. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

San slips by you, easing Jimin down against a tree and helping him arrange his legs. “You should try to sleep, hyung,” he says. “We’ve got a few hours to wait.”

“He’s right.” Seonghwa agrees, sitting in the middle of your friends and crossing his legs beneath him. “You both should try to rest. We’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

Hongjoong sits at the front, leaning against his own tree with a long groan. “God, what I wouldn’t give for my bed right now.”

“Anybody else starving?” Yunho drops like a rock to the ground next to Mingi. “I feel like I could eat a whole cow.”

“I want pasta.” Mingi mutters. “I’m dying for pasta.”

“You always want pasta.” Jongho grumbles. “I’m with Yunho.”

As the debate continues, you focus on trying to settle the violent upheaval pulsing between your slamming headache and your tight stomach. After a few seconds that crawl like a lifetime, your taut muscles start to relax. The fire fades from your face, your organs stop heaving. “I’m good.” You whisper when you can trust yourself to breathe again. Your body is calming. “I’m good now, Woo.”

“You sure?” He pulls your hair away from your shoulders and arranges it against your back. His face appears near yours, brow furrowing as he takes in the color of your cheeks. “Don’t force yourself, it’s okay.”

You shake your head, no longer buzzing beneath your skin like you’re one wrong move away from losing whatever’s left in your stomach. You can’t imagine there’s anything left in your system anyway. “No, I feel better. I just needed a minute to orient myself. You can put me down.”

Footsteps crunch through the leaves behind you, and Wooyoung’s hands still against your back.

He’s not helping you find a place to sit down, so you reach out your hands to catch yourself against the nearest tree, rewarded by the harsh bite of bark against your palms.

“Wooyoung.” Yeosang.

His soft voice comes from right behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. Even the low timbre of his tone sends your heart racing, even though anxious apprehension still crashes into your thoughts.

How did you go from cool and steady to craving his presence next to you with the desperation of addiction?

It’s not even just attraction swirling through your blood, coloring the way you see the world, but a sense of security that you didn’t realize you were missing until he’s beside you again.

Everything you had done tonight, with the exception of the turbulent early moments where they weren’t sure if they could trust you, you had done by his side.

You hadn’t realized how much courage you had drawn from having him with you.

“Give her a minute, hyung. She’s okay for now, I’ll sit with her.” Wooyoung keeps his hands on you, supporting your weight so you can turn yourself and slide down the trunk of the tree to land on your butt in the dirt.

Now that you’re facing them, you find Yeosang’s eyes on you. He stands next to Wooyoung, posture strong and sure, gaze hard as stone. He doesn’t even look at his younger brother. “Go sit with San, Wooyoung.” He’s not asking.

You can’t break eye contact. It occurs to you that you might have pushed him far enough away that whatever he’s now come to say to you is exactly what you’ve been afraid of. The look in his eyes terrifies you.

Wooyoung glances at you, worried. “I don’t know if she wants you to—”

Yeosang fixes him with a blank stare. “She speaks for herself. Go on, Woo.”

Your vision is weak as your eyes flash between them, catching the hesitation on Wooyoung’s face and the determination on Yeosang’s.

You owe him a conversation. Whatever it leads to.

A few minutes ago, you would have let Wooyoung run interference for you. You would have done everything you could to drive a wedge of professionalism between yourself and Yeosang to protect yourself, but your curiosity is defeating your fear.

You want to see how Yeosang treats you with freedom so near. You want to see how he’s going to react to how you pushed him away, how Wooyoung is trying to keep you from him. You want to see if you can find the steadiness of the man who stayed by your side all night, or if you’re going to get the sense that he doesn’t know what he wants. Or, worse, if he knows what he wants, and it isn’t you.

“It’s okay,” you tell your self-appointed protector. “Really, Woo.”

Wooyoung glances down at you, trying to read your face, searching for any sign that you’re just trying to keep the peace rather than actually feeling comfortable about being left with the man who has the power to break your heart.

When he sees only open, weary vulnerability, all pretenses at strength and courage long since disappeared, he kneels down next to you. “If you want to be left alone about all of this until after you’ve gotten a chance to rest and recover a little bit, just give me a signal. I’ll fight him off for you, okay?” He flashes you a cocky grin and smacks a kiss right to the apple of your cheek. “I’ve got your back, Noona.”

Laughing at his brazen closeness that is clearly meant to poke at Yeosang, you land a weak slap to his shoulder. “Get out of here, punk, you’re breathing on my face.”

He winks at you and scoots back, rising to face Yeosang again. “Don’t make me come back here and separate you two.”

Yeosang doesn’t seem to be in a playful mood. “You have five seconds.”

Wooyoung throws his hands up innocently and shuffles away to find San, stretching the stiffness out of his back as he goes.

You forgot to thank him for carrying you like a child this whole way, but it’s probably too dangerous to call him back now, especially since Yeosang looks like he’s actually five seconds away from putting him on his face.

When he turns back to you, the tension melts out of his expression.

It gives you whiplash, mind scrambling to make sense of the shift.

You’d braced yourself for confrontation, but now he’s looking at you with so much softness that you’re stuck between letting your guard down and keeping yourself firmly bolstered to face rejection or anger—or both.

Stepping towards you with careful movements, he takes a second to glance over your body, checking your hip, your arm, your neck. All of your bites are bandaged, but you’re sure they’ve all bled through.

You must look horrible. Hair matted and knotted, clothes torn and soaked with blood, face covered in scratches and probably sweat and grime—you suddenly wish it was dark again so he can’t see you so well.

Yeosang lowers himself to his knees in front of you. “Can I stay?” He asks softly. He’s watching you, eyes wide and focused, waiting for you to tell him to leave.

He knows you pushed him away. He knows you chose Wooyoung for more reasons than just to give him a rest. You can see it in his face. Either he’d heard some of what you’d said, or someone else had and told him about it.

Instead of wanting to keep him at arm’s length or further, you just feel horrible. You’d panicked about the possibility of him turning on you, but you had been the inconsistent one. You had been the one who was unfair to him.

Your brain is still screaming at you, begging you not to let yourself be dragged in and hurt again, but for once, you’re not listening. “Please stay.” You whisper.

What are you doing?

Going against everything you’d disciplined yourself to do just because you learned that he’d had a crush on you a week ago?

Letting him in because after tonight, you don’t think you’ll ever meet anyone who makes you feel the way he does?

Yeah, apparently.

Yeosang turns himself to sit beside you, leaning his back against the tree with a heavy sigh. He scoops one of your hands off your lap and holds it tightly in his, resting it against his thigh as he stretches out his legs to lay alongside yours.

The confrontation doesn’t come.

Everything about the moment is so grounding, his shoulder pressed against yours, your palms warm and fingers intertwined, that all you want to do is put your head on his shoulder and give into the sleepiness tugging at the loose threads of your consciousness.

He’s just sitting there, breathing next to you. So why does it feel like you’ve finally found the safety you’ve been craving all night?

Yeosang tilts his head back against the tree, blinking up at the last of the stars that are still visible in the faint glow of morning. “I’m gonna stay with you,” he says simply. “For whatever happens next.”

It takes you a second to figure out why those words, in that voice, have touched your ears before, rooting themselves into your head with resolute finality. The memory comes back with a rush of heat. It’s what he said to you right before he kissed you for the first time, so many hours ago in that hallway.

I’m staying with you.

You don’t have to care about me, but I care about you too much to pretend that I don’t.

Your hand twitches in his, fear and uncertainty rearing their ugly heads when your heart flutters in response to his words. “How do you know?” Your voice is timid, broken by embarrassment, hoping that there’s anything he can say that will calm the trepidation in your soul.

He doesn’t even look at you. “Do you want to stay with me?” Easy. Firm. Level. Like he already knows your answer. Like your terminal inability to hold your tongue around him has given him all the confidence he needs to confront your fears and quiet them.

To you, his question isn’t even a question.

It requires no thought.

He is solid and stable against you, the embodiment of comfort and refuge.

“Yes.” It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever said. Yes. Yes, you want him. Yes, you want to stay with him. Yes, he’s the one you would risk everything for.

And you would, if he gave you that chance.

He sucks in a slow breath. Despite knowing what you would say, to hear it out loud is absurdly thrilling. “That’s all it takes,” he tells you. “I’m not going to pretend that you and I are strangers, talking about exploring going on a first date and hoping it works out. Tonight—last night—took us farther than that. I know you better than that. And I know that I want you next to me for whatever comes next.”

The things you learned about him from his brothers ricochet through your thoughts—how he’d been silly and exhilarated with blossoming feelings for you, making the guys laugh and enjoy his boyish excitement and nervousness, how he’d gone to them with trivial uncertainties, like if he’d said something dumb or if they thought you might be interested in him too.

That’s not the man sitting next to you, not where it matters. He’s sure. Steady. He knows you and your thoughts and your fears now better than any of the other guys’ clueless perceptions of you. He knows you return his feelings. He knows you’re scared of them. He has your hand in his like that’s where it belongs, and goddammit if you don’t believe him.

“Yeosang,” you turn your head to look at him, drinking in his profile, memorizing the lines of his face, cementing the exact shape of that little mark in your mind until you can see it with your eyes closed.

“Hmm,” he meets your eyes, and there’s nothing but quiet assurance there.

What are you even afraid of?

“I’m sorry I made fun of your coffee date idea. It was sweet. I would have loved to get coffee with you.” It should have been said with fondness and promise, but knowing how much thought he had put into choosing that date for you, your voice is only filled with remorse.

A smile cracks across his face. His thumb sweeps over the top of your hand. “How about you let me make you coffee instead?”

Your eyebrows lift. It sounds so domestic, like you’re making plans for tomorrow morning as though you’ve been doing it for years. “Can you even make coffee?”

Damn your inability to have a vulnerable conversation.

But he doesn’t seem annoyed, rather blinking once in pause. “I’ll learn to make coffee, and then I’ll make some for you.”

You snort. “I can make it.” That’s a lie. “Actually, all I have is instant coffee.”

His head falls back against the tree like he’s in pain. “Oh my God.”

“No, wait, I’m out of instant. I can offer you a glass of milk and some stale Oreos.” You really need to reevaluate your pantry situation if you’re going to be sharing meals in the future.

Yeosang groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sugar.”

You just shrug. Most of your food expenses are vending machine lunches eaten over well-worn scripts.

“First thing, when we’re out of here, I’m taking you shopping.” He tells you.

“You know, usually when guys say that, they don’t mean grocery shopping.” You remark lightly.

That gets a chuckle out of him. “You need groceries. Lots of them. Real ones, not packaged in tin cans.”

Something occurs to you with a disappointing start. “You know, I don’t think I’m actually gonna get paid for this program.” Shit, you don’t have any money. You’re gonna have to sign up to teach acting classes just to make rent—which is something you’ve done far too many times to count.

Maybe there’s a weekend seminar coming up that needs teachers.

“I’m taking you shopping.” He repeats with inflection.

“Now hold on, I’m not your charity case. I’m not letting you pay for stuff, I can handle my own living expenses.” You frown at him, flooded with feelings of inadequacy and embarrassment at your inferior financial situation, but he just shakes his head at you.

“You’re not my charity case, but you do need groceries, and I’m going to personally make sure you get them.”

You want to argue with him, but you do need groceries and you can’t properly afford them at the moment. It’s better than giving Jimin more reasons to call you his sugar baby, and at least if Yeosang is offering, you can find a way to make it up to him. “Fine, but don’t get used to it.”

“Okay,” He says, with not an ounce of conviction. He meets your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “And you’re definitely getting paid for this program. Like I said, zombies were in the contract. You did nothing but deliver.”

“Oh my god.” It’s your turn for an exasperated groan. “That’s only assuming we don’t have to flee the country.”

“Not to bank on a bunch of evil people dying horrible deaths, but there’s still hope.” Yeosang shrugs, and when you drive your elbow into his ribs he groans dramatically and slumps over.

“Oh god, Yeo—” For a minute you think you might have actually hurt him until you realize that he’s shaking with laughter, not pain. You elbow him again. “Don’t do that, Jesus, you scared me.”

He just pulls himself upright, still laughing. “Sorry.”

You’ve never heard anyone sound decidedly less sorry.

Soft conversation hums from the other guys throughout the group. Hongjoong and Seonghwa are still talking about meals, deciding if they want breakfast or dinner foods. Jongho and Jimin are debating chartering KQ’s private jet (Jongho’s argument) versus sneaking onto a cargo ship (Jimin’s argument) to get away from the government. Wooyoung and San are snoring quietly, slumped against each other, completely knocked out.

It’s not everyone. There are so many people missing, so many cracks in your heart as you count heads and scan faces.

So few of you had survived that stupid program.

But the ones who are here are okay. They’re safe. They’re happy, as much as they can be. If nothing else, they’re capable of being happy and whole and normal when this is over.

You made it.

You survived.

Your soul is bleeding with the ripping away of your family, but you’re not in this alone. You didn’t lose Jimin. You didn’t lose these people, who somehow came out of this wretched experience with the two of you in tow, like they’ve adopted you into their family and have no intention of leaving you behind with the memory of this hell.

This could have been so much worse.

You have one more question. Only one more —one that you don’t think can be answered. Not right now.

But your heart aches with the pressure of it. “What if I’m just a reminder of all of this?” The words fall off your tongue with debilitating weight. Because you will remind him of tonight. He’ll never forget what happened tonight.

None of you ever will.

“All I see when I look at you is my future.” Yeosang meets your wide eyes, glancing at the shocked flush on your cheeks with a satisfied smile. “I get to be cheesy, I’m a songwriter. But I mean that, by the way. This will always be in our past. I can live with that if my future is with you.”

It should be cheesy.

It should be the sappiest line anyone’s ever given you.

But you’re searching yourself, eyes pricking with tears, chest thick with warmth, and all you find are the same words inside you. If your future is him, you can bear tonight.

It’s allowed to be the sappiest shit you’ve ever felt, because you almost didn’t live long enough to hear it.

“You’re right, you are cheesy.” You say, even though tears are slipping down your cheeks in direct opposition of your cool response.

He brushes them away with gentle finger tips, and then his lips are warm against your cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.” He kisses your face again, the words whispered softly in your ear. “I promise, it’s all going to be okay.”

You have to drop your face, overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion and the utter safety of his presence that completely encompasses you. You press your lips to his bare shoulder, wishing you knew how to tell him all the things that are bursting inside of you.

His arms wrap around your waist, the way they always seem to. He lifts you gently to sit between his legs, letting you lean back against his chest instead of the gritty, scraping texture of the bark. “Try to rest, Sugar.” He says against the curve of your throat. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Wrapped securely in the heat of his embrace, his heart pounding steadily against your back, you’ve never fallen asleep so quickly in your life.

A hand cupping your face startles you awake. The sun is high above you, warming your skin, shining bright light of day down on the forest around you.

Yeosang says your name, sweeping his thumb across your cheek. “Sugar, they’re back. Are you with me?” His hands move to rub up and down your arms as you slowly come back to yourself.

You feel like you’ve slept for hours. Stiffness throbs in your joints, your butt numb and aching from sitting on the hard ground for so long. The fog of exhaustion has lightened a little, and your eyes actually focus when you drag them around the movement happening in your group.

Wooyoung and San are awake now, on their feet, hurrying towards the edge of the tree cluster you’re hiding in. Mingi is sitting with Jimin, both of them craning their necks to see what’s happening.

Taegyeom is calm as he passes where you sit, rifle slung comfortably across his chest as he strolls by.

“What?” You sit up abruptly, clocking the excitement on Hongjoong’s face. “What’s happening?”

Yeosang puts his hands to your back to give himself room to get his feet under him, and he lifts you with him as he stands. “Woosung is back.” He tells you, keeping one arm strongly around your back until you get your bearings.

Looking into his face, you find him watching you with mixed curiosity and concern.

“He’s back? Is he okay? Is it…” You don’t dare to hope.

Your thoughts are scrambling to remember the plan, desperate to put the distant sequence of events in order.

They were supposed to come find you if they survived—but was that only in the event of everything else going completely up in flames? Or are they running? Are they hurrying back to you to escort you out of the country?

You can’t remember.

“Are they hurt?” You ask, trying to see through the trees. “What about the other two? Hajoon and Dojoon?”

“It’s all of them.” Seonghwa says, coming to stand with you. “Like, the Black Berets and all the enlisted men.”

Practically trembling with excitement, you turn back to Yeosang, gripping his arms where they fall around your waist. “What about the service station? It’s open now, right? Did we get any calls out?”

He’s nodding, pulling you closer, settling your weight against him when your bad leg buckles.

“Hongjoong and I went over there about an hour ago, as soon as they opened.” Seonghwa says. “We called everyone we could think of—they’re on their way and should be here soon. We just told them we got lost out here and needed help, and not to talk to anybody. They’re coming.”

They called for help.

People out there know you’re alive.

They’re coming for you.

“Oh my god.” You clutch tighter at Yeosang’s arm, both legs now weak beneath you. While you’re still trying to process the information, the fact that you’re so close to getting out of here, you hear the throngs of footsteps approaching your position.

“Are you okay?” Yeosang asks you quietly. “Can you stand? I can put you on my back.”

You’re shaking your head, too scattered by the conflicting hope of victory and the anxiety of bad news. If you have to pack up and start running, you’re going to need help.

But you have to hear the news on your own two feet. You have to face this, whatever this is.

“Not yet.” You let him support you, but no more than that. “Not yet, I’m okay.”

He helps you move closer to the outskirts of your little huddle until you’re standing next to Wooyoung and San, in full view of the entire army trodding in your direction, with Woosung in the lead.

“What’s the situation, hyung?” Taegyeom asks.

“What happened?” Wooyoung demands. “Is it over? Are they following you?”

“We had a front row seat to an utter shit show, that’s what happened.” Woosung utters with a weary sigh, coming to a stop in the middle of your group. “Those guys showed up shortly after you radioed it in, but by then it was too late. That whole field turned into a zombie outbreak. Those fucking parasites were everywhere.”

Hongjoong looks panic stricken. “Are they still out here? Are they loose in the forest? Holy fuck, it’s the end of the world.”

Seonghwa and Yunho are immediately restless, eyes on the ground, kicking at leaves and branches and bushes, as though the giant insects are going to burst out of the ground at any second.

You’re not so sure it’s not a possibility, yourself, until your gaze sweeps around the troops.

The soldiers are milling around wearily, falling into the grass with no apparent concern for an impending zombie apocalypse.

“They started popping out of the burning bodies and attacking the officers. When the reinforcements showed up, they were nothing but a buffet. Delivered like Door Dash right into the hands of those hungry fuckers.” Dojoon says. “I’ve never seen anything so disgusting.”

Hongjoong presses a hand to his chest and falls back against a tree trunk with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to hell for how relieved that makes me feel.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jongho mutters. “Adi-fuckin-os.”

Yunho smacks him right in the chest. “Don’t say that, dipshit, people died.”

“Bad people.” Jongho corrects him. “Bad people died.”

While a large part of you is weighing the same dilemma of unbelievable relief and somewhat heavy remorse as a result, you’re a little sick of letting yourself be a slave to guilt over things you can’t control. “They’re all dead?” You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it—not if there’s bad news to go with the good.

Yeosang’s arms tighten around you. Even now, he refuses to let you go.

“They’re all hamburger.” Woosung corrects you. “We spent the rest of the time blasting those goddamn bugs to smithereens, waiting around for them to come out of the dead ones. We burned the bodies. Of the officers and the parasites. They’re all but ash now.” He casts a sweeping gaze over your faces, ensuring that the same number of you made it here that escaped the school yard. “I hope you guys are ready to put on the show of your lives. It’s time to go public and go home. And remember—last night was the best night of your lives.”

Silence falls over your group.

They’re all but ash now.

It’s time to go home.

Best night of your lives.

It’s over.

“Oh my god,” Wooyoung breathes. “We’re going home.”

Woosung sits on a fallen tree, peeling his gloves off. “If you convince the world that nothing happened here, and if you convince everyone you know that you weren’t almost eaten alive.” He glances at Hongjoong. “You have a lot of work ahead of you.”

Hongjoong is already digging his phone out of his pocket. “We’ll start right now. I don’t want to give anybody any time to wonder what to do with us.”

Woosung hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got some of these guys bringing your vans up here. There won’t be any sign you were ever there.”

“Jimin,” you whisper, eyes flashing to where he’s still sitting with Mingi. He’s hunched over, palms pressed to his eyes, visibly trembling. You lurch towards him. “Yeo, please,” you don’t even have to finish your sentence.

He brings you to Jimin and helps you sit, crouching next to you.

“Chim,” you put your arms around your best friend and feel him throw himself against you, ragged sobs soaking into your shoulder. “Chim, we made it. It’s over.”

The forest around you comes alive with noise.

Wooyoung and San whooping with excitement. Yunho and Seonghwa laughing like all the tension and stress is just pouring out of them. Hongjoong frantically mumbling about posts and selfies and statements to release to the fans, voice trembling with exhilaration. Jongho barraging the Black Berets for more details, gleefully wringing them for information about the downfall of the men who did this to you.

“We’re going home.” Jimin rasps against you, laughter breaking through his sobs. “Oh my God, Sugar, we’re going home.”

“Yeo!” Wooyoung flies towards you with a shout, clearly intending to tackle his brother in a hug.

Yeosang glances at you, eyebrows lifted in question.

You’re smiling, blinking back tears, nodding for him to go. You’re okay. You’re all okay. All you want to do is see them celebrate.

You survived.

It’s over.

He touches your back, returns your smile with a toothy grin of his own, and then he’s gone, swept into San and Wooyoung’s arms.

“God, Sugar, I thought we were gonna die out here.” Jimin squeaks. He finally lifts his head, scrubbing at his face, and laughs at the sky. “Fuck last night and fuck those goddamn zombies.”

You don’t have time to join in the catharsis of cursing out the absolute hell you’ve just escaped, because Wooyoung and San have moved on to their next target, and now Jimin is crushed between them, helpless to do anything but cry with laughter as they squeeze him from either side.

You’re inadvertently pushed out of the group hug, but you don’t even care.

You don’t care about anything.

Hands catch you under your arms, and then you’re dragged up to face Seonghwa. He yanks you into a hug that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Thank you,” he says in a rush. “We couldn’t have done this without you. Shit, I’m so grateful for you, Sugar.”

You snort gracelessly into his chest. “You mean my zombie program that got us into this mess?”

He squeezes you tighter. “Girl, don’t even start. We’re all going for breakfast. I can’t wait for you to meet our team and everybody. God, we’re okay.”

Hongjoong appears next to you, looping an arm around you to join the hug. “Hell yeah, just as soon as we do an impromptu photo shoot. I need your help staging all of this, Sugar.”

You nod, easing yourself out of Seonghwa’s arms. “We can play the injuries off as horror makeup and prosthetics. If we make it fun and silly and talk about your upcoming episode, then we can go get you cleaned up and into fresh clothes and you can put out some more detailed content.”

Hongjoong is taking notes on the phone, already putting together concepts for solo and unit selfies. “Jeez, I don’t know if I remember my Instagram login. We’ll have to get our phones too. As soon as the vans are here we can do more.”

“We can do lives later, but they’ll notice we’ve still got scratches on our faces.” Seonghwa worries.

You wave off his concerns. “I have amateur makeup skills. I can cover up the scratches if I get a kit from one of our vans. As long as you cover the big bites with clothes, I can make sure no one notices.”

“Some of our fans are scary good at analyzing our content.” Hongjoong says, frowning. “What if they see the makeup?”

“Jimin can manipulate the footage so it looks grainy or choppy, like you’re filming on bad internet. We can cover you until they heal up.” You promise, touching his shoulder reassuringly.

His features loosen and a smile breaks over his face. “Okay. Good.” He turns away from you. “Wooyoung! San! Come over here and pretend you hope to get eaten by zombies again!”

While he trods off to orchestrate the first of your public cover-up, you scan the crowd. The forest is packed with soldiers, your friends dispersed throughout them at random. Jongho is still sitting with Woosung and Hajoon, Taegyeom and Yunho have gone to greet the arrival of the vans as they roar up the road towards the service station.

You can’t believe it’s over.

You’re gonna have to buy a new phone to call your mother.

As soon as you have a phone, any phone, you can arrange for a mobile triage unit to set up at your company to treat all of you discreetly, since they won’t publicize your company until after the episode is released. Nobody should be watching your building, as long as you can make it happen quickly enough.

Oh god, you’re gonna have to write a new zombie program for them to have an actual episode to release.

Fuck your life.

It’s going to be in your building, in the middle of the city, far away from the military, as short as possible, and intentionally the worst program you’ve ever written.

You hope they laugh all the way through it.

Your name reaches your ears and you turn, finding Yeosang pushing through the crowd to get back to you.

He collides with you with an exhilarated laugh, stealing you right out of Seonghwa’s arms. “I promise I’ll still take you to Vienna and Venice and wherever else you want to go but can we stay home for a bit first?” He teases, swaying you together.

Home.

You’re going home.

You can’t even give him an answer.

You tug him down and meld your lips to his, right there in front of everybody. Yeosang drags you against his chest, meeting your kiss with every ounce of fervor that you give him.

Seonghwa gives a shout of surprise, and somewhere you hear Wooyoung hooting at you, but you don’t care.

When you can breathe again, Yeosang rests his forehead against yours and smiles down at you. “Is that a yes?”

You kiss him again, soft and sweet, and he melts against you.

Your heart is singing.

Life may suck as soon as this moment is over, when you have to get work crafting the most important story you’ll ever write, a story that has to save your lives, but for right now, you’re completely alive.

“Let’s go home.”

< last chapter | masterlist

tag list :

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

hello, and welcome to my blog <3

trigger warnings before you continue reading: swearwords

My name is Jamie! <3

Other names I go by are Alfie and Aspen, and occasional use of those names will pleasantly surprise me and probably make my day :)

I am a teen, as in a M-I-N-O-R, so keep that in mind while interacting with me and my posts!

I am transmasc nonbinary and I use they/them pronouns atm. I don’t mind y’all using gendered words such as “bro”, “dude” and “girl” when talking to me.

Lmk if you don’t want me to use gendered words when talking to or about you, but do not start fights with me because I use gendered words about other people. I’ll try to keep y’all’s preferences in mind at all times, but just a heads up, my memory is the WORST! So please have patience with me if I occasionally forget about our agreements :3

I’m just another big fat lesbian 🫡 #women #ilovewomen #ineedagfsofuckingbad #sendhelp

I am currently trying to get diagnosed with autism and/or adhd but it’s taking sooo long sob 🥲

My DNI can be found here, please read before you continue!

Now that we have all that out of the way, let’s move on to the good stuff, shall we?

Jamie’s music

Main fandoms I’m in**:

Stranger Things 💙💛

Heartstopper (both the tv series and the comics)

The Marauders & Co

Harry Potter

Arcane

** The links above lead to separate posts I’ve made listing my favourite ships and characters etc. in each fandom.

What to expect from my blog:

Sleep deprived shitposting

Regular shitposting

Gay yearning

A shit ton of posts about whatever I’m hyperfixating on atm (my poor lil moots can confirm 🥲)

Gay shit

Gay shit

Fandom shit (microfics, fanart, headcannons etc.)

Gay shit

Original poetry

Reblogs of whatever I find important or funny

Following this blog = signing up for having your dash filled with yapping sessions between me and my beloved moots btw. You have been warned. If you want to become one of those beloved moots, don’t hesitate to reach out to me btw, I love talking to new people on here :3

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My parent @meatybunger

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My other child @dragonfanplaugedr

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They’re not my irl family and partners btw haha

Shoutout to @atokirina-tsuki, the first person to follow me that day in June 2024! And to @homocidalpotat for always being there for me :3

AND TO @scarbleu FOR MAKING SURE I CAN WATCH NETFLIX AHAHAH I LOVE YOUUU <333

Tags I will be using are #jamstag (for literally everything I post) and #jam bleeds ink (for poetry).

Jamie’s sideblogs

I’ll try my best to act cheerful and happy on here at all times, my goal in life and on Tumblr is to make as many people as possible feel as safe as possible with me. I love recieving asks or dms, whether it’s from my mutuals or someone else, so go ahead and talk to me or tag me in stuff and whatnot! But I can’t guarantee that I’ll always have the strength to reply to stuff like that. Just know I’m not ignoring anyone, and I’ll reply to everything when I have the time and energy!

And guys, please remember that I’m always willing to chat with new people! No matter if you’re below or above 18 years old you can reach out, as long as you keep it SFW :)

If you have any questions about anything, feel free to dm me or send an ask my way!

1:35

What’s been playing in Jamie’s headphones lately:

[sinning-23]

Piercings (Sanji x Reader)

I’ve fallen down the one-piece rabbit hole and most likely have a new hyperfixation I don't care they’re all hot and I will write like my life depends on it. Anyway, ENJOY SOME SANJI 💃🏾✨

Pt.2 out now! (18+)

Warnings: flirting, heavy touching, mentions of needles, kissing omg so scary

You're leaning against the bathroom sink, trying your damdest to keep a steady hand while you try and slide the needle through the skin of your lip. This wasn’t your first rodeo, considering you have plenty of piercings from your past. Whether it was a manic episode, a silly little impulse decision, or one you'd been wanting for a while, you had them.

Being out on the ocean didn’t really leave you a chance to go and get them done by someone in a shop but you picked up tips and knew what to do for the most part. Besides, if you messed up, you'd just have a little story to tell about it later!

You focused, taking one swift, deep breath before letting the metal into your skin, moving calculated with the jewelry, eyes watching a bit from the shock. This one was a bit easier since you’d had them before and the holes had closed. Observing your face with a smile, satisfied with your work you exit the bathroom.

As far as you knew the only other person with a semi noticeable piercing was Zoro. And even though you two didn’t really bond over it, it was something you had in common. Nami had her ears pierced as well but that was cause you'd offered when she mentioned wanting them. Commotion from the kitchen slows you down and you can’t help but let curiosity get the best of you. It was most likely just Sanji making something for lunch.

“Good morning!” You announce, making your way to the countertop to take a seat.

As predicted, Sanji was focused on his craft, hands moving from different ingredients to one big pot and two smaller pans steaming away behind him. Nami waves and smiles in response as Luffy follows behind her, snatching up an orange before smiling your way.

"Good morning Y/n!" Luffy beams, the kitchen falling in silence once again when the pair leaves.

...does this mf not see you sitting here all pretty?

"Good morning to you too my beautiful, wonderfully glorious, super sexy, absolutely adored y/n" You state, albeit a bit teasing.

He looks up for a moment, not missing the way you had rolled your eyes at the fact that he hadn't bothered to return the acknowledgment to you.

"Good morning chérie." He smiles, always intrigued by your chipper yet, slightly flirtatious attitude.

When you first arrived, it was really just to be an extra set of hands and someone with a rather extensive knowledge of islands. Not to mention pretty damn good with the locals considering you were a people person much like your captain. Anyway, Sanji tried his hand at the compliments and pet names, but you always returned them with quick wit.

In all honesty, it shocked him, and soon you were engaged in a mutual flirtatious game of cat and mouse. Pet names became hushed compliments and whispers in one anothers ear. Brief touches became prolonged and damn could you two hold eye contact. At this point, it was basically an eye-fucking starting contest.

You grin at him, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

Sanji paused for a moment to examine your face, four shiny dots along your lower lip, two on either side. He swallows hard, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. What a pretty mouth.

"New piercings?" He questions, turning away from you and back to the stove.

You give a quick, "mhm!" and hop off to hover beside him.

"Shark bites, I mean, we are on the open ocean so why not!" You explain, leaning against the stove for a moment before jumping back with a hiss. Leave it to you to get injured while trying to mess around and chat in a busy kitchen!

It's instantaneous when Saji turns to see if you're injured, his own coming to yours to observe the burn. It wouldn't be the first item he's asked you to not mess around in here while he's working but you were so damn hardheaded, he knew this. But you just couldn't help it!

Unbeknownst to him, being around him and seeing him was the highlight of your day. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't developed feelings for the flirt. But considering he wasn't just flirty with just you, but Nami too, you'd made plenty of excuses and reasons to back off, even toning down your flirting a bit, thinking that you were getting in the way of who he really wanted.

It always killed you on the inside little bit, thinking of how one day maybe Nami would fall victim to his charm like you had. She'd be the one to whisper things to him, the one to press kisses to his face in adoration maybe. It was an odd way to punish yourself and keep your distance, imagining unrequited love but hey, to each their own.

However, unbeknownst to YOU as well, Sanji had developed a old-fashioned crush. How could he not! He loved the teasing, if he was being completely honest. He loved how you stayed just close enough to him to make his heart beat faster. He'd be more than happy to have you closer in all honesty. Pretty face, pretty personality, witty, fierce, bold as hell might he add.

Not to mention shawty got a body on her- Sanji redirects his focus, looking up into those pretty (e/c) eyes.

Taking your hand he pushed it under the icy water from he sink a silence washing over you.

His hands are bigger than yours, littered with scars as he rubs circles over the top of your hand in comfort. You swallow hard, trying to distract yourself from how warm his grasp feels on your wrist. Gentle but warm, contrasting with the harsh water. He's focused, lips and teeth fiddling with a small silver sphere while he turns the water off and grabs the aid kit beside him.

"Sanji." You breathe out, searching his eyes and lips briefly.

"Stick out your tongue....please?" You ask, seeing him swallow hard, ears flushed red., heat spreading to his cheeks. He doesn't follow through with the request.

Using your free hand, you follow the curve of his jaw before using your thumb to slide down his lips. Soft.

"I'll show mine if you show yours." You offer, letting your tongue slide over your lips deceivingly.

He's got this damn irresistible puppy look in his eyes, his lips parking only a bit before he sticks his tongue out, the silver shining in the kitchen light.

You bit your lower lip for a moment, letting your tongue do the same, only for him to find that it was split. He stopped dressing your hand now, the pain greatly dulled with a new distraction.

"Any more surprise body mods I should know about?" Sanji questions, voice dripping with desire.

Keeping your distance was a joke at this point because you'd be damned if you did have your lips on him within the next 10 seconds.

"I could ask you the same. Though, you should take me out before you see what else I have on my body? Don't you think Sanji?" You whisper his name, testing the waters.

It doesn't take much else for him to lean forward, your lips connecting like puzzle pieces. It's a soft pec at first, but soon becomes hungry and consuming, his pierced tongue sliding over your split one. It's hotter in here, his body caging you in, your hands fighting between staying on him, or resting against the countertop for support.

The tobacco on his tongue is addicting, just as much as the way he makes a point to make you feel the small metal sphere. There's only a moment to breathe, but when you do your right back on each other, this time, finding more stability with your arms around his neck, and his hands at your hips, thumbs tracing just above the curve of your ass. And then he feels it.

"Back dermals. Impulse decision but the backshots are nice."You hum, pulling at his lower let gently with your teeth.

He groans, the grip on your hips becoming tighter when he dips his lips down to the skin of your neck, sucking for a moment in debate. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, his ears red as the color spreads to his cheeks. It's so damn hot in here.

"Backshots huh?"All takes is a whimper from you and he's back to work, the metal from his piercing sliding over your skin.

A look of horror washes over you before you can respond back, and you're pushing against him in a hurry. He opens his mouth to question what's wrong, anxiety seeping into his chest but before he can ever get a chance to overthink, you're already shouting.

"THE STOVE, SANJI! THE STOVE! ITS ON FIRE!"

____________________

LMK IF YOU WANN BE TAGGED IN PT.2

that one gets a little(a lot) spicier and uninterrupted by kitchen chaos and fire hazards

[rainbowchibbit]

Heyo op!! So recently I’ve been on Undertale kick again, and I’ve refound ur amazing Underfell comic series!! And I see that it got new chapters!

Which is crazy cuz I rmb reading this bad boy back in flipping 2019/2020 smth, so seeing it had updates was such a cool surprise!! But I noticed the newest chapter was released over 2 years ago, and was wondering if you’re ever gonna continue it? 😅

If not, that’s completely fine, obviously! No pressure, I’m just curious 😙

Agh sorry I keep forgetting to check tumblr. My brain is not here. I have a few asks about Soulfell so I’ll put them here too!

So as far as Soulfell goes I’m afraid I definitely lost steam, had art block, lost the hyperfixation, was moving, and ultimately I just couldn’t make myself work on it anymore.

That said, I did a poll a little while back to see if people wanted to know how it was gonna end and the plot I had planned and stuff. The consensus was yes!

With such a weight off my shoulders I immediately,… did nothing about it LNDKDKGJLFNDKD

But I do plan on doing a write up. I just have to organize my gibberish notes and make it all a little easier to read. I also had aspirations to do the animatics I had planned, and I might still try now that my life has calmed down a bit, but for now the only new Soulfell content will be the summary/plot I release at a later date.

Im rly sorry because I desperately wanted to finish it, I had big plans, and I didn’t want to drop yet another project, but as it took years and years to get through even the first act, I started to really feel the drag of it. I still haven’t fully remembered how to just draw for the sake of something that isn’t a Big Project. I ended up making big (less big) projects for my current hyper fixation too and I’m so bad at small project. KNDKGNGKDN

So anyway tl;dr no more pages but I’ll tell everyone what I had planned and a summary too!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello~!

So may I request a poly ghost face (from 1996) where they have an autistic trans!reader. Ik a lot (I'm projecting) the reader stims vocally by mimicking what they say, and they have a special interest (am like bugs, gore, sharks, dinosaurs, something around those lines yk? I feel like gore would fit) the reader rambles and rants Abt their special interest a lot! Just those kinds of things. I feel like you'd be able to capture this perfectly, thank you! Have a wonderful time zone :)

Poly Ghostface x autistic trans male reader

Headcanons

I always headcanon Stu as having something like ADHD, or just more hyperactive autism.

Been a while since I wrote about these two, huh? I’ve kinda missed em, ngl. Hope it’s alright I took some liberties with the hyperfixations :)

I can imagine that maybe you were friends with Stu when you were kids, because you were both “weird” in other people’s opinion. Stu because he was too hyperactive and could never sit still, and you because of your weird interests and how you were quite antisocial at times.

Time would pass, you guys would grow older. Stu would become someone popular, as his erratic and hyper personality becomes something others admire because he’s fun, whilst you stay being the weirdo with too much interest in medical texts, insects, and decomposition.

Neither of you meant to do it, but you would grow apart. Stu would get his new friends, specifically Billy, and you would stay by yourself burying yourself in your special interests. Its not strange to find you flipping through medical books or books about the horrors of war and medical malpractice. The more pictures the better.

When its not medical texts and war pictures with as much gorey detail as possible in the text and pictures, you can be found reading about death and the work of being a mortician, the way a body decays, and all that.

And when its neither of those things, you can be found looks at bugs, lifting rocks or moving trash to see what critters you can find. You have a sketchbook you like to draw in, three ones at that, one for each hyperfixation since you don’t wanna mix the information in them.

Its in the many niche medical books you learn about being transgender, and suddenly how uncomfortable you are in your own body makes sense. You don’t need any friends, or your families support to transition, that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You haven’t really had any real friends since you split form Stu when you were kids, and your creepy interests chase off anyone who might attempt to befriend you.

So, when you show up one day to school and openly tell people you are now a boy, no one really questions it, because why would they? You’re already weird, and compared to all your other quirks, being a boy is probably the most normal thing about you.

Through all these years you haven’t experienced as much bullying as you probably would have anywhere else, all thanks to Billy and Stu.

Stu because he still sees you as his friend in some way, and Billy because he’s fascinated by you. One day after you had come out, he walked behind you and saw you drawing detailed diagrams of top surgery in grotesque detail, and Billy has been hooked since.

At some point you and Billy would end up talking, one way or another. Maybe it was at the video store around Halloween one night, maybe the year Sidney’s mom died, and Billy would ask your opinion on the horror movie selection.

Youd grimace and say they sucked since the gore was so unrealistic, which Billy, the freak, would definitely ask into why you thought so. This would lead to you infodumping to him for a long time, going through multiple movies and explaining how its unrealistic and what would have made it better.

As infodumping goes, you don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there talking to one of the hottest guy at your school about fictional gore, until Randy has to tell you guys that the store is closing soon.

You end up getting real embarrassed about wasting his time like that, which Billy is quick to tell you that nothing was wasted because he loved talking about it with you and hearing what you had to say. He would love to talk again some time.

You don’t really believe him, until he searches you out the next day in your shared free period when you are sitting outside drawing bugs and beetles, dragging Stu with him of all people. You haven’t actually interacted with Stu in a while, so you cringe and get jitters when he hugs you and gets into your personal space.

Its Billy who has to remind him of personal space, and before you know it, they’ve asked in about your special interests, and then they just sit back as you infodump and show them the pictures and drawings you have in all three of your sketchbooks, making the two Woodsboro killers fall for you harder and harder.

Time would pass and you three would start spending a lot of time together, Billy and Stu always hanging around you to listen to what you have to say, never growing tired no matter how much you infodump.

Stu would be the first to confess his feelings, as he feels fast and he feels strong, so one day when you two are laying on his bed and you’re talking about the difference between two beetles who look almost the exact same, whilst also talking about lungs and how they’re built, Stu just leans over and kisses you.

You would be so confused, until Stu tells you that he really likes you, he would even spill the beans that Billy feels the same way too. As if summoned, Billy would show up and Stu would be all like “right Billy? You like him too, right?” and Billy would facepalm cuz he planned on confessing in a much better way.

But hed agree and say he fell pretty damn hard for you, but neither rushes you in your decision as they know it’s a big step. I can imagine Stu also rambling about how hes always liked you since you were kids, even before you transitioned, and how he actually started liking you even more afterwards because you looked so much more comfortable with yourself and who you were.

At some point you would come to the conclusion that you felt the same way, and boom, now you got two boyfriends who like you for who you are, and would stab a bitch if they tried to disrespect you in any way, shape, or form.

When the ghostface killings happen, you wouldn’t be at the party since they are super overstimulating, but you would go to the hospital to check on Billy and Stu since they are the only “survivors”.

I thought it would be funny if you developed a special interest in the ghostface killers and started a fourth sketchbook filled with your notes and theories, but you would keep it hidden form Billy and Stu because you fear it would trigger their trauma, since you don’t know they are the killers.

The fourth sketchbook would also have rants you can’t put anywhere else, like how certain people have hatecrimed you because of your gender, or because you are “weird”, and how some dark sick part of your brain wants the ghostface killers to kill them.

At some point your boyfriends would find the sketchbook and go through it together, whistling as they see the detailed analysis made for each kill, and how you are so close to figuring it out. But when they read all the stuff you’ve written you never told them, it angers them that people have been hurting you without them knowing.

You wouldn’t have told them since you didn’t want to worry them, and it wasn’t their fight in your opinion. Billy and Stu decide that they have to pull out the masks once more, seems they have a couple of horrible people to get rid of for mistreating you.

Imagine your surprise when one night you walk into your room stimming with both your hands and repeating stuff that Billy and Stu said earlier that day, only to find not one, but two people wearing ghostface gear in your room.

It takes you a little too long to even spot them as you were scribbling in your death sketchbook, having gotten a sudden spark of inspiration on the way home from your apprenticeship as the local funeral home.

You almost get to scream before they pounce, never actually hurting you but clamping a hand over your mouth, their gloves wet with what you can smell is blood. After they make you promise to stay quiet, they unmask and reveal who they are.

You buffer like an old computer for a little too long, before smacking the shit out of both of them, wacking them in the chest for not telling you. Your opinion on death and murder are probably really twisted, and the people they’ve killed have either hurt you or you had no relationship with them.

It does light up every light in your hyperfixations though, and you might demand them to explain what killing someone is like, or what a freshly killed body looks like for your sketchbooks.

Billy would grin and try to kiss you, because how can you be so perfect? But you’d wave him off with a grimace and demand Stu explain once again what it was like stabbing someone so you can get it all down in your book.

I don’t know if youd join them as a third Ghostface, but they might take you along every now and then, letting you roam the place after they’ve done their thing if the chance is there. I could imagine them taking pictures of things for you too.

I’m imagining them both dressed up as ghostface, except no mask, both kissing at your cheeks and neck and being all lovey dovey and almost purring, whilst you are sketching down the different pictures and notes about them.

They love you so much, its insane. You’re gonna have them hanging on you for the rest of your life, sorry man, I don’t make the rules. Even if you move to another city and start studying to be a professor or like, investigator for the FBI, they would go with you. It would even help them in their Ghostface work as you are an expert in them not getting caught.

[kaylatoonz]

I apologize in advance for the person I become when the next few sonic movie 3 trailer come out rather Amy excluded from the film or if some miracle she is in it.

I'm seriously considering taking a break from sonic after this years maybe move toward my other hyperfixations like trolls… maybe.

The constant hate and the need to “fix” a character that ain't broken is getting on my nerves. If it was just the majority or minority of the fandom I can probably get over it, but the writers/sega too!

I have experienced, hate and misinformation being spread about other series and characters I’ve liked but I never experience the amount of bull that is the sonic franchise/community when it comes to Amy Rose.

It tiring and disheartening to see Amy fans and sonamy fan get kicked down at their lowest or at their highest. Everytime I think things are finally getting back on the right track with Amy’s characterization they take another several steps backwards.

So here what I’m going to do for now.

I’m gonna try to finish the character sheets for movie Amy and metal AU and give a synopsis on what it’s about. (still might be a while since I’m working on other stuff).

The comic involving the AU will be on hiatus until I find motivation to do it again😓.

If I feel up to it after I’m done with the character sheets, I’ll continue drawing the other movie Amy au ideas.

As for the fanfic… hiatus for now, unfortunately. It’s just a one-shot but it's like pulling teeth to write this thing🥲. And the added fact that I am losing motivation for creating sonic content is making it harder.

Lastly, I’ll try to take a break from Twitter and maybe mute or block anything involving ” Amy is better off with her “obsession” with sonic Being removed because it was her only character trait now she can be a “good”character”😑(maybe on Tumblr too).

At this point, I’m gonna just skip shadow generations for now too. Most of the leaks made me more and more disinterested in the DLC. In a recent leak I heard that they might’ve removed any mention that Amy had involvement with shadow turning a new leaf.😤

Unless something really interesting happens in the shadow story I don’t think I want to see anything.

[yelenasburnbook]

Hello all! It’s been quite a while :) while I am still a part of the stranger things fandom, my hyperfixation has moved on to the thunderbolts movie (I know, I moved from one found family to another, what can I say)

I’ve seen thunderbolts 3 times now, and have been writing one shots like a madman, so stay tuned 💗

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

Prologue

A/N: Heyyyyyyyyyyy soooo I may have started yet ANOTHER series, I do still plan on finishing Yet I Still Bleed but my hyperfixation may have moved to squid games for a bit… So I hope you guys enjoy this one! I’ll try to get updates out as often as I can but I never know when I will stop or take a break. Hopefully with season 3 coming out this summer I’ll have more motivation lol. Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angsttttt, Series is Gi Hun x In Ho x Reader but this specific chapter is Sae-byeok x reader, also: Reader takes Ji-yeong’s place but isn’t Ji-yeong, but you’ll see what I mean when you read!

Word Count: 1,386

All dividers by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

There were countless things you could blame for your failure. The lights were too bright, the neighborhood scene too jarring. Even that you were still exhausted from fighting for your life only an hour before when players turned against players. But that would all be a lie. The real reason you lost was emotion. Something that had always gotten the better of you. And now it was why you were going to die.

“It’s Sae-byeok.”

“What is?” You had asked, looking at Player 067 in confusion, the marbles in your pocket suddenly feeling heavier than before.

“My name. Kang Sae-byeok.” You felt yourself sigh internally as your choice became more complicated. Would she remember you when she won?

“Sae-byeok.” You rolled her name over your tongue, finally having a name for the first person you had met in the room full of beds. “It’s pretty.” You shot her a shy smile which she didn’t return. Probably too lost in the situation at hand.

“And you?” She was as cold as ice as she usually was, but deep inside you saw a small sign that she may have begun to thaw.

“L/n Y/n.” You answered confidently. As if the action of claiming your name was enough to give you a legacy before dying.

“Who should go first then?” Sae-byeok asked, as the two of you stared at the brick wall with small green vines twisting towards the artificial sunlight.

“It should be your turn.” You said stiffly. “Since your number is lower.” You reasoned out loud, putting into play the plan you had begun while sitting on the stairs with Sae-byeok.

Two triangle guards moved closer as you shifted your weight from leg to leg, they were no doubt waiting for the outcome of the game, waiting to shoot you.

As Sae-byeok shuffled forward, your eyes fluttered shut quickly and your hands shook. ‘This is for the best.’ You had to remind yourself. ‘Sae-byeok has a brother to take care of, a family to go home to.’

You shook your head slightly, knocking yourself out of your moment of fear as Sae-byeok’s marble rolled about 4 inches from the wall. A good throw. She turned and gave you a somber look before allowing you to take her place.

Time seemed to stop as you second guessed your plan. After this there was no turning back, no second chances. But you had no one to go home to and she did. You thought back to when the two of you had first met when they served the measly meal made up of rice and fish and how you had clung to her throughout the games, trusting that she was a survivor. And she is a survivor. So she would survive this.

You took a deep breath, before allowing the marble to fall from your fingers directly below you and stood tall, projecting a confidence you didn’t have.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Sae-byeok exclaimed, shoving you against one of the walls of the houses.

“I lost. You won.” You said simply, giving her another small smile.

“Stop it. Why the hell would you try to do that?” She yelled at you, showing more emotion than you had seen her ever show before. Perhaps she truly did see you as a friend after all even if she would never admit it out loud.

“Hey, I’ve got butter fingers. What else can I say?” You joked sadly, watching as the guard who had been observing you reached up to his ear and stood eerily still. You shifted your glance back to Sae-byeok, wanting to commit a familiar face to memory before you go. A face that you had been a blushing, sweaty mess around, but one that would remember you.

“What you said…” She paused, looking at you with quiet devastation in her eyes as she spoke. “...making sure that I won. Is that what this is? No. Take another throw, try again.” Her sadness changed into determined anger as she let you go.

“And I still wouldn’t be able to win.” The thought left your mouth before you could stop it. Not that you would’ve. “Let me make this choice.” You begged softly.

“Y/n that’s bullshit! Stop acting sentimental and just do a real throw!” She shook you again roughly, probably trying to knock some sense into you that wouldn’t come but you only huffed out a small laugh.

“We promised to tell each other our secrets, didn't we?” You repeated your promise to her as her eyes watered.

You wanted to tell her, probably should tell her that your heart skips a beat when you are around her, that your hands grow clammy when she talks to you, but you couldn’t. “My secret is, is that I have nothing.” You said instead.

“What?”

“You have a reason to get out of this place but I don’t.” Your voice shook with emotion and you felt tears rise in your eyes.

In any other situation you would try to block out Sae-byeok’s shaky breathing, the pain written on her face, but since you were about to die. You found yourself soaking it all in, trying to make your last moments with the woman you played the games with last. The woman you cared about and if you had the time to truly know each other, the woman you may have loved.

“I’ve thought about what I would do… if I won.” You blinked back tears. “No matter how hard I thought though, I’ve got nothing.” Nothing without you.

“The one who needs to survive, who has a reason to get back out there, that’s what’s right.” Smiling through your tears you nodded again. Your heart slowly breaking as tears roll down Sae-byeok’s cheeks.

“You can do this.” You continue encouragingly. “Don’t die in here, okay?” You wanted her to promise. To swear that she would survive and be happy. “And go…” You sniffled loudly before continuing. “... Go meet your mother. Go get your brother. And go to Jeju Island.” You let out a chuckle at that last sentence, a real one.

“I will. I promise you I will Y/n.” Sae-byeok reached for your hand and gave it a quick, tight squeeze before she choked out a small sob. Then silently stepping back and collecting the marbles you had thrown earlier. A triangle guard gestured to the path through a paneled gate, which she paused after walking through, turning to look back at you with pain written all over her face.

“Thank you L/n Y/n. Thank you for playing with me.” You appreciated her support, the fact that she wasn’t going to let you die alongside people who you didn’t know, who didn’t care for you as she did in her own way.

And you found yourself not fearing what comes next, as the two of you made eye contact, you wanted the last thing you ever saw to be her eyes, the very things that had drawn you to her in the beginning. But you weren’t even allowed that reprieve.

The gate swung shut in front of Sae-Byeok, the thick wood it consisted of leaving no way for the two of you to see each other and your heart plummeted as the triangle guard next to you raised his gun slowly. Your ears began to ring and you could vaguely make out a strangled cry from beyond the gate, that couldn’t be Sae-byeok… could it? So raw and full of emotion?

Tears fell down your cheeks in quicker succession as you swallowed your fear and prepared for darkness to consume you.

When the gunshot rang out, the person banging against the gate froze. Her cries silenced immediately, turning into choked sobs.

“Player 240 eliminated.” The loudspeaker cheerily spoke, and you took a shuddering breath, stunned as to why you were still breathing. But before you could call out to her, could even question why you weren’t full of holes, two strong arms gripped you tightly, pressing a damp chemically smelling cloth to your face and pulling you towards the sandy ground.

It was then, thrashing in a panicked craze in the second triangle guard's grip that you finally succumbed to the darkness you had expected. Only it appeared that they planned for you to wake up again.

Hope you all enjoyed! I’m not the best at writing angst but hopefully this turned out good. 

Tag List 🏷️

Let me know if you want to be added!

[sky-byte2007]

More shark facts for my Sky-Byte headcanons!

They’re mostly just add-ons from my previous post though :3

So an add on for when I talked about shark vision is that high contrast colours are what attracts them the most. More specifically (according to the NOAA or the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) yellow, white, and silver seem to be the colours that attract sharks the most. Now I find this super adorable for Sky-Byte because Jetfire’s colour scheme literally matches that description.

Also side note but I feel like Sky-Byte would love anything colourful in general, and he would own it. I mean I did headcanon him to be an artist lol.

Speaking of senses, sharks also have a lateral line which is present in lots of fish species. This specialised organ helps detect movement around them which is why schools of fish are able to move around seamlessly without running into each other :D!!!

Sharks also have a network of electrosensory organs known as the ampullae of Lorenzini (named after Italian physicist and ichthyologist, Stefano Lorenzini who described them in 1679) that enable them to detect weak electric fields of nearby animals/prey. Essentially they’re mucus filled pores that look like little black dots around their facial area. Sky-Byte would essentially be overpowered.

Very random but why am I imagining him with like small black freckles on his face 😭?

Another thing I kinda forgot to mention was the sensitive areas of a shark. If any of you ever saw notices or videos on how to drive a shark away, then you would know that a shark’s weak points are their eyes, snout and gills since they’re what render a shark vulnerable. Basically punching Sky-Byte in the face would really hurt him (poor baby 🥺).

Silly Great White shark fact! Because of how incredibly curious they are, they often partake in a behaviour known as spy hopping. Spy hopping is when the shark pokes their head out of the water to see what’s going on up above. They are also known to breach, or jump out of the water, at a height of 10 ft or 3.048 m!

My shark hyperfixation is about to explode. I’ve been ill for almost a week now, and they’re all I can think about 😭. Send help (and sharks).

[destiny-in-the-universe]

and we are back on the hyperfixation train-

seriously i cannot stop with the never-ending brainrot when it comes to randy cunningham so, if anyone is genuinely interested in seeing more rambles about this show because honestly the gears are turning lol, both due to my incoming crossover and just- things in general?

it’s late, the ideas aren’t flowing as well as i’d like right now, so in the meantime have a series of random headcanons

RC9GN Headcanons

~ Since magic is a thing in the universe, I’ve always envisioned that creatures from Japanese folklore/legends/etc coexist with humans- however they mostly appear in other plane of existence and don’t interact with mortals at all- i know this doesn’t make sense yet but it will,, when it’s not past midnight lol

~ I’m firmly convinced Plop Plop and Howard could be part of the same bloodline (Howard is 100% a descendant of Plop Plop, this is just canon lol i was there i was uhhh, howard’s shirt /lh)

~ this is practically canon but Plop Plop is?? practically immortal?? Could the same apply to the First Ninja? (because he’s now just sort of in the nomicon- like is he technically immortal bc his soul’s trapped in it so to speak)

~ ADHD Randy. Like how could he be anything but? I mean look at him

~ Julian is 100% some breed of ND, as is Howard. I make the rules this is canon now

~ Can I please just have the idea that Randy continues the mantle of being the Ninja post-grad? Like, don’t mind wipe him i’m begging- but also, consider he does forget and then something happens where it triggers his memories back- could make an au out of this but not right now,

~ There’s no way half the characters are straight lmao

~ I just watched the reveal episode and I like to think Viceroy sabotaging the robot because, well, Randy’s 14-

~ absentee parents for Randy- like. how does he get away with half the things he does? where even are his parents

~ Howard clearly has abandonment issues. I seriously need this being a thing more often-

~ caretaker Howard- to what level would the suit protect Randy?? I genuinely think Howard patches Randy up whenever he gets injured bc of literal ROBOTS

~ Randy 100% has self esteem issues?? (living in shooblivion was a perfect example of this-)

~ Heidi also has ADHD

~ Adoptive Parent First Ninja. I will not accept anything less-

~ Randy is a summer child. Howard was born in winter-

~ Game Developer Howard? I need this

~ Randy is a bit of an artist. He can already play instruments- so I say let him know how to dance, maybe not an expert but he knows his moves; also, he can sing- he does vocals in his and Howard’s band

~ not really an hc but if i don’t get more lore for the tengu i might actually go insane lol (what is the connection between the ninja and the demon bird-)

~ so. Randy, this kid- istg if this wasn’t an episodic, lighthearted kids show, he would be so traumatized. ptsd for Randy

~ Asian Randy- I’m not sure which one just yet

~ another Randy hc- I need Randy being a descendant of the Norisu 9-

~ Theresa your crush on Randy is so freaking obvious-

~ SIR, hello?? Not exactly a headcanon but I swear to everything- Randy and Debbie are a disaster waiting to happen. The identity reveal has me screaming, and honestly I wanted more; aka I need a more angsty version of the same episode istg

~ am I the only seeing Mort pseudo-adopting Randy??

~ there will be more to come but not right now- this pup is taking a slumber,, they are eepy