#there is a difference between setting up a character

[yojeongin]

it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l

→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo

genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au

synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)

wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

part 1 | part 2

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol

‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.

Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.

Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.

With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.

At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”

Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.

The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.

That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles. 

“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.

When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them. 

So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.

“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving. 

Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh. 

“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang. 

It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.

“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”

Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout. 

Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.

“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance. 

He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.  

You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.

The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.

You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.

Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself. 

So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.

Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him. 

“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work. 

Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.

He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone. 

“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed. 

Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”

How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.

“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”

Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?

Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”

He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.

Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.

Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.

But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.

“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee. 

Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.

Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.

“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle. 

“Lunch with a special friend?” 

“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”

He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.

The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.

“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.

The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.

Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.

“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.

One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.

He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.

“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation. 

“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.

“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.

“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.

He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?” 

His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there. 

Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true. 

The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd. 

Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes. 

‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’

A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right? 

Hmm…

Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.

“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.

Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.

Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?

Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.

Pick up cleaners,

fix the leak in the kitchen

pick up order from cafe 7 dream

find a new car inspection place

pick up Venetia’s leave cake

Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.

Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?

Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?

God, no… he was being irrational again!

The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on. 

Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake. 

Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.

‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’

‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’

Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.

‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’ 

The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his. 

He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife. 

The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’

It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.

His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.

Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section. 

His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.

Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.

Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.

In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.

The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.

He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.

At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.

His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.

Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.

“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”

It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.

“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”

Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.

He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.

The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.

You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.

Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters. 

That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up. 

He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.

That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.

That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.

You're not her...

Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.

“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. 

“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.” 

Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do. 

“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.

Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that. 

“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember. 

Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect. 

“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?” 

“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”

Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.

Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.

‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight. 

A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?

No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.

But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?

Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine. 

01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.

‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.

The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.

He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.

With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.

‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.

‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘

00:59 at the time you began writing that.

He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.

He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.

Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you. 

The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.

“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck. 

Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically. 

That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.

Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.

It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.

Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.

“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.

Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.

He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.

You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.

Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.

On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.

With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.

“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.

“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.

“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.

The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you. 

His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.

Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.

Possession is the word he’s looking for.

His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them. 

Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.

The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.

Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.

“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.

You believe me like a God,

‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.

I’ll destroy you like I am.

Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.

His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.

“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.

His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.

Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.

Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.

“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again. 

Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.

His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.

“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.

In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.

“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.

“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.

“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.

To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.

The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.

To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.

Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.

Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.

“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.

With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.

But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.

After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.

Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.

Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.

It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.

“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while. 

Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.

Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.

The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”  

‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.

How selfish.

“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.

Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.

“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.

‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.

How selfish.

A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.

“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.

You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.

Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.

The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab. 

Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity. 

You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.

“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?” 

“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.

“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.

‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained. 

Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.

He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.

Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.

Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.

Misery loves company.

His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.

You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.

“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?” 

“Please…”

You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you. 

After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.

Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with. 

By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.

He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.

Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.

All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.

Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…

‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’

Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.

Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.

Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.

He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.

For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either. 

Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.

Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.

‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’

Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.

Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.

He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.

03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.

The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.

“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”

I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.

Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.

This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?

 ‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’

The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!

But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.

No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat. 

He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace. 

He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.

Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.

He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.

A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.

“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”

Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…

It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.

You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.

You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.

“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way. 

“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.

You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.

“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes. 

You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.

“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich. 

Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.

“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”

Fuck.

“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so. 

He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability. 

“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.

“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.

‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.

Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.

Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?

Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.

“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator. 

Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.

Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.

Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.

“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.” 

Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.

“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”

A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.

Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.

He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.

It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.

Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.

He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.

Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.

Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.

No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.

The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.

“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat. 

Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.

“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.

I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.

Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.

His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.

Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.

So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.

The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.

Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.

Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain. 

Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.

Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?

He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.

Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”

It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).

Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.

“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.

“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…” 

Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”

Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.

You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.

In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.

History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.

You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.

Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.

Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.

He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face. 

And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.

The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.

He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.

The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.

Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.

His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?” 

Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.

He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo. 

There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.

If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.

“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.

He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?

I’ll betray you like a man.

Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.

“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”

Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.

The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood. 

“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.

“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.

Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.

Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.

“I think we should take a break.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses. 

“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”

You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be? 

“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”

Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.

“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.

You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.

“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.

“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault.  You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”

Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals. 

Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.

You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.

“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed. 

“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain. 

"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down. 

Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.

He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.

Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly. 

“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.

With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.

He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.

‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’

Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.

You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.

if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !

join yojeongin’s taglist to be up to date with future work!

taglist: @haknyeonsju @seungjiseyo @theskzvibe @wonyofanclub @lovingvoidgoatee

[toriangeli]

Armand's red flags in 2.02

You know how people kept accusing Lestat of isolating Louis from his family? And then Louis actually kept visiting his family, so if Lestat was isolating him, he did a really shit job of it?

Yeahhh. Armand shows us how it's really done.

Disclaimer: Armand is my favorite, precious boy, and I will defend his right to be as fucked-up as he damn well pleases, but he is indeed very fucked-up. So don't come at me accusing me of being biased in favor of Lestat (and even if I was, so what? this is Tumblr, not BBC News). I love Lestat, I love them all, but Armand is my trash son and if he isn't horrifically fucked-up on the show like he is in the books, it's a massive betrayal of the complexity of his character and the logical outcomes of his background. He hurts, and like any creature in pain, lashes out because of it. He knows how to do all kinds of diabolical shit, but he doesn't know how to be a person, and that's why I love him (trying to remember who the Youtuber was who said, "No one's a hero, everyone's a victim" about this series because they were so right).

First off, Assad is truly phenomenal at creating this effect:

If you don't suspect Armand of the shit he's about to pull, it's not your fault. This is how he is. Part of it is real innocence, in a way, or perhaps an inverse of innocence--he doesn't realize this shit isn't normal.

So it's very striking to me how Armand laid the foundation for his relationship with Louis so subtly and early on. He approached Louis in the park while he was alone, Claudia nowhere to be seen even though his invitation was for her as well. Claudia would ask questions. Armand wants to dangle the carrot before any questions are fired off. By the time anyone in the coven actually speaks with Claudia, she is already sold on them all. There is no time for her to form suspicions. With Claudia on board, Armand has free access to Louis. She feels at home with the coven, so she's not watching Armand too closely.

Then at the Delacroix mansion, Armand warns Louis against the rest of the coven. He says "a few of" the coven members are unforgiving, though he doesn't say who, which would be useful information if Louis is to defend himself (spoiler alert: it's all of them), just tells Louis to close his mind to the others. So Claudia is with the rest of the coven, while Louis is available only to Armand. Armand does not give this warning to Claudia. The only person she can hear it from is Louis, who she won't believe. They're now spending time apart, weakening the link between them. Armand knows he can seduce the hell out of anyone he desires, and once he does that, all he really needs is to break the filament binding Louis to Claudia and he's got what he wants.

He also warns him not to contact Roget again, which is probably good advice, but what Armand knows that Louis doesn't is that Lestat is alive. And Roget is the one person in the world Lestat would be able to contact if he could. So in the unlikely event that Lestat gets the chance to call Roget, Louis will not hear of it.

In just a few sentences, Armand has managed to distance Louis from Claudia, Lestat, and everyone else in the coven.

And how does he do it? By making sense, basically, by preying on Louis' preexisting (and sensible) fears about the coven. It makes sense for Louis to be on his guard. But Armand has set it up so he appears to be "different" from the rest of the coven, the only one Louis can trust, while issuing vague warnings about everyone else. And while Armand in the book is a pretty hands-off leader with the TdV, don't think for one second he can't do anything to protect Louis and Claudia himself. Here, he's acting like he has no sway with these people. He does. No matter what he says, he does.

So yeah. I'm really impressed with how smart the writers are being about this so far.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

So with some of the takes I've been seeing in the Wandee Goodday tag, I wanted to share my perspective.

Just to note - I firmly believe art is subjective and what we see can vary a great deal based on our own perspectives and lived experiences. I'm not calling anyone wrong, I'm just saying this is my personal take on things. (I feel like this should be obvious, but nuance is so often lost online).

And my main goal with watching QL is fun and escapism. I'm here to have a good time. I tend to go with the flow, I like imperfect characters (I even like the fucked-up ones), and I trust the characterization and plot elements to be doing what they need to do until a problem shows within the narrative itself.

Ok, disclaimers done - here's my take on Dee & Yak's interactions around the fake dating idea.

I think all of their interactions are deeply affected by the degree to which they have already developed genuine feelings for each other, but are not yet in a place to admit it, even to themselves.

Do I think Yak has real concerns about being out as a boxer trying to hit a career high? Absolutely. But I think his quick jump to a "let's end this" reaction was mostly a kneejerk attempt to protect himself for what he felt when Dee, the man he is already emotionally connected to, and desperately wants to be able to kiss, dropped a request for fake dating over a real deepening of their relationship.

We don't yet know the level of societal homophobia this show is aiming for, BL land can go many different ways with this, but considering his brother's openness in the gym that he owns, training boxers, there is a tone being set. Yak literally holds hands with Dee in the middle of the street. He doesn't panic when people recognize him at the hospital. This may change, but I'm going to trust the signposts that his career concerns are valid, yes, but are not the dominant issue between them.

Similarly, is Dee competitive and overly focused on winning? Clearly. It's set up in his earlier conversation with Yak for a reason. But at the same time, his insistence that it has to be Yak is not just about his need to win - again, this is about genuine feeling. He wants Yak. This is a way to get Yak, and to frame it to himself in a way that feels less scary and vulnerable, especially after being hurt by Ter.

I know a lot of people saw Dee as being pushy. I do agree with that, and yes it is going to cause more issues for them in the future. But I wish more people also saw Yak holding firm to his boundaries and refusing to give in to the immature behavior from Dee, showing why he's such a good partner for Dee.

And sure, we haven't seen Dee support Yak as much so far, but the scene with the mother and child wasn't there just for kicks. Dee is empathetic and caring, and that will be important in his relationship with Yak as well. He is there for people when things are at their worst.

Some people see Dee on the bridge as being manipulative.

I saw Dee as finally cutting out the toddler shit and being emotionally real about why he's taking the scholarship too seriously, how sensitive he is to what people think of him, why Yak is someone he trusts implicitly, and how he knows it's not Yak's problem and it isn't fair to expect him to fix it.

Some people see Yak as finally agreeing to fake date as showing he is weak to emotional manipulation.

I see a man who has more agency than that. I see a man who is affected by seeing genuine vulnerability both because of how caring he is as an individual, and because of how much he wants a real emotional connection to Dee. And eyes-open, he makes a choice.

These are two characters who have never just been friends with benefits from the beginning. And the narrative has never been about what they are saying. It's about what they are feeling.

[snowyh2o]

Just a random thought about how Alastor and Vox must’ve been really good friends before everything fell apart. Because Alastor knows how to make a video ad, he knows how to set things up for a movie/video shoot, things that had nothing to do with his medium, that he probably learned how to do because of Vox, because he was willing to try and learn from or for Vox. And Vox literally welcomes Alastor back home when he finds out he’s returned, has literally counted the years Alastor’s been missing when no one else seemed to know, and fashioned his clothing style to match Alastor’s (assuming it’s not just a case of everyone gets a pinstripe suit!), uses the same techniques Alastor taught Charlie about how smiling can be a tool to keep you ahead of the game.

And how it all fell apart and it wasn’t just Vox that was hurt in the process. Because you can’t tell me the man who hates TVs and modern tech due to its association with Vox doesn’t feel anything for what friendship they had and lost. Who snarls at the mere sight of him on a screen (admittedly while also dissing Alastor), who went straight back to his radio tower to diss Vox right back (and absolutely crush him lol), before threatening him against taking action, privately, twice. Alastor’s just better at hiding how much it’s affected him, and doesn’t let the bitterness of what used to be consume his every waking thought.

And maybe that’s the difference between how they view their old relationship and how the fandom seems to view it. Alastor’s upset about it, sure. He’s bitter now about Vox and everything Vox represents because he’s a past friendship that failed, but he’s also moved on with his life. Vox hasn’t. Vox still obsesses over Alastor, in the way he dresses, the way he talks, how he presents himself. It’s all reminiscent of Alastor. And when he finds out Alastor’s returned, the first thing he does is draw attention to how Alastor’s back! Talk in a roundabout way about how much he’s missed him! Has wondered where he’s been? Sends a spy into the hotel to, well, spy on Alastor! And when that doesn’t work, Vox continues to stalk Alastor through his drones instead. (And then gets off on seeing Alastor get beat up.)

Vox very much has not moved on from whatever friendship they’d had before. He hasn’t moved on from Alastor. (Or from his heavily implied obsessive crush).

We don’t know what happened between them, aside that it’s complicated and sad, that they were friends, and now they’re very much not, and that maybe part of the reason why is because Alastor rejected Vox’s request to join his team (upend his entire life to partner with Vox, assuming Alastor always worked solo and what the Vees currently have is what Vox had wanted with Alastor with his request). We can assume maybe part of why they fell apart was because Vox wanted something more from his relationship with Alastor, something Alastor could not and did not want to give him. Or maybe they just grew apart, grew distant. Vox constantly upgrading and changing and keeping up with the newest trends, chasing whatever new Thing that’ll keep him relevant, while Alastor remained set in his ways because he’s not looking for the approval of the masses.

Anyways, all this to say: when I, and I assume most other OneWayBroadcast fans talk about one-sided radiostatic, it is specifically about how Vox has a one-sided romantic/sexual attraction/crush on Alastor, that Alastor does not return, that has now turned into a one-sided obsession over Alastor. Not that their entire friendship was completely one-sided. I think saying that Vox was the only one who was ever invested in their relationship is a rather bad faith interpretation of Alastor’s character, but also does not do their relationship justice at all. It minimizes Vox’s responsibility in the fallout of their friendship, and puts the blame only on Alastor. It takes away all the juicy complexities of Vox’s character, how he’s bad person who’s done and is doing bad things, and paints him as an innocent victim to “Alastor’s manipulation”.

That’s not to say Alastor was completely innocent in the fallout either. But I hear a lot more about how the fandom woobifies Vox in their relationship than I do Alastor.

[dollypopup]

I just can't stop thinking about Pen and Colin as mirrors.

Of the apology scene. I can't stop thinking about how Colin's so earnest, so different from his persona at the start. How he literally had lines to feed to the debutantes, to repeat, ad nauseam, vamping with each new player to the stage, but but how his conversation with Penelope is from the heart. How he responds to her 'you are embarrassed of me' with 'I am most certainly not ashamed of you' and her 'I am the laughingstock of the ton' with 'you are clever and warm'.

I'm thinking about how his voice speeds up after that to 'and I am proud tocallyoumyverygoodfriend', how it is so clearly genuine, how it makes so much sense that he is nervous, because she means so much to him, because it's not rehearsed: and then how she tells him it frustrates her that he can walk into society with ease. His face when she says that. . .I keep rewatching it. How he looks to the side. How he swallows. How he looks down.

How he could keep eye contact with her the entire time, except when she says that.

And then I contrast that to the scene in the Bridgerton house (which by the way? I'm swooning. He asked her where or what it was that made her feel most comfortable when they were at the market, and she said Sunday Teas at Bridgerton House, and mourned that she couldn't have them anymore. So he invites her there. So he sets up a refreshment table. So e sets the scene for her. It's not Sunday Tea, and it's not as it was, but here: there's a quartet preparing for a Parisian Quadrille, here, there's mamas perched on sofas, gossiping about the decor, here, there's a dance floor. She says she was at ease, indicated she isn't, and so he makes her smile. So he helps her unfurl.) where she tells him that "Deep inside, I know I can be clever and amusing but. . .somehow my character gets lost between my heart and my mouth and I find myself saying the wrong thing, or more likely nothing at all"

And he looks down, again. But this time, he looks right back at her. he connects with her immediately.

Because she's speaking to him. No, not with him, but to him. To his heart. To the insecurities he keeps hidden away. Speaking aloud how he feels. Mr. 'I had to rehearse that speech for hours', Mr. 'Living for the expectations of other people is a trap', Mr. Put on the Facade, Mr. People Pleaser.

And this is his face

It's such a small 'blink and you miss it' moment. It lasts barely half a second. But in that room, in that moment, with her. . . he feels seen. Colin who had to rehearse what he said to Jack, Colin who spent so much of Season 2 talking about his travels and everyone being annoyed at him, Colin who responds to 'Well it sounds remarkable' with 'Yes. . .remarkable. As in, I have many remarks about it'. Colin who knows how it feels to never have the right thing to say. Colin who empathizes. Colin who understands.

Not just understands her, but understands that she understands him, too.

They're mirrors.

Mirrors as in: I see you. I see the heart of you. I see the you that you try to hide, but you cannot hide from me.

Mirrors as in: you are my reflection. You are not me in exactitude, but ever so familiar, reversed. Where Colin is of such importance to the ton on the outside, his thoughts are unimportant. Where Penelope is of such disregard on the outsides, her thoughts run the entirety of the ton.

Mirrors as in: You help me see myself better. You see me kindly, you see me beautifully. Colin who refuses to let Penelope call herself stupid, or a laughingstock. Colin who will not accept her low self-esteem, because he sees her as more. Penelope who then begins to see herself as more, in turn. To recognize that she is more and always has been. If you can see me like this, surely I can too. Penelope who loves Colin's inner thoughts, who asks him for more of them. Who responds to his letters, who enjoys his journals, who sees the him behind a page and behind a falsified smile and says 'I like the real you', and so he can be the real him more and more often. Pen coming to the light externally, and Colin internally. Such ease with each other.

Mirrors as in: I see myself in you. You are familiar. Of the same heart. The same tenderness, us two dreamers with soft, bruised souls, shaped by each other's fingerprints. If I press my hand up to this glass, I can touch you, warm like me. Lonely like me but not lonely when we are together. Better with me like I am better with you.

Mirrors as in: I see myself in you. Tumbling and freewheeling, submerged in you, in your words, in your body, in your life.

I just can't stop thinking of Pen and Colin as mirrors.

[markrosewater]

I understand that there are things you can point to that are visible consequences of the Phyrexian invasion like story content and the deaths of Eldraine’s king and queen, but doesn’t it say something that you need to point those out as counter arguments to begin with?

The problem with threatening a Phyrexian planar threat is that the damage was implied to be irreversible. Compleation often involved grotesque surgical mutilation, so it doesn’t make sense that compleated characters could return to normal so easily and without any significant scarring. Phyrexian oil is supposed to be so dangerous that a single drop could eventually infect and corrupt an entire plane, so it seems impossible to eradicate. Even ignoring the resilience of the Phyrexians themselves, a large scale military invasion aided by the most powerful beings on each plane should have left those planes in a post-apocalyptic state, yet all of that seems to be off-screen or completely disregarded. We went underground for Ixalan, so we didn’t see the devastation. We went into the wilds for Eldraine, so we didn’t see the courts in shambles. Ravnica seems to be the same as ever, just with more detective hats. And the last set of the year that immediately followed the invasion takes place on a plane nobody even lived on during the invasion, so there were no consequences to show off.

I think the real issue isn’t necessarily that there weren’t consequences, but that you guys chose deliberately not to show them on cards, outside of the desparked planeswalkers and a few cards in Aftermath. As it is, it’s difficult to believe that the Phyrexian threat that was built up over decades could be so easily repelled AND completely defeated at the height of their power, but I would argue that the sets directly following the invasion should have all had a blatantly dark, somber, post-apocalyptic theme. Instead, we got a bunch of light hearted costume party sets that seemed chosen specifically to NOT show how much damage was done. I get that you want to have a tone shift after a darker year, but it just feels like instead of getting closure, we all just got whiplash instead. It would have been better to show a struggling multiverse slowly learning to rebuild before diving into the next big arc.

There's a big difference between did big things happen and do we need to focus on them? For the Vorthoses who read the stories, the Phyrexian War had huge consequences for many worlds.

From a game standpoint, it changed how we used a whole card type and allowed us to make sets we couldn't make before. The impact of the events of March of the Machine on flavor and mechanics was major.

The reason we didn't focus on the outcomes on the cards and have a year of dreary sets is we strongly believed the majority of the players didn't want that.

[amateurvoltaire]

The Deputy of Humanity

In August 1790, Robespierre, then deputy in the National Assembly, received a letter from a young man in Aisne. The subject of the letter was of little consequence in the grand scheme of things: the author was expressing his concern that the free monthly markets for grain and sheep in his village of Blérancourt might be moved to the rival village of Coucy.

The subject of the letter may have been trivial, but its author was not. Louis Antoine Saint-Just, not yet twenty-three, was quickly outgrowing local politics and had his eyes on debuting on the national stage. In around two years’ time, he would become one of Robespierre’s closest allies. But back in 1790, the young man only knew him “like God, through miracles” ("comme Dieu, par des merveilles"). This would be the first contact between the two men.

The letter has been widely translated, quoted, and speculated on. It is very well-written, with the effusive admiration and almost hero worship of the young man practically jumping off the page. Whether Saint-Just was entirely genuine or not is hardly consequential. Robespierre clearly found his admiration touching because he kept the letter until the end of his life.

The fact that Robespierre kept the letter is a sweet gesture that can be interpreted in a myriad of different ways. Perhaps he enjoyed the flattery, or maybe he wanted to keep a memento of the beginning of their friendship with Saint-Just. Maybe he simply forgot to throw it away. In my opinion, it's not very important.

What I find more interesting and revealing about Robespierre's character is that a young lieutenant colonel of the National Guard of the department of Aisne felt empowered to raise his provincial concerns to a deputy who wasn't even representing his constituency. Why would he do that? Setting aside Saint-Just's audacity and desire for recognition, the simple reason is that he knew he would be heard.

Since the days of the Estates General, Robespierre had not only been gaining popularity but was also notorious for standing up for the interests of the common man beyond his own province (later on department). For all the flattery, Saint-Just was right: Robespierre wasn’t only the deputy from Arras; he was “[the deputy] of humanity and the Republic (1)”. He frequently weighed in, as a dissenting voice, on matters of national importance, maintaining a consistent stance that always favoured the underdog. This was nothing new. His entire career in Arras had been built on helping the common man. On a national stage, he vocally continued that work.

He opposed the king's veto power over constitutional laws and emphasized the sovereignty of the nation over monarchical traditions. He also opposed the exclusion of "passive" citizens (2) from the National Guard and advocated for extending voting rights. All this, along with his defense of civic equality for various groups, including actors, Protestants, and Jews, solidified his position as a defender of the people.

Despite facing mockery from royalist publications and some of his peers, he remained steadfast in his dedication to the universal principles of the Revolution, with the most crucial principle being the sovereignty of the people. If the people are sovereign, then their grievances are significant. It's understandable that Saint-Just would reach out to him regarding the issue with the village market. He wasn't the only one.

For what it's worth, Robespierre probably didn’t intervene in the matter, but Blérancourt ultimately did retain its markets.

Translation (3)

Blérancourt, near Noyon, August 19, 1790

You who support the faltering homeland against the torrent of despotism and intrigue, you whom I know only, like God, through miracles; I address you, sir, to ask you to join me in saving my sad country.

The town of Coucy has transferred (so the rumour goes here) the free markets from the village of Blérancourt. Why should the cities swallow up the privileges of the countryside? Then, nothing will remain for the latter but the taille (direct tax) and taxes! Please, support with all your talent a petition that I am sending by the same mail, in which I ask for my inheritance to be joined to the national domains of the district so that my country may retain a privilege without which it must starve.

I do not know you, but you are a great man. You are not just the representative of a province; you are that of humanity and the Republic. Please ensure that my request is not scorned.

I have the honour of being, sir, your humble and obedient servant,

Saint-Just,

elector (4) in the department of Aisne.

Notes

(1) Here Saint-Just doesn't refer to Republic as a form of government, but uses the word as a substitute for nation/country. In 1790 France was a constitutional monarchy.

(2)Passive citizens were those who, for a variety of reasons (mostly tax related), were not allowed to vote. (3) The parts that are in bold, are underlined in the original . As usual, this is my own translation and you can surely find much better ones out there!

(4) Touchy subject...

(BONUS) The letter is Recto-Verso. The small red arrows in the image indicate where the back page starts. I edited the two sides in one image for ease of reading.

Source

I really like Saint-Just but his handwriting is just as bad as mine (yes. I can barely read mine either). The french text of the letter comes from:

Saint-Just, Louis Antoine Léon. Œuvres. Paris: Gallimard, 2014

[chemicallywrit]

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! School is out for me, so I can finally rest. Oh man. I needed the rest. It's great to sit there an not move, isn't it? And I got to listen to so many good podcasts this week as well, it really made the last week of school a treat. Let's take a look:

🍔 I feel like every new episode of @midnightburgr is a precious little gem, and this one is no different. I love getting to see pre-found-family Casper. You can't escape the found family, idiot, get cherished! It's been good to watch his character development throughout the show, and then seeing this little missing piece of it that he doesn't quite remember answers several questions about him. I love him. He's the worst and I love him. Alongside each of the three sisters, this season is promising to be absolutely fascinating.

📼 Oh The Magnus Protocol, you never disappoint. I want to run this episode by the teenagers I know to see what they think of it, because I understood what the influencer was saying, but I know many adults who absolutely would not. Like, I'm on this website. Meanwhile, Alice rejecting help is setting her up for something truly awful and I dread what her fate may be. It's delicious.

👻 @monstrousproductions's Travelling Light is often so soft and good--I neglected to include last week's episode on the AD Sunday write-up, like a FOOL, even though it made me CRY--but this episode settles into a gorgeous little ghost story that's honestly the logical conclusion of creative sentients in space. I loved it. On top of that, there's this tiny morsel of Óli's backstory that I am DYING to know more about. I can't wait for the next ep.

🪲 @cryptonature always hits just right, but this last episode was everything I want in the world. MOSS TIDE MOSS TIDE MOSS TIDE

🧛🏻‍♂️What a treat it is to listen to @re-dracula along with everyone this year. I am loving everyone's analysis and thoughts this go-round and I am once again appreciating the work of Ben Galpin and Karim Kronfli in creating just the most horrific character dynamic. I know droughtula is imminent, so there's still plenty of time to catch up. Join us, join us, join us--

✂️ In Hannah news, Inn Between is starting to wrap up for the season! This week brings the penultimate episode, which is definitely totally fine and won't bode ill for any beloved party members of the Lowlifes. We'll also see the last episode of "Run Rabbit" on The Dead, and I'm so pleased with my actors' work, so I can't wait to hear what the sound wizards have done with it.

Hey! This week is better than last as far as finances go--thanks to my beloveds for helping out--but if you like what I make or enjoyed reading this, would you consider leaving me a tip?

See y'all next week!

[utilitycaster]

i've seen some people say kipperlilly is neurodivergent but it's more them being like BUT THE RATGRINDERS ARE KIDS!!! and it's like yeah??? so are most of the characters in this show? it's set in high school? penelope everpetal is in hell right now? so idk why THESE kids are being treated differently

RIGHT.

I'm trying to answer a question about both the D20 discourse and the CR discourse but like. There is a post going around in the CR fandom about how it doesn't make sense to apply real-world morality to ttrpgs, which firstly is not entirely wrong but it's much more complicated than that and secondly and more importantly I'd take it way more seriously if it weren't coming from the people who threw a fit when I said that treating Imogen's powers as a metaphor for real-world queerness is reductive and stupid and who keep treating Orym's status as a guard as a member of like, the US Military. The real answer is "D&D settings have their own moral framework, and you need to make arguments based on those, rather than the real world, but there is often some overlap."

I think, as your post points out, this is one of those cases where you do need to work within the moral framework of the show. Penelope is in hell. It is a show about teenage adventurers. Two of the Bad Kids died in the second episode, famously. While I suspect they'd never cross the line of like, a serious romantic or sexual relationship between and adult and one of the high schoolers, in basically any other context the students of the Aguefort Academy are treated as children or adults based on, essentially, which is funnier. The way to get your magic GED is to battle monsters to the death. The way to graduate is to go on a full D&D adventure. It's normal for a high school senior to have access to like, Power Word Kill. The premise of this world is "D&D but in a John Hughes movie setting" and the premise of a lot of D&D is "killing your enemies is part of the story." Like, I've said this before (as has Brennan) but a big appeal of D&D is that you don't need to be patient and send a polite email and let the person who dangerously cut you off on the highway merge in because otherwise you'll get in an accident and smile through the microagressions (let alone put up with larger injustices); you can just straight up kill your way through problems and wake up the next morning fresh and refreshed with full HP and 8 hours of sleep behind you. You don't have to swallow your anger; you can cast fireball on a bitch. As I've also said before, if your entire table likes finding peaceful solutions in D&D, fine, play that way, but I came here to cast fireball and I find you preachy, boring, and stupid.

The rules of this world are "teens are full-blown adventurers and are treated as such." The Rat Grinders are on the same footing as the Bad Kids; there is no imbalance of power here (indeed, they even have the favor of some teachers themselves)! Yeah, if the Bad Kids were actually a bunch of 30-somethings this would play much differently but if they're their classmates? go off.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

You Hear That?

Week #4 Prompt: Camping | Word Count: 3850 | Rating: T | POV: Robin | Pairings: Platonic Stobin, Pre-Steddie | Characters: Robin, Steve, Eddie, Corroded Coffin, The Party, Nancy & Jonathan | CW: Language, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking | Tags: S3, Reluctant Camping, Unexpected Crossing of Paths, Platonic Stobin, Corroded Coffin Boys, Pre-Steddie, Flirting

This is set during the S3 finale. Happening between Starcourt and the "three months later" time jump.

"Camping. Capital camp. Lowercase…ing," Steve says, trailing off at the end, his forehead wrinkling up in confusion as he clearly tries to think through the dumb thing he just said.

"Well, that kinda fell apart on you, didn't it, dingus?" Robin asks, arching her eyebrow in his direction.

"Shut up. You know what I mean. Camping! Fun!" Steve shouts, far too close to her face.

"Back off, Boogaloo. And I beg to differ. Camping is not fun. Camping is torture, and I'm not signing up to be tortured with you again. One and done, at least per summer, that's my official policy."

Steve gives her the eyes, but they aren't gonna work. She's immune to his wiles. The Harrington Charm doesn't do anything to her loins, unfortunately for him.

"No," she says, and that's that. End of discussion.

Three hours later, here she stands, right in the middle of Hunting & Camping, a store in town she never thought she'd ever have to step foot into.

"Steve, you know what lives in those woods. Do you have a death wish?"

"C'mon! There's been nothing, nada, since Starcourt. It's done. Over with. Gone. We can live our lives, go camping, anything we choose."

"Great. But we do not choose camping," Robin insists, "We aren't camping people, are we? There's no haircare in the woods, Steve. Think about that. Long and hard."

"Fine. You stay here. I'll go camping alone," Steve says, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You're not going camping alone!" she screeches, because he'll be killed for sure.

"You're right, I'm not. The kids are demanding to come along. So, it's me and Jonathan."

"Well, that sounds fun for the both of you. Who will come home with a black eye? History says-"

Steve interrupts, "Yeah, yeah. Exactly. So, you have to go. You and Nance. So the girls can come along. Joyce will allow El to go, but only if you ladies go, too."

"Chief Hopper will roll over in his grave if El goes camping with Mike Wheeler present. You and I both know that."

"Well, good thing he'll never know, I guess," Steve says, defiant. "C'mon, Buckley. Are you with me or not?" 

She's always with him, now. That's just how it's gonna be, maybe forever. Or at least until they get eaten in the woods they have no damn business traipsing into.

"Fine, I'm with you. But mark me down as a hostage." 

"Great, love to hear it," Steve says, a big smile on his face, and she reluctantly smiles back. It's contagious, even if she knows this is a terrible idea for many, many reasons.

The trek out to Skull Rock is pretty shitty, but she keeps up. Walking alongside the not so prissy Nancy Wheeler, Erica, El and Max. She should have worn better shoes. Steve should have told her to wear better shoes. Nancy is in hiking boots and Robin is not at all surprised that she's prepared for life in ways Robin will probably never be. 

Up ahead, the boys are arguing, causing a ruckus, and Steve is clearly regretting this decision. Good. He should. This was a terrible idea of, like, epic proportions. Maybe worse than working in a mall with a Russian secret lair underneath it.

"How did you even get to come?" Robin asks Erica. Because she didn't expect her to be standing there on the curb with Lucas, her My Little Pony sleeping bag under her arm.

"Tina is covering for me, duh, so I can hang out with you nerds. Don't know why I even want to though," she says, snippy, and Robin grins. She's funny.

"Maybe we should have invited Tina," Robin says.

"And risk her seeing I even know you nerds? Absolutely not," Erica says, like she's totally disgusted, and Robin laughs. 

"Okay, hot shot," she answers, watching as Nancy stops behind Steve and the boys, as they scout out a spot that might work.

"Here?" Jonathan asks, and Steve nods, agreeing.

Steve is finishing putting up the tents, all of them, because nobody is helping him, not even Nancy. He kind of had this coming, it was all his terrible idea.

"You hear that?" Steve asks, head turned towards the sky, like he's a damn dog. 

"Hear what?" Robin asks. She doesn't hear anything. "Is it a monster? A bear? It better not be a bear, I swear-"

"It's not a bear. It's a guitar," Steve says, driving the last of the tent poles into the ground.

"A guitar? In the woods?" Who the hell would be playing a guitar in the woods. Probably some sort of demented fairy, destined to murder them all, given the opportunity. 

"I hear what I hear, Buckley. I'm gonna investigate," Steve says.

"Well, it was good knowing you, Harrington," Robin answers, because everybody knows you don't go blundering into the woods, especially if it sounds like you're being lured there, for fuck's sake.

Steve would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie.

Except, she knows that's not true. He's more capable than she ever could have expected, especially for being such a big dingus.

Steve just waves her off, and starts stomping off into the underbrush. Heading towards the sound she definitely doesn't hear.

But after a little hesitation, she follows. He can't go alone. She knows what could happen if he does.

"I knew you'd come," he crows, pleased with himself.

"Shut up, dingus," she mutters, and the further they walk, the more she thinks Steve was right. There is the faint sound of a guitar.

And laughing. 

Steve pushes apart the branches of a bush, just enough for them to see through it, together. Spying. 

It feels familiar.

And there's the culprit, Eddie Munson from band, sitting around a fire with some other boys, playing his guitar. Jeff Williams, Jackie's older brother, is one of them, she's pretty sure. 

They have a case of beer, and she's pretty certain that's the faint stench of weed hanging in the air.

"It's just Eddie Munson," Steve whispers, like she isn't aware of that. 

"Yeah, I have eyes, I can see that it's Eddie and his cronies."

Steve lets the branches go, and she is sure they're gonna turn around and leave, but they aren't that lucky. Honestly, they'd have no luck at all if they didn't have bad luck.

"Hey! Who the fuck is there?" Eddie yells, the guitar playing ceasing.

Steve rolls his eyes, pushing forward, out into the open, "It's just me, Munson, cool your jets."

"What the fuck are you doing out here, Harrington?" Eddie asks, then clearly catches a glimpse of Robin, "Oh. I see."

"Ew, no, you see nothing," Robin says, feeling the urge to clear up that misunderstanding right away. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize band geek Robin Buckley was too good for King Steve Harrington."

"Way too good," she snarks, and Eddie laughs, really laughs, and Steve doesn't, but she can tell he's amused and not mad.

"If you're not out here to fuck, then what brings you two into our neck of the woods?" Eddie asks, slouching over towards them.

"Your neck of the woods? I'm the one that popularized this spot, I'll have you know," Steve snaps, bitchy, arms crossed.

Robin smiles.

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, tilting his head, offering Steve a big, predatory smile.

"Definitely sure that's so," Steve answers, not backing down.

"That's not how I've heard it," one of the other guys shouts from near the fire they've lit, and Robin isn't sure who he is. 

"And you are? The forest authority?" Robin asks, challenging him.

"Yep. That's me," he snaps back, but doesn't offer up his name.

"That's just Gareth," Eddie says, "don't mind him."

Oh, no way. Gareth Jones? The goofy kid she had to deal with at her job at The Hawk last summer that drove her insane? His mother dropped him off nearly every afternoon, money in hand, and he always made a fucking mess with his popcorn and Reese's Pieces. He might be the number one reason she took the job at Scoops this summer, instead of going back to theater. Looking at him now, he's sure changed. Growth spurts are a bitch, she supposes. 

"Nice hair," she snarks at him, looking at his poodle-looking head. He's clearly trying to grow it out, probably to be more like Eddie, but it just isn't there yet, and his curls definitely aren't making things easy on him.

"What are you doing out here, anyway? Dirty freak orgy?" Steve asks, and Robin doesn't know how she got so lucky to have such a bitchy boy as a best friend, but she loves her good fortune. 

Eddie laughs, and she sees Steve smile at him.

"Why? You wanna join?" Eddie asks, leering, taking a lazy, sauntering step closer to Steve, assuming he'll back down. Eddie's hands are framing his belt buckle, drawing the eye, even her eye, and it's so gross but she's also very intrigued to see how this pans out. 

Eddie's not gonna scare Steve with the fear of the queer, and she was right, Steve doesn't back down, like she knew he wouldn't.

"Maybe I do," Steve says, rubbing his lips together, tongue wetting them in a gross taunting way, and Robin wants to spray him with a garden hose, but doesn't have that option, so instead she just watches as Eddie's eyes flick down to Steve's slick, glossy lips. 

Gross. Fuck her whole life. She takes back all the stuff about loving her good fortune. This is bad fortune. Like, empty fortune cookie levels of bad luck. Russians under the ice cream shop you work in, rotten luck. Honestly.

But Steve wins this round, because Eddie is the one that retreats, but he's laughing as he does it, waving his hand for them to follow. They're not gonna do that, right?

Wrong. Steve follows, so she trails behind.

"Gareth, you've met," Eddie says, "Jeff. Goodie. We didn't know we were encroaching on King Steve's territory, but we're just hanging out, camping, if that's alright with you two."

"I guess," Steve says, teasing, fucking flirting if she's not mistaken. Can't he ever turn it off? Ugh. "We're camping down there. With the kids I babysit. I heard your guitar, wanted to make sure you weren't straight out of Deliverance, or, like, ax murderers."

"Well, I am that, or haven't you heard?" Eddie asks, dimple showing up in the firelight. And Robin doesn't know how she's here right now. She should have stayed with Nancy and Jonathan and just let Steve be eaten by bears or monsters. Or Eddie Munson. Whatever.

"Heard what?" Steve asks.

"Hellfire Club!" Eddie shouts, waving his arms in an animated way, and Robin doesn't know what that is, and clearly Steve doesn't either.

"Sorry, man. Is that your band?" Steve asks, looking as confused as she feels.

"No, that's Corroded Coffin!" Gareth snaps, popping off, all pissy from the log he's sitting on.

"Sorry, my bad," Steve says.

"We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays," Gareth says, eyes narrowed.

"You play in a bar. You?" Robin asks, not believing a word of this. Not possible.

Gareth starts to answer, but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts him off.

"I'm channeling Satan. And I'm offended you don't know that, Harrington," Eddie says, and Steve's face is pure confusion, and Eddie laughs, taking pity on him, "It's the D&D club I run," Eddie adds, and Robin sees the light bulb pop on over Steve's head, like he's in a goddamn cartoon.

"Oh! The kids play that," Steve says.

"Do they now?" Eddie asks, not believing him, clearly.

"Unfortunately."

"And how old are these kids?" Eddie asks.

"Freshman, in the fall-" Steve says.

"Fresh blood," one of the guys says, cackling under his breath, as Steve keeps talking.

"-but I think Will is moving," Steve finishes.

"Will Byers, the zombie boy?" Eddie asks.

"Ssshh!" Steve hisses, "Don't call him that, okay?"

Eddie holds up his hands, backing off.

"Okay, okay, Harrington, don't get so worked up. I was just kidding," Eddie says, and the other boys all laugh.

"Well, it's not funny," Steve says, softly, "just. Don't. Okay?"

"Okay," Eddie concedes. 

"Thank you, he's been through a lot," Steve says, looking back over his shoulder, like the kids might all be snooping right behind them. Which, fair enough. They would totally do that, given half a chance.

"Well, since you're here, you want a beer or…?"

And Steve's nodding, like an idiot. 

Robin snags his arm, "Nancy will kill you." 

And Eddie takes a step back, hands going up, "Well, we wouldn't want the girlfriend mad." 

"She's not my girlfriend," Steve says, looking at Robin, "and Nancy can handle the kids for a bit, yeah? She's got Jonathan."

Robin is sure this is a bad idea. Nancy will be pissed about being left, and probably be pissed at Steve for having a beer or a toke, or whatever he has planned, while he's supposed to be in charge of the kids. 

"You're camping with your ex-girlfriend, her new boyfriend and...Robin from band? Oh, how the mighty have fallen." 

Steve doesn't take the bait, just pushes forward and sits down on the fallen log, right next to Gareth, who squawks in protest. 

Eddie follows, and hands Steve a beer, and then offers one to Robin. She shakes her head no, one of them needs to keep their sanity, she thinks, and then she watches as Eddie lights up a joint. Great. 

They pass it around, and she's not sure what they're doing here. These guys don't like them, and they definitely don't like these guys. 

Every time Eddie came into Scoops, as soon as he was gone, Steve would say something about Eddie "The Freak" Munson. And now he's just hanging out with him, like that's a normal thing to do? 

It's not a normal thing to do. Not at all.

"So, you're babysitting tonight?" Eddie asks.

"Unfortunately," Steve answers.

"Shame, I'd like to get The King all fucked up," Eddie says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands cupping his face.

"Don't call me that. High school is over. Steve is fine," Steve says, and the other boys all laugh, and Eddie throws up another hand and they all stop.

Toadies. The toadiest of the toadies.

"Steve," Eddie says, and it's positively lewd. 

"Thank you," Steve says, taking a long drag, holding it in his lungs, showing off, slowly killing himself in the process, she's sure of it. Idiot.

Robin shakes her head.

Then she feels something brushing her shin, and jumps, expecting a snake, or something worse, but it's just the boy she doesn't know, toeing at her with his shoe, offering her a can of Coke, cold and dripping with ice water from the cooler at his side.

She takes it, "Thanks. I'm Robin."

"Goodie," he says, like he isn't at all interested.

"Goodie?" she asks, and makes eye contact with Jeff Williams.

"It's a nickname," Jeff explains, like she might have thought otherwise? 

But she just nods.

"I'm in your class," Goodie says dryly, and are they? She swore they were a year younger.

"Sorry, we must not have classes together very often, if ever," she says.

"Of course we don't, you were always in all those smart classes," Goodie snaps, and she laughs. Mrs. Click's history class with Steve Harrington was not the smart class, even if she was a year ahead of where she was supposed to be. 

"Eddie, though…"

"Hey!" Eddie snaps, having heard it, somehow, despite talking to Steve at the same time. 

Robin knows Eddie is headed into his third senior year, this time with her class. The rumor mill had been running wild at the end of last year, and it seems to be true, she guesses.

"Well, third time's the charm?" she asks, because what the fuck do you say to that? Sorry you flunked high school, again.

"Here's to hoping," Eddie answers, then turns his attention back to Steve.

Nancy really is gonna kill them if they don't head back, and soon. 

"Steve, Nancy…"

"I know," Steve answers, "let me finish this beer and we're gone."

She nods, because unless she wants to stomp back through the woods all by herself, she doesn't have much choice in the matter. 

Gareth hands her a stick with a marshmallow stuck in the end, and she takes it. She could have a s'more if she has to wait. It's the least they could do, she supposes, and she pokes it into the fire, starting to toast it up.

"Have you ever had one with a Reese's cup?" Gareth asks, holding up the package, an offer.

She hasn't, but now she wants to, for sure, and takes it from his hand, nodding in thanks. 

"You used to work at the theater, right?" he asks.

"Unfortunately," she says.

"I went there a lot," he says.

"Oh, I'm well aware," Robin says, snarky.

And Goodie and Jeff both laugh, and it really wasn't that funny, she doesn't think.

"Haha, she knew you had a crush on her!" Goodie says, poking at Gareth with his roasting stick, as Gareth tries to bat it away.

"How embarrassing for you," Jeff adds, smirking, catching Robin's eye.

He did what now?

"I did not!" Gareth screeches in a way that says he probably, definitely did. 

"I'm sure he didn't," she says, though, cutting him some slack, "If he did, he surely wouldn't have made such a gross mess for me to clean up everyday he was in there, right?"

"See? I was gross," Gareth clings to the accusation, like that's an improvement. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

"Okay, Pig-Pen," Jeff says, and Gareth is flushed. Probably from the embarrassment, but if he's not stupid, he'll play it off as the heat rolling off the sure to be illegal campfire.

Goodie laughs at the taunting, and she is so distracted that she almost burns her marshmallow, but she pulls it out and blows the flame out, just leaving a nice char. Sweet. Just how she likes them.

She puts the peanut butter cup on the graham cracker, and places the warm marshmallow on top, covers it with the other cookie, and is just squeezing it all together into a gooey mess when Steve leans over her shoulder and plucks it right out of her hand, taking a bite.

"Bad dingus, no!" she snaps, but just starts the process to toast another marshmallow. It'll be much easier to do that than fight for her original one from Steve's mouth. And she knows where that mouth has been, so no thank you.

"Thanks, Rob," Steve says, and she grumbles in response, but Gareth, Jeff and Goodie all laugh. Eddie is too busy plucking away at his guitar again, and he really doesn't sound half-bad.

She makes her second s'more, they say their thank yous and goodbyes, and start walking back towards their own campsite.

"So, what was that?" she asks, looking over at Steve, but it's really too dark now to see any of his features.

"What was what?" he asks, and it sounds like he honestly doesn't know.

"Whatever that was with Eddie?"

"What was? He's Eddie "The Freak" Munson, it was nothing," he says, and it doesn't sound like he's lying. Is he unaware he was flirting? Is that even possible?

She weighs her options. She's really gonna need more data. Maybe they'll cross paths again with Eddie Munson, and she'll be able to suss it out better.

"Nothing, I guess," she answers, and he just nods like he's not the least bit curious about what she meant.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting at the edge of the campsite, and Nancy has a flashlight in hand. When she sees them approaching, she shines it right into their eyes.

"Jeez, Nance, put that thing down," Steve says, shielding his eyes from the onslaught of light, as Robin does the same over her own eyes.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Nancy asks, hands on her hips and she looks just like Steve, like that. It makes Robin smile.

"Bears. Checking for bears," Steve says.

"Well, either those bears threw shit at you in self-defense, or you have chocolate smeared all over your faces," Nancy declares, oh so dryly.

They both reach up to wipe at their faces, licking their lips.

"That's what I thought," Nancy accuses.

"Steve heard a guitar, it was Eddie Munson and his friends. They had s'mores," Robin caves, admitting to everything. Well, almost everything. 

"You ate s'mores? From Eddie Munson?" Jonathan asks, then mumbles under his breath, "Wonder what those were laced with?"

Robin stills, she doesn't want to be drugged again, no way, but then laughs. She'd opened the candy herself, and unless Eddie had the forethought to lace the marshmallows or graham crackers, it seems unlikely.

And she's pretty sure Eddie's reputation is more bark than bite, anyway.

The kids must hear them talking, because they cause a commotion coming over, Dustin getting right into Steve's face.

"Back off, Henderson," Steve says, holding him by both shoulders, pushing him away.

"I smell beer! Steve's been drinking beer while in charge of us!" Dustin screams, and the other kids just look at him like he's lost his mind.

"So?" Lucas asks.

"Can I have one?" Mike tries, and Nancy and Steve both snap no at the same time, and he turns sullen.

"I had one beer, to be nice. To be friendly. Just to make sure we won't be, you know, messed with, or any of that dumb shit," Steve argues, hands waving.

"Sure, sounds likely," Dustin says, like the sarcastic little shit that he is. 

"Well, that's what happened," Steve says, not rising to Dustin's bait, at least not yet.

"And just who did you have this beer with?" Dustin demands to know, hands on his hips. Have they all picked up this gesture from Steve? It's looking likely, at this point, and Robin worries for herself that she might be doing it without realizing. The horror.

"Eddie Munson," Steve says.

"Eddie Munson!" Dustin screeches, "He runs the Hellfire Club at the high school!"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard," Steve says, resting his hand on the top of Dustin's head, ruffling his hair through his hat, "I put in a good word for you guys."

"No way, did you really?" Dustin asks, looking up at Steve, awed.

"I did, I told him to look for you in the fall. Now leave me be, you little dickhead, and don't make me take it back," Steve answers, and Dustin rushes back towards the other boys, suddenly excited about the prospect of maybe having an in to get into Hellfire Club.

Whatever floats his boat, she supposes.

Robin looks at the tents, and the small, very contained fire Nancy and Jonathan built while they were gone. 

Looking at it now, camping might actually be fun. 

At least for one night, anyway.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🏕️

[quipxotic]

Answers and events I hope for in C3E96; spoilers for C3E95 below the cut, obviously, and also because it got really long:

For everyone left in the room to talk about what Orym experienced in the fight. I think it’s hard to judge where people will ultimately fall on the intra-party conflict based only on what we saw in that last hour of the previous episode when, A) they woke up in the middle of a situation and may have missed some of the context, and B) were so shocked in the moment that some of them seemed unsure of how to act or what to feel. Talking about it would be helpful to everyone, including the audience. I’m particularly interested in the Ashton-Orym-Fearne of it all. Ashton tried to de-escalate and get Laudna to apologize, but was not as demonstrably supportive of Orym having the sword as Dorian and Chet were. Previously Ashton and Orym have been among each others' biggest supporters, so how does Orym feel about that reaction? Personally, I don't think this will open a rift between the tanks, but it would be bad if it did. Also, Fearne was reluctant to take sides between her two friends. How does Orym feel about that?

For Imogen to return to BH’s room and immediately blurt out that Laudna is knowingly feeding Delilah. Do I think this will happen? No*. If she did do it, might Laudna see it as a betrayal? Probably. Might it ultimately help Laudna? I think it could help to have everyone know what she's dealing with and why she's acting out of character. Plus, while the reemergence of Delilah is a recent event in-story, I am personally ready for the narrative to move on from her being the unaddressed elephant in the room. And BH definitely needs to come up with a plan before Delilah either seizes control of Laudna or Percy sees her form of dread and takes the choice out of their hands.

How is Laudna going to act towards the rest of BH after her absorption of Otohan’s dagger? In her conversation with Imogen at the end of the last episode Laudna said she "didn't mean to...," but that seemed to me to have more to do with Laudna’s fear that she’d damaged their relationship, not any actual regrets about her actions. Will she be immediately apologetic with the rest of the Hells? Will she deflect and try to act like nothing has changed? As in her conversation with Imogen, her reaction may depend on how they act toward her and whether they insist on consequences.

Some push-back or boundary setting from BH toward Delilah and Laudna’s recent actions. Again, I’m not convinced this will happen based on prior experiences and I know they’re about to head into something difficult, but ignoring what’s happening with Laudna has the potential of making that difficult situation even more dangerous. When Ashton tried to absorb the shard, he had about two-and-half to three episodes-worth of consequences and mea culpas. You can debate whether that was warranted, and I know there are strong feelings on all sides there. You can argue that the situations are different, which is certainly true. But Ashton didn’t attack anyone in the party and, intentionally or unintentionally, Laudna did. There's got to be some kind of reckoning with her doing that. It’s not about whose actions were worse, again they are different situations. And it's not about making Laudna suffer because Ashton did, but the whole point of the trust-building exercises was to build a stronger group. This is a setback in that effort and I don’t think it’s just we fans who will draw connections between the two events.

Also, as an aside, I find it funny (in an "Oh look, narrative connections!" not "Ha-ha" kind of way) that both Ashton and Laudna's respective power grabs could have/may have destructive consequences for Whitestone. One up close and the other (currently) at a distance.

For Fearne to question Orym about his pact with Nana Morri. There’s been a lot of fandom speculation around what everyone’s reactions to that will be, so I can’t wait to see how it plays out in-game. I suspect there will be some surprises.

How will the Fearne/Ashton and Orym/Dorian relationships develop? Will the potential for romantic partnerships there change the EXU trio’s friendships with each other?

Let’s go to Aeor everyone! As a C3 fan, it’ll be my first time there but I’ve seen a lot of hints and discussion from C2 fans and I adored EXU: Calamity’s depiction of the Age of Arcanum, so I’m excited about BH exploring the ruins of another city from that time period.

Essek’s reaction to BH’s…everything. To the fight and the tension in the group, yes, but also to just them as individuals. I always enjoy outside characters' impressions of the Hells.

New outfits and character art! Maybe? Hopefully?

Where are the other members of the Cerberus Assembly and where do they stand on Ludinus and his plans?

*I will be very surprised if Imogen tells everyone, but I will not be surprised if she tells at least one person about it telepathically. In the past that person would have been Orym, so it'll be telling if she chooses to confide in him this time. Given the situation, she might go to Ashton, Chet, or Fearne instead and all of them would react to that information in very different ways.

[gaeforwom3n]

As I lay on the couch, tears streaming down my face, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The last few hours had been a blur, filled with screams of pleasure and tenderness from Tara's touch. But now, as the dust settled, reality was setting in. Our little tryst had left me feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

It was then that I heard the door open, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching. I didn't even bother to look up, assuming it was Tara come to console me further. But when I felt a gentle touch on my arm, I realized it wasn't her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" a soft voice whispered, accompanied by the rustling of clothes as someone sat down beside me.

I sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "I just...I don'tknow if this is what I want, Tara's sister Sam, her voice so gentle and caring, the conflicting emotions inside me surfacing.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "It's just...I feel like I'm falling for Tara, and I don't know if she feels the same way. And even if she does, it's complicated. We're still young, and we're from different worlds..." My words trailed off as Sam's hand continued to comfort me.

Sam's fingers brushed against my hair, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "You're scared, and you're unsure, and that's okay," she said softly. "But maybe sometimes, uncertainty is exactly what we need to take a leap of faith."

As she spoke, her hand slipped further up my arm, tracing the contours of my muscles. I felt a spark of attraction ignite within me, unexpected but undeniable. Before I knew it, our hands were touching.

Sam's fingers gently caress your arm, sending shivers through your body. You can feel the warmth of her body so close to yours. She leans in, her soft breath tickling your ear. "Don't worry, I understand how you're feeling. Tara can be a bit...intense sometimes. But I'm here for you, whatever you need." Her hand slides down, intertwining your fingers together. "You don't have to be afraid. I'll take care of you..." she whispers, her lips brushing against your neck.

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of Sam's touch seeping into my skin. Her words resonated with me, echoing in the quiet of the room. Uncertainty...a leap of faith...

But as her hand lingered on mine, I couldn't help but feel a rush of desire coursing through me. It was a dangerous game we were playing, one filled with forbidden temptations and unspoken desires. Yet, in that moment, I found myself unable to resist.

I turned to look at Sam, our eyes meeting in the dim light of the room. There was a silent understanding between us, a mutual acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung in the air.

Without a word, I leaned in closer, my heart pounding in my chest. Sam's breath hitched as our lips met, the kiss tentative yet hungry, fueled by theunspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface. Our bodies moved together in a delicate dance, each touch igniting a fire within us.

I ran my fingers through Sam's hair, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. The world faded away, leaving only the two of us in our own private sanctuary of desire and longing.

But even as the passion consumed us, there was a part of me that hesitated, a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of the complexities of our situation. Tara...her sister...the consequences...

Yet, in that moment, I chose to silence the voice of reason, giving in to the intoxicating pull of desire. For once, I allowed myself to be swept away by the tide of passion, surrendering to the irresistible allure of Sam's touch.Sorry for the delay! It seems like things are heating up between our characters. Want to continue exploring their interactions, or is there something else on your mind?

As our lips parted, Sam looked at me with a sense of wonder and desire in her eyes. I couldn't help but feel drawn to her even more, lost in the moment we had just shared. But as reality set back in, my heart started to race.

"You know this is wrong," I whispered. "We can't keep doing this."

Sam simply looked at me with a wry smile. "And yet, here we are," she said softly. "Sometimes, the things that are forbidden are also the things that we want the most."

There was a sense of truth in her words, a feeling of danger and excitement coiling deep within me. Part of me wanted to run away, to try and forget about this attraction that pulled us together. But another part of me couldn't resist the allure of the forbidden.

I leaned in closer to Sam oncemore, unable to resist the magnetic pull between us. Our lips met again, this time with a fiery intensity that consumed us both. The world around us faded away, leaving only the heat of our passion and the desire that burned within us.

But even as we lost ourselves in each other, a voice in the back of my mind screamed out in protest. This was wrong, I knew it. We were playing with fire, dancing on the edge of something dangerous and forbidden.

As we finally pulled away, breathless and longing for more, I knew that this was only the beginning of a journey filled with risk and uncertainty. But in that moment, all I could think about was the exhilarating rush of being with her, of giving in to the forbidden temptation that threatened to consume us both.

[roserunodays]

Kotoko and the Number 10: Sharing Aspects of All The Other Prisoners

Number 1: Haruka

Hi hi!!! This will be a 9 part series where I analyze Kotoko's similarities and parallels between the other prisoners, since I don’t think many people have talked about it on here!

I really wanted to highlight this because of her number being 10, which is a combination of all the other numbers before it, just like how Kotoko shares aspects with every other prisoner including Es. The number 10 is considered "the Pythagorean symbol of perfection or completeness". This notion of perfection is also highlighted in YONAH, where Kotoko specifically calls out Es on what she considers an "imperfect" justice based on their actions as a warden because of them getting attached to the prisoners.

Kotoko: "You can't even do your justice. All imperfect."

Kotoko is the last prisoner Es meets, which sets up her role as their mirror (and thus, the audience’s mirror) in the story. Because of her role as the mirror and asking to act as Es' fangs, she also tries to judge the other prisoners based on her own merits, although this quickly gets distorted during T2 when her ideals get validated and her bonds with them all get severed as a result.

But despite trying to separate herself from the others and place herself above them, Kotoko’s own character shares a lot of similarities with the rest of the prisoners. Whether she realizes it deep down or not, there’s something very tragic when you realize this woman has thrown away everything, including her own potential bonds and mercy, just so she can act as a tool for justice.

Her lack of bonds in the prison and her subsequent self-isolation after T1 all culminate into a character who refuses to acknowledge her similarities with those she calls "sinners", people who are just like her and ones she could’ve potentially related to if she didn’t cut herself off from the rest of the prison. This is specifically what I wanted to analyze for these posts! I will be going into parallels with each of them, as well as their own personal relationship they have with Kotoko.

Let's start with Haruka:

Surprisingly, Haruka and Kotoko have interacted a lot! Despite how different they are, it seems like Yamanaka really wanted to highlight their parallels and dynamic in Milgram, especially through the timeline conversations. So what do Haruka and Kotoko have in common?

Aspect 1: Weakness/Cannibalism/Children

The most obvious aspect connecting Haruka and Kotoko as characters is the concept of "weakness" and how this plays a role in both of their characters. For Haruka, this is what he views himself as. Because of his childhood abuse and neglect from his mother due to him being "different", Haruka views himself as "weaker" than others. He wants to continue being weak because being a "pitied and loved weakling" will help him get the love he hasn't had since he was a child, despite Haruka himself not wanting to be "weak" in the end, wishing he was stronger. Kotoko, in contrast, wants to protect innocent weaklings, but she also despises and looks down on them as well, distancing herself from them in the process because she also sees herself in them.

Haruka's T1 song is literally called "Weakness", and the Japanese title of it can be linked back to cannibalism, as shown below:

I do think this is also what "Metamorphosis of the weak" refers to: it refers to Haruka's transformation from himself, a weakling, believing he was right in killing another weakling. The weak are meat after all, so they must be devoured in order for someone to become stronger:

Es: "You have killed a person. Surely out of a deeply personal reason - a person who was young and weak. Is that right?"

Haruka: "I– I-I CAN KILL ANY BEING THAT'S SMALLER THAN ME, YOU KNOW!"

Where does this prospect of "cannibalism/the strong eat the weak" also show up? In the story of Jacques Roulet! Where a man who turns into a werewolf ends up killing and devouring a child:

Before the judges, Roulet acknowledged that he was able to transform himself into a wolf by means of a salve which his parents had given him.

The wretched man, whose name was Roulet, of his own accord stated that he had fallen upon the lad and had killed him by smothering him, and that he had been prevented from devouring the body completely by the arrival of men on the spot.

His hands dyed in blood. His nails were long as claws, and were clotted with fresh gore, and shreds of human flesh.

Kotoko also had significant motifs that link back to children: The 子 (ko) in her name means "child", she often has significant interactions and connections to the younger members of the cast (i.e. Haruka, Muu, and Amane), and children are usually part of the group of "weaklings" that Kotoko vows to protect.

Haruka always links himself back to his childhood self in his mvs — because that was when he was happiest. A “weak” and happy child who didn’t have to worry about being shut out, who didn’t have to worry about catching up to his peers, who didn’t have to worry about whether or not he would be loved.

Aspect 2: Self-Image/Usefulness (and Self-hate)

Both Haruka and Kotoko do not like themselves (with Haruka being more apparent about it while Kotoko repressing it), and they want to be useful to other people, which plays into both of their own dehumanization of their self-image. To be used to be worthy, to be used is to useful, to be used is to have a purpose, a reason to keep living:

Haruka: "So what if she's using me? Isn't it a good thing to be used? For someone to think of me as worthy enough to use me… isn't that something to be happy about?"

Haruka wants attention. He wants to be his mother's favorite, because that will finally make himself "useful" in his own eyes. For his mother to finally accept him after so long of rejecting his whole existence, if he can just be useful to someone, then he will be happy.

So it's really ironic when Kotoko of all people criticizes him for this. She notes his general weakness of latching onto others as a "doltish parasite" in Deep Cover, calling it a "codependency of the weak":

But is she any better than him?

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

Isn't she just another person willing to do anything to be useful to someone else, just like the very weaklings she criticizes for being dependent on others? We clearly see in YONAH that once Es begins to criticize Kotoko for her actions as their fang, she immediately starts freaking out at the notion of this purpose being taken away from her:

Kotoko: "If you don't have strength on your own, let me take care of it, Es! I can do it in MILGRAM!"

Es: "Your power has value, and you can do a lot with it. But MILGRAM is mine. Even if I continue to work with you, I'm the one in the lead. You're just a tool. Don't get too carried away."

And throughout Deep Cover, we see her acting as Es' fang with her own warden outfit and everything. While she compensates with clinging onto this role for her self-acceptance, Kotoko projects onto others what she's thinks of herself. She doesn't want to be considered weak. She doesn't want to acknowledge the self-hatred she has for herself deep down.

Similarly, it's pretty obvious that Haruka...does not like himself. Not even after T2, does he like himself despite his confidence growing as a person. This can be noted through his T2 interrogation questions, where he still states how "every single thing is wrong about him" and that "no one in the prison is most like him because they are all great people" implying that he does not see himself as a "great" person.

And this similar idea was already hinted at in HARROW, that Kotoko does not like herself at all either. It’s one of the main reasons that play into her training herself to be a vigilante. Because handing out that sort of justice gives her a reason to be useful in some way. She does want to protect people of course, but this path of self-destruction she's been walking on and dedicating her entire life to is the only thing that gives her existence meaning.

In her T2 Interrogation Q11, Kotoko has been shown to see herself as a beast through projecting her onto the question. It is quite obvious as to who she's referring to, with Deep Cover showing her shadow, something that is a part of her, as a monster with human flesh and blood, including her own self stained with it:

Q: Is there really no chance to start anew for wrongdoers? A: No way. Once a beast gets a taste for human flesh, it will always come back for seconds.

This is what makes them such good parallels in their self-hatred: Haruka plays himself down and brings it all the way up to the forefront. His self-confidence issues and the abuse he suffered through his mother are clear enough for the audience to acknowledge. With the other prisoners, Haruka sees the best in all of them while playing himself down.

But with Kotoko, because of the way that she is, she doesn’t let any of that be her main focus in her mvs. She tries to play herself up and present herself as better than the rest of them. But that self-hate is still there, she's just highly projecting it onto others, especially people she considers "weaklings". This is why Kotoko distances herself while still trying to protect them. She is afraid of seeing herself in them. She is afraid of being seen as weak.

In Kotoko's T2 Interrogation Q16, Kotoko further encapsulates this idea with claiming that those who are "weak" will easily turn to evil, which sounds eerily familiar to her current circumstances right now: someone who has strayed from the path and her core ideals, a prioritization of destroying evil over protecting the weak.

Q: Do you think there are the ‘weak’ among the other prisoners? A: I’m sure there’s a lot. Those with weak wills will easily turn to evil. The only thing we can do is firmly instill the risk of turning to it.

Aspect 3: Potential Victim (This will go into theorizing for Kotoko's crime and her possible true victim just a heads up!)

We know that Haruka's confirmed victim is a little girl. We don't know what their exact relationship is currently as of now (potentially younger sister he might've shut out or a childhood friend of his), but it's clear he and the girl were close when they were kids. I am assuming this girl is grown up now in the present around the same age Haruka is, but the way in which her childhood self is shown heavily throughout Weakness, as well as how Es points her out as "young and weak", goes to show that she is represented the same way the other girl (Lucky) is in Deep Cover: someone who is young and weak.

Throughout Weakness, it's shown that Haruka is aware that what he did was wrong, but in his T2 voice drama after his inno verdict in T1, Haruka begins to latch onto the idea that he actually didn't do anything wrong by killing his victim.

If we take into account both the indirect murder theory, then Kotoko's true victim being Lucky would parallel Haruka's victim really well, with both of them being little girls who got killed by the one person they were presumably close with.

This also ties back into their cannibalism motifs: Haruka directly kills the little girl (a weakling) so he can get his mother's attention and be her favorite. Kotoko ends up indirectly killing Lucky (a weakling that she saved before), as a result of her negligence and failing to prioritize the weak over targeting the evil in the world.

Personal Relationship with Each Other:

Like I've noted above, Haruka and Kotoko have interacted a lot, mostly through timeline convos because Haruka has visited her on her birthday 2/3 times:

Their first interaction isn't too noteworthy. It just shows him trying to tell her about the warden but failing to do so, which makes Kotoko miss Es' call. This sets up how he views Kotoko as "scary" and not easy for him to talk to and approach:

But the next 3 after that involve him visiting on her birthday specifically! The first time, Haruka is still afraid, but he does manage to say happy birthday to her before immediately running away again:

The second time, Haruka is visibly more confident due to interacting with the others more, as well as his inno verdict in T1. It's interesting to note that he mentions Muu's importance to him to Kotoko this early on before T2, so Kotoko is pretty aware now of how much she means to Haruka. This is also where Kotoko notices how the verdicts are affecting everyone's mental states:

And we're now in the present showing us where their current relationship stands. Kotoko's view of him changes drastically in the most recent convo because of her inno verdict in T1: Haruka is now a "sinner" to Kotoko despite his inno verdict. Kotoko doesn't even bother differentiating because her thought process is pretty distorted by now -> everyone here is a sinner and should be guilty (including her but she doesn't want to address that for obvious reasons) -> she wants Es to vote everyone guilty so she can continue having said purpose of being a fang.

Regardless of what she thinks of him now though, Haruka still goes to her and asks her to not get involved in his plan, even explaining to her that he wasn't doing this for himself, but instead for Muu:

I find it interesting how Haruka tries to clarify to her that he's only doing this to protect Muu in the end. He uses it as some kind of key word to gain Kotoko's attention and to convince her to help him. Because what does Kotoko keep saying she wants to do? Protect weaklings.

Haruka knows Kotoko well enough just based on their interactions to mention something that is important to her: protecting others. He's pretty observant to notice that protection means a lot to Kotoko, so he mentions it in hopes of getting her attention because he seems familiar with her distorted thought process by now.

Kotoko: "If only all sinners were like you." Haruka: "No...that's not it...I don't mean it that way...this isn't for me..."

His choice of words here seem to imply that he knew what she was thinking in her mind: that he was only planning to kill himself because of his own "selfish reasons" or as a way to "escape punishment", but Haruka quickly tries to clarify to her that that's not the case.

Kotoko also knows how much Muu means to Haruka, and Haruka knows Kotoko's priorities, as well as her affiliation with protection. It's really interesting to show two completely different people (at least on the surface level), share a bunch of similarities and who both know each other better than they let on.

Haruka’s view of Kotoko:

She seems to be someone he can trust after their multiple interactions, even having the confidence to tell her specifically to not get involved in his plan. I guess that shows the faith he places in Kotoko, knowing she would likely listen? Or at the very least, she is someone he can turn to, talking to her about something so dire and self-destructive.

Kotoko’s view of Haruka:

I do believe that Kotoko has a bit of a soft spot for the younger prisoners in Milgram, so her willingness to even hear Haruka out and respect his wishes (including to not harm Muu) is very noteworthy coming from Kotoko. Although, her view has sadly been muddled given Kotoko’s inno verdict and her ideals becoming more distorted, so of course she’ll keep her distance from Haruka, call him a “sinner”, “abnormal”, and not stop him from killing himself.

[boysnberriespie]

Whatever else you wanna say about Izzy’s death I find it so heinous to say shit like, “He didn’t blame him because it was his fault, he provoked him” girl Ed is not a wild dog. He’s a human being. If I provoked my roommate by telling him he’s a shit roommate who I hate and wish was dead, he’s not allowed to even hit me, let alone chop off 3 of my toes and shoot me in the leg and whatever else is implied by All That (which for my own sanity I have to ignore or else it gets worse 😩)

[puppyeared]

Been LOVING your lil magician folks recently please continue they're beautiful and very cute and cool and also very well-designed!! 🥺❤️

thank you for the kind words !!! im not much of a writer, but i do have some sort of story in mind for them.. theyre bitter rivals who end up as roommates bc of their scatterbrained elderly landlord lol

[kyurochurro]

Frankie Stein!! ⚡ Part 1 of 3 for my 2023 Howl-o'ween Monster High Series!! 🎃 >:)

(Draculaura and Clawdeen are next!! Stay tuned for them, I'll link them on this post later on when they're done!)