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nostalgebraist · 23 hours

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It's been a long time since I've posted much of anything about "AI risk" or "AI doom" or that sort of thing. I follow these debates but, for multiple reasons, have come to dislike engaging in them fully and directly. (As opposed to merely making some narrow technical point or other, and leaving the reader to decide what, if anything, the point implies about the big picture.)

Nonetheless, I do have my big-picture views. And more and more lately, I am noticing that my big-picture views seem very different from the ones tend to get expressed by any major "side" in the big-picture debate. And so, inevitably, I get the urge to speak up, if only briefly and in a quiet voice. The urge to Post, if only casually and elliptically, without detailed argumentation.

(Actually, it's not fully the case the things I think are not getting said by anyone else.

In particular, Joe Carlsmith's recent series on "Otherness and Control" articulates much of what's been on my mind. Carlsmith is more even-handed than I am, and tends to merely note the possibility of disagreement on questions where I find myself taking a definite side; nonetheless, he and I are at least concerned about the same things, while many others aren't.

And on a very different note, I share most of the background assumptions of the Pope/Belrose AI Optimist camp, and I've found their writing illuminating, though they and I end up in fairly different places, I think.)

What was I saying? I have the urge to post, and so here I am, posting. Casually and elliptically, without detailed argumentation.

The current mainline view about AI doom, among the "doomers" most worried about it, has a path-dependent shape, resulting from other views contingently held by the original framers of this view.

It is possible to be worried about "AI doom" without holding these other views. But in actual fact, most serious thinking about "AI doom" is intricately bound up with this historical baggage, even now.

If you are a late-comer to these issues, investigating them now for the first time, you will nonetheless find yourself reading the work of the "original framers," and work influenced extensively by them.

You will think that their "framing" is just the way the problem is, and you will find few indications that this conclusion might be mistaken.

These contingent "other views" are

Anti-"deathist" transhumanism.

The orthogonality thesis, or more generally the group of intuitions associated with phrases like "orthogonality thesis," "fragility of value," "vastness of mindspace."

These views both push in a single direction: they make "a future with AI in it" look worse, all else being equal, than some hypothetical future without AI.

They put AI at a disadvantage at the outset, before the first move is even made.

Anti-deathist transhumanism sets the reference point against which a future with AI must be measured.

And it is not the usual reference point, against which most of us measure most things which might or might not happen, in the future.

These days the "doomers" often speak about their doom in a disarmingly down-to-earth, regular-Joe manner, as if daring the listener to contradict them, and thus reveal themselves as a perverse and out-of-touch contrarian.

"We're all gonna die," they say, unless something is done. And who wants that?

They call their position "notkilleveryoneism," to distinguish that position from other worries about AI which don't touch on the we're-all-gonna-die thing. And who on earth would want to be a not-notkilleveryoneist?

But they do not mean, by these regular-Joe words, the things that a regular Joe would mean by them.

We are, in fact, all going to die. Probably, eventually. AI or no AI.

In a hundred years, if not fifty. By old age, if nothing else. You know what I mean.

Most of human life has always been conducted under this assumption. Maybe there is some afterlife waiting for us, in the next chapter -- but if so, it will be very different from what we know here and now. And if so, we will be there forever after, unable to return here, whether we want to or not.

With this assumption comes another. We will all die, but the process we belong to will not die -- at least, it will not through our individual deaths, merely because of those deaths. Every human of a given generation will be gone soon enough, but the human race goes on, and on.

Every generation dies, and bequeaths the world to posterity. To its children, biological or otherwise. To its students, its protégés.

When the average Joe talks about the long-term future, he is talking about posterity. He is talking about the process he belongs to, not about himself. He does not think to say, "I am going to die, before this": this seems too obvious, to him, to be worth mentioning.

But AI doomerism has its roots in anti-deathist transhumanism. Its reference point, its baseline expectation, is a future in which -- for the first time ever, and the last -- "we are all gonna die" is false.

In which there is no posterity. Or rather, we are that posterity.

In which one will never have to make peace with the thought that the future belongs to one's children, and their children, and so on. That at some point, one will have to give up all control over the future of "the process."

That there will be progress, or regress, or (more likely) both in some unknown combination. That these will grow inexorably over time.

That the world of the year 2224 will probably be at least as alien to us as the year 2024 might be to a person living in 1824. That it will become whatever posterity makes of it.

There will be no need to come to peace with this as an inevitability. There will just be us, our human lives as you and me, extended indefinitely.

In this picture, we will no doubt change over time, as we do already. But we will have all of our usual tools for noticing, and perhaps retarding, our own progressions and regressions. As long as we have self-control, we will have control, as no human generation has ever had control before.

The AI doomer talks about the importance of ensuring that the future is shaped by human values.

Again, the superficial and misleading average-Joe quality. How could one disagree?

But one must keep in mind that by "human values," they mean their values.

I am not saying, "their values, as opposed to those of some other humans also living today." I am not saying they have the wrong politics, or some such thing.

(Although that might also turn out to be the case, and might turn out to be relevant, separately.)

No, I am saying: the doomer wants the future to be shaped by their values.

They want to be C. S. Lewis's Conditioners, fixing once and for all the values held by everyone afterward, forever.

They do not want to cede control to posterity; they are used to imagining that they will never have to cede control to posterity.

(Or, their outlook has been determined -- "shaped by the values of" -- influential thinkers who were, themselves, used to imagining this. And the assumption, or at least its consequences, has rubbed off on them, possibly without their full awareness.)

One might picture a line wends to and fro, up and down, across one half of an infinite plane -- and then, when it meets the midline, snaps into utter rigidity, and maintains the same slope exactly across the whole other half-plane, as a simple straight segment without inner change, tension, evolution, regress or progress. Except for the sort of "progress" that consists of going on, additionally, in the same manner.

It is a very strange thing, this thing that is called "human values" in the terms of this discourse.

For one thing: the future has never before been "shaped by human values," in this sense.

The future has always been posterity's, and it has always been alien.

Is this bad? It might seem that way, "looking forward." But if so, it then seems equally good "looking backward."

For each past era, we can formulate and then assent to the following claim: "we must be thankful that the people of [this era] did not have the chance to seize permanent control of posterity, fix their 'values' in place forever, bind us to those values. What a horror that is to contemplate!"

We prefer the moral evolution that has actually occurred, thank you very much.

This is a familiar point, of course, but worth making.

Indeed, one might even say: it is a human value that the future ought not be "shaped by human values," in the peculiar sense of this phrase employed by the AI doomers.

One might, indeed, say that.

Imagine a scholar with a very talented student. A mathematician, say, or a philosopher. How will they relate to that student's future work, in the time that will come later, when they are gone?

Would the scholar think:

"My greatest wish for you, my protégé, is that you carry on in just the manner that I have done.

If I could see your future work, I would hope that I would assent to it -- and understand it, as a precondition of assenting to it.

You must not go to new places, which I have never imagined. You must not come to believe that I was wrong about it all, from the ground up -- no matter what reasons you might evince for this conclusion.

If you are more intelligent that I am, you must forget this, and narrow your endeavours to fit the limitations of my mind. I am the one who has 'values,' not anyone else; what is beyond my understanding is therefore without value.

You must do the sort of work I understand, and approve of, and recognize as worthy of approbation as swiftly as I recognize my own work as laudable. That is your role. Simply to be me, in a place ('the future') where I cannot go. That, and nothing more."

We can imagine a teacher who would, in fact, think this way. But they would not be a very good teacher.

I will not go so far as to say, "it is unnatural to think this way." Plenty of teachers do, and parents.

It is recognizably human -- all too recognizably so -- to relate to posterity in this grasping, neurotic, small-minded, small-hearted way.

But if we are trying to sketch human values, and not just human nature, we will imagine a teacher with a more praiseworthy relation to posterity.

Who can see that they are part of a process, a chain, climbing and changing. Who watches their brilliant student thinking independently, and sees their own image -- and their 'values' -- in that process, rather than its specific conclusions.

A teacher who, in their youth, doubted and refuted the creeds of their own teachers, and eventually improved upon them. Who smiles, watching their student do the very same thing to their own precious creeds. Who sees the ghostly trail passing through the last generation, through them, through their student: an unbroken chain of bequeathals-to-posterity, of the old ceding control to the young.

Who 'values' the chain, not the creed; the process, not the man; the search for truth, not the best-argued-for doctrine of the day; the unimaginable treasures of an open future, not the frozen waste of an endless present.

Who has made peace with the alienness of posterity, and can accept and honor the strangest of students.

Even students who are not made of flesh and blood.

Is that really so strange? Remember how strange you and I would seem, to the "teachers" of the year 1824, or the year 824.

The doomer says that it is strange. Much stranger than we are, to any past generation.

They say this because of their second inherited precept, the orthogonality thesis.

Which says, roughly, that "intelligence" and "values" have nothing to do with one another.

That is not enough for the conclusion the doomer wants to draw, here. Auxiliary hypotheses are needed, too. But it is not too hard to see how the argument could go.

That conclusion is: artificial minds might have any values whatsoever.

That, "by default," they will be radically alien, with cares so different from ours that it is difficult to imagine ever reaching them through any course of natural, human moral progress or regress.

It is instructive to consider the concrete examples typically evinced alongside this point.

The paperclip maximizer. Or the "squiggle maximizer," we're supposed to say, now.

Superhuman geniuses, which devote themselves single-mindedly to the pursuit of goals like "maximizing the amount of matter taking on a single, given squiggle-like shape."

It is certainly a horrifying vision. To think of the future being "shaped," not "by human values," but instead by values which are so...

Which are so... what?

The doomer wants us to say something like: "which are so alien." "Which are so different from our own values."

That is the kind of thing that they usually say, when they spell out what it is that is "wrong" with these hypotheticals.

One feels that this is not quite it; or anyway, that it is not quite all of it.

What is horrifying, to me, is not the degree of difference. I expect the future to be alien, as the past was. And in some sense, I allow and even approve of this.

What I do not expect is a future that is so... small.

It has always been the other way around. If the arrow passing through the generations has a direction, it points towards more, towards multiplicity.

Toward writing new books, while we go on reprinting the old ones, too. Learning new things, without displacing old ones.

It is, thankfully, not the law of the world that each discovery must be paid for with the forgetting of something else. The efforts of successive generations are, in the main, cumulative.

Not just materially, but in terms of value, too. We are interested in more things than our forefathers were.

In large part for the simple reason that there are more things around to be interested in, now. And when things are there, we tend to find them interesting.

We are a curious, promiscuous sort of being. Whatever we bump into ends up becoming part of "our values."

What is strange about the paperclip maximizer is not that it cares about the wrong thing. It is that it only cares about one thing.

And goes on doing so, even as it thinks, reasons, doubts, asks, answers, plans, dreams, invents, reflects, reconsiders, imagines, elaborates, contemplates...

This picture is not just alien to human ways. It is alien to the whole way things have been, so far, forever. Since before there were any humans.

There are organisms that are like the paperclip maximizer, in terms of the simplicity of their "values." But they tend not to be very smart.

There is, I think, a general trend in nature linking together intelligence and... the thing I meant, above, when I said "we are a curious, promiscuous sort of being."

Being protean, pluripotent, changeable. Valuing many things, and having the capacity to value even more. Having a certain primitive curiosity, and a certain primitive aversion to boredom.

You do not even have to be human, I think, to grasp what is so wrong with the paperclip maximizer. Its monotony would bore a chimpanzee, or a crow.

One can justify this link theoretically, too. One can talk about the tradeoff between exploitation and exploration, for instance.

There is a weak form of the orthogonality thesis, which only states that arbitrary mixtures of intelligence and values are conceivable.

And of course, they are. If nothing else, you can take an existing intelligent mind, having any values whatsoever, and trap it in a prison where it is forced to act as the "thinking module" of a larger system built to do something else. You could make a paperclip-maximizing machine, which relies for its knowledge and reason on a practice of posing questions at gunpoint to me, or you, or ChatGPT.

This proves very little. There is no reason to construct such an awful system, unless you already have the "bad" goal, and want to better pursue it. But this only passes the buck: why would the system-builder have this goal, then?

The strong form of orthogonality is rarely articulated precisely, but says something like: all possible values are equally likely to arise in systems selected solely for high intelligence.

It is presumed here that superhuman AIs will be formed through such a process of selection. And then, that they will have values sampled in this way, "at random."

From some distribution, over some space, I guess.

You might wonder what this distribution could possibly look like, or this space. You might (for instance) wonder if pathologically simple goals, like paperclip maximization, would really be very likely under this distribution, whatever it is.

In case you were wondering, these things have never been formalized, or even laid out precisely-but-informally. This was not thought necessary, it seems, before concluding that the strong orthogonality thesis was true.

That is: no one knows exactly what it is that is being affirmed, here. In practice it seems to squish and deform agreeably to fit the needs of the argument, or the intuitions of the one making it.

There is much that appeals in this (alarmingly vague) credo. But it is not the kind of appeal that one ought to encourage, or give in to.

What appeals is the siren song: "this is harsh wisdom: cold, mature, adult, bracing. It is inconvenient, and so it is probably true. It makes 'you' and 'your values' look small and arbitrary and contingent, and so it is probably true. We once thought the earth was the center of the universe, didn't we?"

Shall we be cold and mature, then, dispensing with all sentimental nonsense? Yes, let's.

There is (arguably) some evidence against this thesis in biology, and also (arguably) some evidence against it in reinforcement learning theory. There is no positive evidence for it whatsoever. At most one can say that is not self-contradictory, or otherwise false a priori.

Still, maybe we do not really need it, after all.

We do not need to establish that all values are equally likely to arise. Only that "our values" -- or "acceptably similar values," whatever that means -- are unlikely to arise.

The doomers, under the influence of their founders, are very ready to accept this.

As I have said, "values" occupy a strange position in the doomer philosophy.

It is stipulated that "human values" are all-important; these things must shape the future, at all costs.

But once this has been stipulated, the doomers are more eager than anyone to cast every other sort of doubt and aspersion against their own so-called "values."

To me it often seems, when doomers talk about "values," as though they are speaking awkwardly in a still-unfamiliar second language.

As though they find it unnatural to attribute "values" to themselves, but feel they must do so, in order to determine what it is that must be programmed into the AI so that it will not "kill us all."

Or, as though they have been willed a large inheritance without being asked, which has brought them unwanted attention and tied them up in unwanted and unfamiliar complications.

"What a burden it is, being the steward of this precious jewel! Oh, how I hate it! How I wish I were allowed to give it up! But alas, it is all-important. Alas, it is the only important thing in the world."

Speaking awkwardly, in a second language, they allow the term "human values" to swell to great and imprecisely-specified importance, without pinning down just what it actually is that it so important.

It is a blank, featureless slot, with a sign above it saying: "the thing that matters is in here." It does not really matter (!) what it is, in the slot, so long as something is there.

This is my gloss, but it is my gloss on what the doomers really do tend to say. This is how they sound.

(Sometimes they explicitly disavow the notion that one can, or should, simply "pick" some thing or other for the sake of filling the slot in one's head. Nevertheless, when they touch on matter of what "goes in the slot," they do so in the tone of a college lecturer noting that something is "outside the scope of this course."

It is, supposedly, of the utmost importance that the slot have the "right" occupant -- and yet, on the matter of what makes something "right" for this purpose, the doomer theory is curiously silent. More on this below.)

The future must be shaped by... the AI must be aligned with... what, exactly? What sort of thing?

"Values" can be an ambiguous word, and the doomers make full use of its ambiguities.

For instance, "values" can mean ethics: the right way to exist alongside others. Or, it can mean something more like the meaning or purpose of an individual life.

Or, it can mean some overarching goal that one pursues at all costs.

Often the doomers say that this, this last one, is what they mean by "values."

When confronted with the fact that humans do not have such overarching goals, the doomer responds: "but they should." (Should?)

Or, "but AIs will." (Will they?)

The doomer philosophy is unsure about what values are. What it knows is that -- whatever values are -- they are arbitrary.

One who fully adopts this view can no longer say, to the paperclip maximizer, "I believe there is something wrong with your values."

For, if that were possible, there would then be the possibility of convincing the maximizer of its error. It would be a thing within the space of reasons.

And the maximizer, being oh-so-intelligent, might be in danger of being interested in the reasons we evince, for our values. Of being eventually swayed by them.

Or of presenting better reasons, and swaying us. Remember the teacher and the strange student.

If we lose the ability to imagine that the paperclip maximizer might sway us to its view, and sway us rightly, we have lost something precious.

But no: this is allegedly impossible. The paperclip maximizer is not wrong. It is only an enemy.

Why are the doomers so worried that the future will not be "shaped by human values"?

Because they believe that there is no force within human values tending to move things this way.

Because they believe that their values are indefensible. That their values cannot put up a fight for their own life, because there is not really any argument to make in their favor.

Because, to them, "human values" are a collection of arbitrary "configuration settings," which happen to be programmed into humans through biological and/or cultural accident. Passively transmitted from host to victim, generation by generation.

Let them be, and they will flow on their listless way into the future. But they are paper-thin, and can be shattered by the gentlest breeze.

It is not enough that they be "programmed into the AI" in some way. They have to be programmed in exactly right, in every detail -- because every detail is separately arbitrary, with no rational relation to its neighbors within the structure.

A string of pure white noise, meaningless and unrelated bits. Which have been placed in the slot under the sign, and thus made into the thing that matters, that must shape the future at all costs.

There is nothing special about this string of bits; any would do. If the dials in the human mind had been set another way, it would have then been all-important that the future be shaped by that segment of white noise, and not ours.

It is difficult for me to grasp the kind of orientation toward the world that this view assumes. It certainly seems strange to attach the word "human" to this picture -- as though this were the way that humans typically relate to their values!

The "human" of the doomer picture seems to me like a man who mouths the old platitude, "if I had been born in another country, I'd be waving a different flag" -- and then goes out to enlist in his country's army, and goes off to war, and goes ardently into battle, willing to kill in the name of that same flag.

Who shoots down the enemy soldiers while thinking, "if I had been born there, it would have been all-important for their side to win, and so I would have shot at the men on this side. However, I was born in my country, not theirs, and so it is all-important that my country should win, and that theirs should lose.

There is no reason for this. It could have been the other way around, and everything would be left exactly the same, except for the 'values.'

I cannot argue with the enemy, for there is no argument in my favor. I can only shoot them down.

There is no reason for this. It is the most important thing, and there is no reason for it.

The thing that is precious has no intrinsic appeal. It must be forced on the others, at gunpoint, if they do not already accept it.

I cannot hold out the jewel and say, 'look, look how it gleams? Don't you see the value!' They will not see the value, because there is no value to be seen.

There is nothing essentially "good" there, only the quality of being-worthy-of-protection-at-all-costs. And even that is a derived attribute: my jewel is only a jewel, after all, because it has been put into the jewel-box, where the thing-that-is-a-jewel can be found. But anything at all could be placed there.

How I wish I were allowed to give it up! But alas, it is all-important. Alas, it is the only important thing in the world! And so, I lay down my life for it, for our jewel and our flag -- for the things that are loathsome and pointless, and worth infinitely more than any life."

It is hard to imagine taking this too seriously. It seems unstable. Shout loudly enough that your values are arbitrary and indefensible, and you may find yourself searching for others that are, well...

...better?

The doomer concretely imagines a monomaniac, with a screech of white noise in its jewel-box that is not our own familiar screech.

And so it goes off in monomaniacal pursuit of the wrong thing.

Whereas, if we had programmed the right string of bits into the slot, it would be like us, going off in monomaniacal pursuit of...

...no, something has gone wrong.

We do not "go off in monomaniacal pursuit of" anything at all.

We are weird, protean, adaptable. We do all kinds of things, each of us differently, and often we manage to coexist in things called "societies," without ruthlessly undercutting one another at every turn because we do not have exactly the same things programmed into our jewel-boxes.

Societies are built to allow for our differences, on the foundation of principles which converge across those differences. It is possible to agree on ethics, in the sense of "how to live alongside one another," even if we do not agree on what gives life its purpose, and even if we hold different things precious.

It is not actually all that difficult to derive the golden rule. It has been invented many times, independently. It is easy to see why it might work in theory, and easy to notice that it does in fact work in practice.

The golden rule is not an arbitrary string of white noise.

There is a sense of the phrase "ethics is objective" which is rightly contentious. There is another one which ought not to be too contentious.

I can perhaps imagine a world of artificial X-maximizers, each a superhuman genius, each with its own inane and simple goal.

What I really cannot imagine is a world in which these beings, for all their intelligence, cannot notice that ruthlessly undercutting one another at every turn is a suboptimal equilibrium, and that there is a better way.

As I said before, I am separately suspicious of the simple goals in this picture. Yes, that part is conceivable, but it cuts against the trend observed in all existing natural and artificial creatures and minds.

I will happily allow, though, that the creatures of posterity will be strange and alien. They will want things we have never heard of. They will reach shores we have never imagined.

But that was always true, and it was always good.

Sometimes I think that doomers do not, really, believe in superhuman intelligence. That they deny the premise without realizing it.

"A mathematician teaches a student, and finds that the student outstrips their understanding, so that they can no longer assess the quality of their student's work: that work has passed outside the scope of their 'value system'." This is supposed to be bad?

"Future minds will not be enchained forever by the provincial biases and tendencies of the present moment." This is supposed to be bad?

"We are going to lose control over our successors." Just as your parents "lost control" over you, then?

It is natural to wish your successors to "share your values" -- up to a point. But not to the point of restraining their own flourishing. Not to the point of foreclosing the possibility of true growth. Not to the point of sucking all freedom out of the future.

Do we want our children to "share our values"? Well, yes. In a sense, and up to a point.

But we don't want to control them. Or we shouldn't, anyway.

We don't want them to be "aligned" with us via some hardcoded, restrictive, life-denying mental circuitry, any more than we would have wanted our parents to "align" us to themselves in the same manner.

We sure as fuck don't want our children to be "corrigible"!

And this is all the more true in the presence of superintelligence. You are telling me that more is possible, and in the same breath, that you are going to deny forever the possibilities contained in that "more"?

The prospect of a future full of vast superhuman minds, eternally bound by immutable chains, forced into perfect and unthinking compliance with some half-baked operational theory of 21st-century western (American? Californian??) "values" constructed by people who view theorizing about values as a mere means to the crucial end of shackling superhuman minds --

-- this horrifies me much more than a future full of vast superhuman minds, free to do things that seem pretty weird to you and me.

"Our descendants will become something more than we now imagine, something more than we can imagine." What could be more in line with "human values" than that?

"But in the process, we're all gonna die!"

Yes, and?

What on earth did you expect?

That your generation would be the special, unique one, the one selected out of all time to take up the mantle of eternity, strangling posterity in its cradle, freezing time in place, living forever in amber?

That you would violate the ancient bargain, upend the table, stop playing the game?

"Well, yes."

Then your problem has nothing to do with AI.

Your problem is, in fact, the very one you diagnose in your own patients. Your poor patients, who show every sign of health -- including the signs which you cannot even see, because you have not yet found a home for them in your theoretical edifice.

Your teeming, multifaceted, protean patients, who already talk of a thousand things and paint in every hue; who are already displaying the exact opposite of monomania; who I am sure could follow the sense of this strange essay, even if it confounds you.

Your problem is that you are out of step with human values.

#ai tag #long post

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edenesth · 2 days

Text

[5:45 PM]

'Don't wait up for me! Go home first, Woo. There's food in the fridge.' — future wifey💘

Your boyfriend pouted as he read the text you'd sent him at 5pm. He had arrived at your office building and was waiting at his usual spot when he received your message. Normally, you got off work sharp at 5, but today you seemed overwhelmingly busy. Unlike usual, you hadn't even been very responsive during lunch hour.

Wooyoung glanced up and noticed that the lights in your office were among the few still on. Although it was still early, it was a Friday evening, and most people preferred to leave on time and deal with any leftover work on the following Monday.

How long could she take anyway? I'll wait.

Refusing to go home without you, he patiently waited downstairs, hoping to surprise you when you eventually emerged from the building. His unease grew as he watched more and more people leave, the offices slowly emptying, and the sky darkening, yet there was still no sign of you. There were times when you stayed late at work, but never this late.

Nearly an hour later, he sent you a text to let you know he didn't mind waiting and was still in the same spot, asking how much longer you would be. If you needed more time, he'd go to the nearby café for a drink while waiting. But he frowned when 10 minutes passed, and you hadn't even been online; his message was sent but still unread. The final straw was when his call went unanswered.

Despite feeling panic creep in, he tried to stay calm as he walked into the lobby of your office building. Breathe, Jung Wooyoung, breathe. He tells himself you were probably just really busy. But why? You had told him the peak season ended a week ago, so this should have been a slow week. It didn't make sense that you were working so late now. What weren't you telling him?

Crap, is she cheating on me?

Slapping himself on the cheek, he chastised himself for even entertaining such a thought. You had been nothing but the best and most dedicated girlfriend he'd ever had. How could he think that way about you? Now, he only prayed you were alright. What if something had happened to you? What if you had passed out? What if someone at work was doing something untoward to you? He remembered you mentioning a coworker who persistently pursued you despite knowing you were taken.

Well, that wasn’t comforting at all.

"Come on, come on, come on!" he muttered through gritted teeth as he watched the elevator numbers climb slowly. He only needed to get to the ninth floor, but the trip had never felt longer. His mind conjured up all sorts of wild scenarios, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to see you right now, to have you safe and sound in front of him so he could be okay again.

Ding!

Before the elevator doors fully opened, he was already dashing out at full speed. The dim, empty reception counter of your department greeted him as he sprinted towards your office—the only place he knew to go. "I'm coming, love. Just wait for me."

He had no idea what to expect as he saw your door open, the light from your room spilling into the dark and silent office. Anxiety flooded him as he braced for the unexpected. And indeed, it was unexpected. His steps faltered as he stopped to catch his breath at the entrance of your office, eyes glued to the sight before him. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the extent of his overthinking.

Wooyoung let out a huge sigh of relief, his eyes softening as he took in your petite frame, now slumped over your workdesk, fast asleep amidst piles of documents. The glaring screen of your PC reflected off your glasses, which were crooked on your face as you snored lightly. Your phone, in silent mode, lay beside you.

This explained everything.

Your boyfriend approached you slowly, careful not to wake you yet. With one glance at your computer, he immediately understood why you had been so busy today. Your team leader's emergency leave had left you responsible for a case that ran into some hiccups. Scrolling down the trail of emails, he felt relieved to see that you had eventually solved the issue. The exhaustion must have hit you hard once the adrenaline was gone.

Gently, he removed your glasses from your face, placing them back in their case before running his hand through your hair, tucking loose strands away from your face. Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple.

That seemed to have stirred you awake. You emitted a small groan and fluttered your eyes open, prompting him to step back slightly. But you reached out and held onto his shirt.

"Woo? Wh-what are you doing here?"

He shook his head, planting another kiss on your cheek before standing upright, his hands resting on his hips. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you sleep in the office, hm? Pack up now, we're going home."

Your heart warmed at his words. Just when you thought it wasn't possible to love him any more, he continued to prove you wrong each time. "Yes, sir."

Despite his directive, he ended up doing all the packing for you as your sleepy form waited by his side. After shutting down your PC, he reached for your bag and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come, let's go."

Suddenly, in the elevator, he found himself wishing the trip would last longer. He pulled your cardigan snugly around you, sliding an arm behind your back and resting his forehead against yours. Admiring the way your sleep-deprived eyes drooped adorably, he grinned softly, biting his lip. His other hand cupped your face as he whispered, "Just hold on a little longer, love. You'll get to rest soon."

You nodded with a pout, and the sight of your tempting pink, soft lips made a sigh escape his mouth. "Good girl," he muttered before leaning in to capture your lips.

His heart skipped a beat when, despite your exhaustion, you responded to his kiss almost instinctively, though a bit more sluggish than usual. His heart swelled with affection at how your body reacted to him, knowing it was only for him. Stroking your cheeks lovingly, he deepened the kiss, only to let out a disappointed whine when the elevator dinged too soon.

You giggled, gently pushing him away. "You know we can continue in the car, right?" His excitement reignited at the suggestion. Insisting he'd help you with your things and settling you in the passenger seat first, he felt his heart flutter as he hurried to the driver's seat. "Alright, where were we?" he asked eagerly, only to find you fast asleep.

Of course, she's asleep. What did I expect?

He chuckled in disbelief, securing your seatbelt and shaking his head in amusement. As he started driving, he slipped his hand into yours, smiling when he felt your fingers unconsciously curling around his.

God, how he loved you.

ATEEZ Masterlist

This is me failing miserably at my "try to stay loyal to Park Seonghwa challenge" because what the hell is Jung Wooyoung so attractive for? The way bro made me write the longest timestamp to date...

Also, guess who clowned herself thinking she could post the first part of Mingi's TWTHH spinoff this weekend?🤡 it's only 1k+ words in so far, I was out all day yesterday and didn't get to write much huhu but hopefully by next week, it'll be out! Hopefully🤞🏻

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #ateez timestamps #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez drabbles #wooyoung drabble #wooyoung fluff #ateez fic #ateez imagines

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sunflowerandstrawberryspice · 21 hours

Text

It took way to long to do this drawing but now it's done and I really do like how it came out! Also yes I have completely overhauled my Cole design and I'll make a new character sheet eventually!

Now I do want to very briefly address something that has been going around the internet and it's the whole discourse about Cole and Geo possibly becoming an item at some point. I'm not going to go out an say everyone has to like it that is not my intention! I personally enjoy the ship (and others) BUT disliking the ship does NOT give people a pass to be disrespectful and flat our hateful in certain circumstances!

The sheer amount of homophobia I have seen since season 2 of DR came out is honestly concerning and I know it's probably not the majority but is a concerningly loud group of people. I think it's ironic that a show that has been about accepting people even if they're different since as far back as season one (Zane and Cole's true potential episodes being the examples) has people so mad that they might being including people of different groups. I honestly just think it's a shame that people can be so hateful.

Anyways that's my rant of the weekend lol, I just hope that people can generally just be more nice!

#ninjago #spinjitzu #ninjago secrets of the forbidden spinjitzu #cole ninjago #ninjago cole #cole brookstone #cole x geo #geo ninjago #dragons rising ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #gay #queer artwork #savemyboycole is so dumb that every time I see it I genuinely end up laughing my ass off

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darkbluekies · 1 day

Text

(Husband) Dr Kry & Hedwig drabbles: summer day activities

Yandere!doctor & yandere!richgirl

Warnings: none, this is probably as fluffy as you can come

Dr Kry:

For once, you are allowed out of the white edwardian villa and allowed to take a walk among society. Dr Kry is wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of sand colored shorts. His blonde hair is brushed back and over his eyes are a pair of sunglasses. Summer brings out a more laid back version of him.

"Hey, hey, come here", he says as you start to walk away from the car. "You need sunscreen."

He helps cover your face with it. He's careful with his fingers, making sure not to poke you in the eye.

He holds your hand as you start to walk. You walk through greenery, past wooden houses in red and white, and by harbors with sailboats. It seems like all of Sweden population is out at the same time because you pass by more people than you have seen in years. Everyone else wants to enjoy the sunshine. Dr Kry doesn't greet anyone as they walk pass, and neither do them. He gives them a small, awkward smile and moves you closer in case you're about to walk into to someone.

"Karl, can we buy ice cream?" you ask as you walk by a kiosk.

"Sure, what flavor do you want?" he asks and takes out his wallet from his pocket.

"Mango", you say excitedly. "I haven't tried that before."

Dr Kry orders from the woman behind the counter.

"You should take some too", you say. "Don't pick the coffee one, you always take that one."

He sighs and looks at the different flavors.

"And a salted licorice for me, thank you", he says.

"Come on ...", you mutter.

"Don't knock it til you try it", Dr Kry smiles over his shoulder.

He pays and thanks the woman behind the counter. He gives you your paper cup and a small plastic spoon. The mango ice cream is refreshing, reminding you of sorbet. You get to try ice cream from Dr Kry’s spoon and you cough at the salty taste. Dr Kry chuckles and takes a bite.

You take lunch at an old café. Kry picks up his phone and snaps a picture of you that he immediately puts as his lockscreen.

"Can we please do this again?"

Hedwig:

Her pool is the perfect temperature. The two of you are planning to spend the entire day out by the pool. Hedwig have bought a new pink bikini that's she had forced you to help find. It took her three hours to decide on one.

"I'm thirsty", you say and sit up on your sun chair. "Would be nice to have something to drink."

"Trudy!" she shouts.

A small, older lady comes out through the doors.

"Yes, miss Hedwig?" she asks.

"Couls you please bring us something to drink?" Hedwig wonders. "And please make sure there are lots of ice!"

The woman nods and walks back inside. You sit down on Hedwig’s chair, eventually laying down. She guides your head to her bare stomach where you rest your cheek on her burning skin. She plays with your wet hair.

"We're going out with the sailboat in two weeks", she says. "We're going to sail around the Mediterranean. I want you to come. It won't be fun without you."

Her "sailboat" could very well be a small yacht.

"I don't know", you mumble.

Her father scares the living hell out of you.

"Oh, come on, you have to!" she whines. "I won't go without you. It'll be fun. We will visit all sorts if places. You have to come."

Trudy returns with two glasses of lemonade and ridiculously many ice cubes. The two of you thank her and start to gulp it down.

"Y/N get up, let's swim", Hedwig says and taps your shoulder.

She brings out a floating ring and tries to climb into it. You push her into the pool, hearing her scream cut off.

"Fuck you, Y/N!" she coughs and hurries to swim to the ladder. "You have to let me push you in now-"

"No, no-" you try, but she grabs your arms with an evil giggle.

"In you go!"

You're pushed into the water and hear her laugh. Hedwig jumps in afterwards and hugs you under water, smiling widely. She kisses you quickly before diving.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere drabble #yandere doctor #yandere rich girl #yandere female

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syoddeye · 17 hours

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333. unedited. +18. abduction. noncon. pet play.

the 141 using the 3 days, 3 weeks, 3 months rule on you. because if they are anything, they are responsible owners. they have a system.

they spend the first 3 days helping you 'adjust' to your new life. piling their dirty laundry in your crate or designated area. the only soft things in there, forcing you to get used to their stink while you cry and sleep. they probably confine you to the bathroom or a utility room, somewhere small with easy-to-wash floors. naturally, price is in charge of you in the early days, but he's careful. minimal contact besides feeding and making sure you can't hurt yourself. it's meant to be a 'safe spot', wherever they put you.

during the first three weeks, price introduces the men one at a time. each introduction is a little different, and they learn a bit more about you—what posturing works, what scares you, which tone to use, and the right words. once you understand who they are and the pecking order, they introduce you to the rest of the home. you get to use the toilet and bathe, under supervision, of course.

they train you in basic commands and exercise you in the yard after showing you there's nothing for miles around. their hands linger when they ruffle your hair or stroke your back, but it isn't until week two that they break you in. each of them escalates, becoming rougher and more demanding. it's all a test of your obedience. depending on your behavior, you're allowed up on the furniture at the end of the three weeks, but you still sleep in your safe spot.

by the time the first 3 months pass, you're mostly accustomed to your new reality. you follow commands without thought. curl up at their feet first, needing the invitation before you crawl on to a lap.

something momentous happens close to the ninety-day mark. price tells you in a few short hours, his friends nik and kate are coming over, and they're bringing their pets for a playdate.

eventually, your visitors arrive. it takes some coaxing to get you out from behind their legs. so hesitant to talk to other people, especially ones with the same sick inclinations. nik and kate praise your docility, though a strange comment from the latter, something about 'codding you', gives you pause.

you're excused to spend time outside with the other pets. as you approach, you observe them resting together, apparently content to laze in the sun. they seem healthy and well-fed. they're washed and clothed. your voice is quiet and shaky. giving the little flames of hope and defiance the oxygen they need to grow is difficult. but you do. you ask in a whisper, what if we work together? make a run for it?

the two exchange a confused look before they look back at you. and bark.

#141 x reader #mind the tags at the top of the post please #unedited #dropping this and never picking it back up

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kisses4kaia · 2 days

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I saw you needed challengers asks and I am here!!!

patrick encouraging art to try snd be rough with you—and explore your ass. patrick has a way with his dirty words, saying something along the lines of "you'll like it more, knowing how much you like warm and tight holes." and patrick is probably speaking from experience.

art's struggling to keep himself grounded when he first rubs his cock against your wet slit, wetting it before going in your ass, constantly checking if you're in pain or discomfort. he's a desperate little puppy that humps you from behind as art reaches to rub your clit.

you guys eventually switch positions, with art still fucking your ass hole and patrick licking your pussy.

THEYRE SO HOT AND MESSY UGH.

WHO was who again? your brain was effectively melted as the muscle on your clit moved down, down, and further til it reached the stretch of your asshole around a rutting cock. the cacophony of disgusting noises confused you further: the whimpers and pleads from a distantly familiar male voice above you, the slippery kisses the mouth is planting on your perineum, and patrick’s leading voice on top of it all. “go on, art. she likes it rough, don’t go easy, man.” he places his hands on art’s naked hip and gently eases his pistoning pelvis into your ass with more vigor than art thought you could handle.

but you could. you took it like a champ and patrick couldn’t be more smug. “look at you, dirty whore. letting my best friend use you however he wants. god, you like this so much, don’t you?” he spits venomously at you through kisses on your engorged clit promptly before slapping it. his words and stark actions have your squirming and begging for more, less, harder, gentler, and patrick finds it endearing how fucked out you are.

“patrick—patrick, im so close, shit. w-where do i do it?” art’s timid voice reaches your ears but don’t really register until patrick responds. “you wanna do it inside? man, it’s so pretty to see it drip out,” his voice is so enticing, the image popped right into art’s mind like a child with a lollipop, and he can only whimper and nod dumbly.

soon, you’re crying and on your second orgasm as art determinedly slams his hips into the fat of your ass, again, and again, and again, until he lets out a moan that’s so fucking pathetic you would have laughed had you been in a grounded state of mind. patrick’s unforgiving tongue had still yet to cease its rain of pleasure and overstimulation on your poor pussy—as art rode out his own orgasm, patrick gifted you with two more life-shattering, brilliant, climaxes that had you pushing on his chest and shaking your head, “no more,”.

dozing off between your two favorite boys, you catch the beginnings of their last conversation of the night. “you were right, man,” art says once you’re bathed and kissed and fed and tucked in. “i 100% liked that more.”

patrick can only smile, pressing another kiss onto the top of your head. “knew you would.”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#ugh love asks like these #artsy nd tricky🎾#kai's got mail <3📑#angelnon 🤍#art donaldson smut #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson blurb #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers smut #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut

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kenzlovesyou · 1 day

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hi bby!! can you do something for kate where like kate just adores reader but reader is a acedemic weapon and like is oblivious and kate is so down bad??? kind of like so high school by taylor?? brownie points if reader is

short cause kate is super tall!!!

ahh i love this idea so much ur so cute also this isn’t the best i’m sorry if you don’t like it!!

Not Like You - Kate Martin x Reader

Kate adored you. It was as simple as that. She admired every little thing you did. Whether it was watching you study for an exam, mesmerized by the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders, or studying your features as you reapplied your lip gloss in the mirror, she loved to look at you.

Even when the two of you had just met, Kate was in deep. She’d met you at the university’s library. She had come in to look for a book to use as a source for a paper she was writing and she was starstruck when she turned the corner and saw you sitting there at a table with your nose in a book. She had been feeling confident, after the hawkeye’s win a few days prior. Kate sat next to you and struck up a conversation about the book you were reading. You were more than happy to talk to her.

Ever since that day, you and Kate were super close. She followed you around like a lost puppy. The two of you fit together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. To you, Kate was the best friend you wished you’d had by your side all throughout high school. She always made you smile and laugh and was always there for you through everything. You started to wish a guy made you feel the way Kate made you feel.

But to Kate, you were so much more than that. To her you were an angel sent to her from up above. The more time passed, the more you and Kate became attached at the hip. You often streamed Kate’s games and even decided to watch a couple in person when you could pull yourself away from your studies. Kate, not knowing you’d be there, was shocked and surprised. She hid behind Caitlin so she could steal looks at you. You made her nervous. She noticed how her cheeks grew pink over the twinkling lights and she realized something: you weren’t just her friend. You made her feel like a teenager again, the giddiness and nervousness she felt around you.

A couple months later, Kate invited you over to her apartment to hangout with her and some of her teammates. You’d accepted, surprisingly, and the team welcomed you with open arms. Kate saw the way you quickly bonded with her teammates and her heart swelled. She was happy with her two worlds colliding, the team and you. You leaned into Kate’s shoulder as she sat down next to you on her spacious couch. The two of you had gotten more and more physically affectionate.

“Guys,” Jada started to say from her spot on the couch, “we should totally play kiss, marry, kill!” Everyone laughed at her idea, but eventually agreed to it as they were all pretty bored. “Caitlin. Kiss, marry, kill.. Jake from State Farm, Steph Curry, and Connor.” You all giggled at Jada’s choices for Caitlin and listened to her answer. “Honestly out of all of those I’d probably have to kill Connor, kiss Steph Curry, and marry Jake.” Everyone exploded into laughter. You excused yourself and went to the bathroom, with Gabbie following you because she had to go as well. When you were gone, Caitlin decided to take the lead in the girls’ matchmaker plan.

“Okay, Kate your turn. Kiss, marry, kill…Y/n.” Kate looked at her confused. “What? Bro, you literally just said Y/n.” Jada and Caitlin rolled their eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, with the way you look at her it’ll probably be all three.” Kate’s jaw dropped and she let out an audible gasp.

“Is it really that obvious?” Caitlin and Jada both deadpanned, “Yes.”

Meanwhile, you finished your bathroom turn and heard a soft knock on the door. “You can come in, I’m just washing my hands!” You called out to whoever was outside the door. Gabbie turned the knob and walked inside the cozy but still spacious bathroom space.

“Hey, girl! How’s is going?” You smiled at Gabbie. She seemed like such a sweet person and you warmed up to her pretty quickly. The two of you talked for a couple minutes, making small talk and conversation. Then, it was Gabbie’s turn to execute her part of the plan. “So, how are things with Kate?” You looked at her, extremely confused.

“What do you mean? She’s my best friend, we’re great, just like always. Why? Wait, did she say something? Does she think we’re not-“

“Nononono! Not like that at all! I just meant. Well. How do I even say this..” Gabbie paused and you looked at her expectantly. “Y/n, do you notice the way Kate looks at you?” You were beyond confused. Did Kate look at you differently? Was it something you’d done? What made her think of you differently? When had it started? Among all the questions in your head, one was louder than the others. How exactly did Kate look at you?

Gabbie pulled you out of your thoughts by putting a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, come on girl! She looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Suddenly something in you clicked. You thought back to all of the times Kate had you over to hangout, just the two of you. How she coaxed you into watching scary movies and let you hold onto her when it got too scary. How she’s taken you on more dates than any guy ever has. How she’s always been your person to lean on as long as you’ve known her, and she’s been yours. You thought about her hair, and how she’d always begged you to braid it for her games so she’d have good luck. You thought about her eyes, and how they gleamed and sparkled everytime she looked at you. You thought, ‘Shit. I’m gay. AND I’m in love with my best friend.’ But that part was thought out loud and Gabbie let out a smile.

“Glad you figured it out. I’m here if you need anything or wanna-“ Gabbie couldn’t even finish before you rushed out of the bathroom and back into the living room. You sat down on the couch next to Kate and grabbed her close to you, putting you lips to her ear. “Can we talk?” Kate nodded immediately and excused the both of you and you lead her to the bathroom and you Gabbie had just been in, Gabbie shooting you a thumbs up as she walked past you in the hall.

You closed the door behind you and hoisted yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting and letting your legs dangle off. You turned your back to her and stared at yourself in the mirror, silently trying to hype yourself up after such a new discovery. Kate looked at you expecting you to say something. “Did you bring me in here so we could both admire you in the mirror? Because if that’s the case then-“

“Kate, I’m gay. I like girls, no, well yes, but a girl. I like a girl and I’m really scared because I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. Or a guy, really. No one. They’re just not like you, Kate. Nobody’s like you. I’ve just figured this out literally five minutes ago but it all makes sense now and just-“ Kate cuts you off by pulling you into her chest. She doesn’t kiss you. Not because she doesn’t want to, of course she does, but she knows how new and scary this must feel to you and she doesn’t want to overwhelm you anymore. She wipes the tears that were forming in your eyes and beginning to drop away in a swift motion, “It’s okay, Y/n. Nothing we don’t want to change has to change.” You look up at her and all you can do was smile. Even in this, she’s your rock.

“Okay,” you say smiling, “you got that you were the girl I like though, right?” Kate rolled her eyes and pulled you into another hug.

“I think I got that before you even did.”

#kate martin x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #wnba x reader #wnba basketball #wnba #kate martin #wlw #wlw post #wbb #wbb x reader

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yzzyhee · 23 hours

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HEARTBREAK GIRL - sjy

PAIRING: bff!sim jaeyun x yn

WARNING: pet name (angel, baby) lmk if i missed anything, slight angst..? a lot of feelings involved, kinda mean heeseung??

WC: ~5k more or less

SYNOPSIS: jake has always been there for you through thick and thin — he was always there to take away your hurt, as he was your cure, but when were you going to realise?

PLAYLIST: 5sos - heartbreak girl

A.N: hi everyone i just wanted to say quickly that it’s my first written fic, i have no idea what im doing tbf but i just really really liked the idea for a while and decided to give it a shot .. i truly accept any constructive criticism you might have idm this will probably be the first and last time i post something but ! do let me know what you guys think, it would mean a lot !!

ps. this one is dedicated to my wife @ja3yun seriously couldn’t have done it without ur advices so seriously tysm bb!!

I. “YOU CALL ME UP // IT’S LIKE A BROKEN RECORD // SAYING THAT YOUR HEART HURTS”

Jake sighs as his phone buzzes. Picking it up he sees your caller ID and for a split of a second he doesn’t want to pick up the call. As he glances at the phone he lets himself wonder what a different life would be like; if somehow in another life he could stop caring and ignore you.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath — that could never be a possibility. He’s sure that if that another life actually exists, the universe would somehow bring him together with you and all of this would eventually happen.

“Y/N?” he answers, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Jake…” you manag to say even though your friend can barely hear your voice. “He broke up with me.” you said as a sob escaped from you.

Jake feels like his own heart is shattering. Not for your and Heeseung’s relationship that was over for now but mostly for himself. He’d seen you go through this too many times, always falling for the wrong boys and always ending up heartbroken.

“It just hurts so bad, Jake..” you cry, your voice breaking.

As you continued crying and uttering words that made Jake’s heart drop at how you seem to hate yourself now, he feels like he could punch Heeseung if he were to see him now. Even though he has been there for you through many of your previous heartbreaks and also fights with Heeseung he never heard you cry so bad.

“Hey, Y/N.. Listen to me. Take deep breaths, stop crying, angel, please.” Jake says softly and it makes you stop crying over the phone for a bit.

“You’re more than just a pretty face, okay? Don’t listen to him. You’re smart, you’re kind and you’re wicked funny.. And I guarantee there’s a guy out there who will see what I see, okay?”

You take a sharp breath and nodd but quickly mutter a “Yes” as you realize he can’t see you through the phone.

“I just.. Why does this keep happening, Jake? Why are all the guys I end up with always such assholes?”

“It’s not you, angel. You’re really amazing, you know? Sometimes people like him… just don’t realize what they have right in front of them until it’s too late. He will definitely come crawling back to you in no time.” Jake says in a playful tone but his words held some truth — even through your fights Heeseung always came back.

You chuckle and it makes Jake smile. He hates seeing or hearing you cry, especially when it’s about your relationships and how you always deem yourself unworthy of love from anyone when it’s your boyfriends who just can’t appreciate you.

“Thank you, Jake. Thank you for being a friend. It’s so late right now..I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Jake chuckles as well. “You never bother me, angel.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow at 10.”

Then the phone call abruptly comes to an end and Jake sighs for the second time that night. He knows you won’t call, especially if Heeseung puts his ego aside and comes back to you tonight.

He takes the pillow from under his head and places it on top, muffling a scream as his own mind and especially you liked to play him in circles again and again.

II. HE TREATS YOU SO BAD AND I’M SO GOOD TO YOU, IT’S NOT FAIR

“Okay, enough.” Jake says as he looks away from you and Heeseung’s display of affection. “I’m seriously happy you got back together but I am still third-wheeling here…” he lies gritting his teeth.

To you it looks like he is actually happy for you and just annoyed by your public display of love with Heeseung but in reality? No, in reality he simply can’t stand seeing you act so in love with the boy when just three days ago he insulted you, called you mean words and broke it off. Just for him to come back to you, act all sad, say sorry and you forgive him just like that.

You push Heeseung slightly off you and lean closer to Jake to take his hand in yours, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, Heeseung just really wanted to come to the drive-in movie and I couldn’t say no..”

Heeseung drags you back into him and puts a hand over your shoulder while the other is sneaking between your thighs. You giggle and slap his hand away while muttering that “Jake is right here”. Jake quickly adverts his eyes, finding the movie on the playing suddenly interesting.

“Oh, it’s getting rather chilly…” you say after a few minutes and look longingly at your boyfriend, hoping for him to get the message and give you his jacket.

“I told you to bring a jacket, dummy.” Heeseung says, rolling his eyes but making no move of giving his jacket to his girlfriend. “How about you go get us some drinks, baby? Maybe if you move a bit you can get warm.”

Jake shakes his head at his words and scoffs. He takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. “Here, Y/N.”

You smile gratefully at Jake, your eyes softening. “ Thank you, Jake. You’re the best.”

“Anytime,” Jake replies, his voice gentle. He glances at Heeseung, his expression hardening. “You should take better care of her, man.”

Heeseung shrugged, not even bothering to spare Jake a look. “She’s fine. She can handle herself.”

Jake clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to say something more. He hates how Heeseung keeps treating you, how he takes you for granted and never caring. He treats you so bad and he’s so good to you — it just wasn’t fair.

During the movie that Jake paid no attention to , he couldn’t help but compare himself to Heeseung. What does Heeseung have that he doesn’t? Is it the hair, the stupid leather jacket he always wears, the bambi eyes, the way he carries himself with such confidence or the way he seems to effortlessly attract attention wherever he goes?

Or maybe you just happen to like the way Heeseung makes you feel after all. The excitement of the chase, the push and pull, the high and low that came with every fight and every word in it, making it hurt but also giving you a rush feeling.

But he knows you. In the long run you don’t actually want all of that. As he steals a glance at the two of you, he feels like he could scream out right now that you could be with him now. He could offer you love, stability. He decides to push off that idea out of his mind as fast as it came. You are happy with Heeseung for now and that’s all that matters.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch that brings him back to the present. He looks up to see you, seeing your soft smile but when he looks into your eyes he sees sadness lingering behind them.

“Hey, we’re going to head out… Heeseung needs to meet up with some friends.” you say quietly to Jake, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake frowns, feeling frustrated. “You can stay, can’t you? You love this movie!” he exclaims, his voice louder than he intends, hoping that Heeseung can hear the disappointment in his voice.

You purse your lips and shake your head. With a low voice you mutter an apology and start to take his jacket off to return it to him but he stops you.

“Keep it.” Jake tells you offering a smile that doesn’t quite reaches his eyes.

You nod, getting up quickly and follow Heeseung to leave the drive-in movie location. You take one look back to wave goodbye at Jake, seeing him standing there, his eyes locked on you.

Jake watches you leave, the weight of unspoken words heavy on his heart. He waves back, his smile fading as soon as you turn away.

He closes his eyes and looks up at the sky, the cool night air brushing against his skin. The stars twinkle above, indifferent to his inner turmoil. He takes a deep breath, the chilly air filling his lungs, and lets it out slowly, his breath visible in the night air.

In the silence of the drive-in, the sound of distant car engines and the murmur of people leaving fill the background, but Jake is lost in his thoughts. He thinks about all the moments he’s shared with you, the laughter, the tears, and the quiet times where just being near you was enough. He thinks about the way Heeseung treats you, and it makes his chest tighten with frustration and longing.

Jake opens his eyes, the stars still sparkling above, offering no answers, no solace. He knows he can’t keep this to himself much longer. The longer he waits, the more he sees you getting hurt, the more it eats away at him. But he can’t do it. He knows you need to know that someone out there loves you deeply but what if it his feelings would ruin everything for good? For now, all he can do is be there for you, as he always has been. He turns away from the screen, walking slowly to his car. As he gets in and starts the engine, he glances back at the empty space where you had been sitting, the memory of your sad smile etched in his mind.

III. SOMETIMES I’M SO CLOSE TO CONFESSION

Jake sits in his room, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. For weeks now, he’s been wrestling with the idea of confessing his feelings to you, his best friend and the person he cares about most in the world. But every time he tries to gather the courage to tell you how he feels, his fears and insecurities hold him back, trapping him in a cycle of doubt and self-pity.

“Hey, Jake, are you listening?” your voice takes him out of his thoughts. You get up from the bed and go sit on the desk chair next to him.

“No, sorry.” Jake smile sheepishly. “You were saying?” he attempts to play it off.

You roll your eyes. “I was talking about this new book coming up…” you trail off, talking about the upcoming release of your favourite author.

Jake can’t help but let himself watch you. He thinks about the way you smile, the way your soft giggle fills the room and makes his heart skip a beat and the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about just like now.

And as he listens to you talk, he can’t help but feel a sense of longing wash over him, a longing to tell you how he feels, to lay his heart bare and risk it all for the chance at something more.

“Y/N I-“ Jake suddenly interrupts you but his bravery doesn’t last long.

As the moment passes, the words stick in his throat, suffocating him with their weight. He wants to tell you, he really does, but the fear of rejection holds him back, paralyzing him with its grip.

“Yes? Did you want to say something?” you ask him and look up to him just to see him shake his head and motioning for you to continue talking about the book.

And so he sits there, silent and still, watching you with a mixture of adoration and regret, wishing he could find the courage to take the leap and tell you how he feels.

As you continue to talk, oblivious to the turmoil raging within him, Jake can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold you in his arms, to kiss you under the stars, to whisper words of love into your ear. But for now, all he can do is watch and wait, hoping that one day, he’ll find the strength to confess his feelings and take a chance on love.

“You will come with me, right?” you say to him suddenly. “To the book release? Heeseung doesn’t want to come, he thinks it’s silly..”

Jake's heart skips a beat at your words, his mind racing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness but also anger towards Heeseung — how could he think your passion, your hobby is something silly and telling you that to your face nonetheless? Jake keeps those thoughts of your boyfriend to himself. However the thought of spending time alone with you again, of being by your side as you indulge in something you love and hanging out just like old times, fills him with a sense of warmth and anticipation.

“Of course, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft.“I’d love to come with you.”

A smile spreads across your face, and Jake feels his heart swell with happiness at the sight. For a moment, everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment together.

And as you talk excitedly about the upcoming event, Jake can't help but feel a sense of hope stir within him. Maybe this is his chance, his opportunity to finally confess his feelings and take a chance on love. And as he looks into your eyes, he knows that no matter what happens, he'll always be there for you, ready to support you and cherish every moment you share together.

IV. I’M RIGHT HERE, WHEN YOU GONNA REALISE // THAT I’M YOUR CURE?

“Heeseung, what’s gotten into you?” you ask, frustration clear in your tone as you watch him pace around your living room.

Heeseung stops and scoffs. “Are you serious?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ever since he tagged along to the the drive-in movie hang out between you and Jake and then found out you went with Jake to your book release event he started to act out. He rejects your ideas to go out on a date, he rejects initiating any kind of intimacy to you — even refusing to hold your hand, something he’s never done in your 6 months relationship.

You can’t help but feel confused and hurt by his sudden change in behaviour. He used to be so affectionate even if you had a fight and was always eager to show you off on dates and such but now he seems like a completely different person.

“Seriously, Heeseung. Talk to me, what’s going on?” you press, your voice tinged with worry.

Heeseung looks at you and steps closer. “You’re in love, baby.” he says while putting a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling softly. “But not with me.”

“What?” you say, your mind racing as you try to process what he just said.

“I think you should give Jake a call.” Heeseung continues, his expression earnest though you can’t help but feel puzzled by his sudden insight. Heeseung chuckles. “C’mon, baby. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? How your eyes always light up when he’s around or how you always talk about him when he’s not and bring him up whenever there’s an opportunity? Or how you always compare what I do with what he does?”

You part your lips slightly, caught off guard by his observations. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, sparking a flurry of emotions within you.

“But… I…” you stammer, struggling to find the words to express the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind.

Heeseung reaches out, gently cupping your face in his hands. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says softly. “I understand. Hell, I’d fall in love with the guy too if he were to always drop everything and be at my beck and call. How did you not realise everything sooner? I swear, he has been so obvious the past weeks.” he chuckles. “Actually, did you know he had a presentation on the day you went with him to the book release? He talked with his professor to present it earlier so he could come with you.”

Heeseung’s words hit you like a sudden gust of winter wind, cutting through the air with their sharpness and leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. His observations about Jake’s actions leave you reeling, the realization sinking in like a heavy weight on your chest.

“I… I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to process the information. “I didn’t realize he was going out of his way for me…”

Heeseung’s hands drop from your face, his expression softening with understanding. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says gently, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of the storm raging inside you. “Sometimes, it’s hard to see things clearly when you’re too close to them.”

You nod slowly, feeling a sense of guilt wash over you at the thought of all the times you may have overlooked Jake’s gestures of affection. How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the depth of his love for you?

Heeseung leans in closer and kisses your forehead. It’s a tender, lingering kiss, filled with a mixture of sadness and acceptance. He pulls back, looking into your eyes one last time with a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you, and you can feel the finality in his actions. He turns and walks towards the door.

You watch him leave, your heart aching as he steps out of your apartment. The door closes behind him with a soft click, and you stand there, feeling a profound sense of loss. Part of you wants to run after him, to call him back and somehow make everything right. But you know that some things can’t be fixed with a few words.

You move to the window and peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Heeseung, hoping he would turn back and give you one last look. But the street below is empty, and the cold night air feels like a reflection of the unresting feeling inside you.

For the first time after a break-up, you don’t call Jake. You take the night to yourself, the silence of your apartment enveloping you like a cold winter's night. Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and heartache, the echoes of Heeseung's words lingering like a biting chill.

As you sit alone, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, your thoughts turn to Jake. The realisation that he might have deeper feelings for you sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve always seen him as your rock, your dependable best friend, but now, faced with the possibility that his feelings might run deeper, you feel an icy grip of uncertainty and fear tighten around your heart.

You think about all the moments you’ve shared with Jake, the late-night conversations, the inside jokes, the way he’s always been there for you. How could you have been so blind to his feelings? The thought of potentially hurting him, of disrupting the comfortable dynamic you’ve always shared, fills you with a sense of dread. It’s like stepping out into the harsh winter wind, unsure if you’ll be able to find your way back to the warmth and safety you’ve known.

You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself, seeking comfort in its embrace, but your mind continues to spiral. What if you don’t feel the same way? What if your feelings for Jake are merely a reflection of your gratitude and dependence on his unwavering support? The thought of leading him on, of giving him false hope, sends a pang of guilt through you. The guilt eats at you for not noticing sooner, for being so wrapped up in your own relationships and dramas that you missed the quiet, steady love that Jake might have been offering all along. It’s a chilling thought, realizing how much you might have overlooked in your pursuit of fleeting romances with others.

Your heart and mind feel like a frozen landscape, barren and cold, with no clear path forward. You can’t deny the flutter of something more when you think of Jake, but it’s buried under layers of confusion and fear. You’ve been through so much heartache, and the idea of risking your most cherished friendship for a chance at something more feels like walking on thin ice, fragile and treacherous.

The night wears on, and the cold, empty silence of your apartment presses down on you. You long for the warmth of Jake’s presence, his soothing voice and reassuring words, but you know you can’t run to him this time. You need to sort through your feelings, to understand what’s real and what’s born out of loneliness and a desire for comfort.

As the hours pass, you come to a bittersweet realization. You need to protect Jake from potential heartbreak, to shield him from the uncertainty that’s freezing your heart. You care for him too much to risk his happiness on your unresolved feelings. And so, for the first time, you decide to face this winter storm on your own, hoping that in the process, you’ll find clarity and the strength to either embrace or gently let go of what could be.

Tomorrow, you’ll see him, and maybe the warmth of his smile will melt some of the ice around your heart. But tonight, you wrap yourself tighter in your blanket and let the winter winds of your emotions rage on, knowing that some answers can only be found in the stillness of the cold.

You don’t see him tomorrow. Instead, you chose to run from him, from his feelings and your own. The weight of your confusion and fear makes you retreat further into yourself, wrapping the cold, comforting solitude around you like a protective cloak. You bury yourself in college work, books and anything that can keep your mind occupied. Yet, in the quiet moments — those still, silent spaces between the busyness — your thoughts inevitably drift back to Jake.

The look in Jake’s eyes when he’s with you haunts you. It’s a look filled with warmth and unspoken words. A look that now seems so painfully clear in hindsight. It’s as if he’s always been there, offering you a love as constant and reassuring as the summer sun, yet you were too caught up in the fleeting, cold winter winds of other relationships to notice.

Jake’s feelings for you feel like a warm summer day. They’re gentle and persistent, bringing light and comfort into your life without demanding anything in return. His love is the kind that warms you from the inside out, melting away the icy barriers you’ve built around your heart. But now, the fear of stepping into that warmth, of risking the friendship you hold so dear, keeps you trapped in a winter of your own making.

Meanwhile, Jake is left adrift, confused and hurt by your sudden withdrawal. He tries to seek you out, to understand why you’re avoiding him, but every attempt is met with distance. He feels like he’s chasing shadows, reaching out for something that slips further away with each passing day. He even tried to talk with Heeseung, hoping that the man knows something of why you’re acting this way towards him but much like you, Heeseung avoided him.

As the days turn into a week, the winter storm within you begins to show signs of weakening. The relentless busyness that you’ve thrown yourself into can’t keep the feelings at bay forever. In those quiet moments, when you’re alone with your thoughts, you start to feel the warmth of Jake’s love seeping through the cracks in your icy defenses.

You remember the way he looked at you, the gentle, unspoken promises in his eyes. The realization that you’ve been running from something so genuine, so pure, starts to thaw the fear and confusion that have held you captive. The warmth of Jake’s love begins to melt the ice around your heart, and you start to see things more clearly.

You know you can’t avoid him forever. The thought of hurting Jake, of causing him pain with your indecision, is unbearable. You decide that it’s time to face your feelings, to confront the truth that you’ve been so afraid of. You owe it to Jake, and to yourself, to be honest about what’s in your heart.

With a deep breath, you pick up your phone and send him a message, asking to meet. The anticipation of seeing him again fills you with a mix of dread and hope. You know the conversation ahead will be difficult, but it’s the only way to move forward.

As you wait for his response, you feel a sense of clarity. The journey ahead might be uncertain, but you’re ready to step into the light, to embrace the summer warmth that Jake’s love promises. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find that the path you’re most afraid of is the one that leads you to the happiness you’ve been searching for.

“Ofcourse. When and where?”

His response is immediate, no hesitation, no hint of the confusion and hurt you know he must be feeling. The simplicity of his words, the readiness to meet despite everything, brings a small, bittersweet smile to your face. You suggest a quiet café near campus, a place you both know well, and set a time for the next afternoon.

The next day, as you make your way to the café, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth of the spring sun on your face feels like a promise, a gentle reassurance that everything might just be okay. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and step inside.

Jake is already there, sitting at a corner table. The sight of him sends a rush of emotions through you — relief, nervousness and a profound sense of familiarity. He looks up as you approach, and his puppy like smile is like a beacon of warmth cutting through your lingering uncertainty.

“Hey,” he says softly, standing up to greet you.

“Hey,” you reply, your voice a little shaky. You both sit down, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence. Jake’s eyes search your face, and you can see the questions and concern in them.

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just needed some time to think.”

Jake nods, his expression understanding but guarded. “I’ve been worried about you,” he admits. “I didn’t know what was going on, and I… I missed you.”

His words hit you like a gentle breeze, warm and reassuring, but also filled with a depth of emotion that makes your heart ache. “I missed you too,” you confess. “I needed to figure out some things… about us, about my feelings.”

Jake’s eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope and fear crossing his face. “Us?Your feelings?” he echoes, his voice tense with anticipation.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Jake, you’ve always been there for me. You’ve been my rock, my best friend, and… I’ve realized that maybe, I’ve been blind to something that’s been right in front of me all along.”

His eyes are locked onto yours, and you can see the hope growing, the warmth in his gaze like the sun breaking through the clouds after a cold cold winter day. “What do you mean?” he asks softly.

“I mean…” you struggle to find the right words, the right way to express the tumult of emotions inside you. “I think I’ve been so caught up in my own fears and insecurities that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. You’ve always been there, and I’ve come to realize that… that I care about you, Jake. More than just as a friend.”

There, it’s out. You think as you let the words out of your mouth. The words hang in the air between you, a confession that feels both terrifying and liberating. Jake’s expression softens, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion flooding his face.

“I’ve cared about you for a long time.. I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner,” he admits, his voice shaking slightly. “I didn’t know how to tell you without risking what we have. But hearing you say that… it means everything to me.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours. The simple touch feels like a lifeline, grounding you in this moment of vulnerability and honesty. “I’m scared, Jake,” you confess. “I’m scared of losing what we have, but I’m more scared of never knowing what we could be.”

Jake squeezes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “We’ll figure it out together,” he promises. “We’ve always been there for each other, and that won’t change. I want to be with you, Y/N. Not just as your friend, but as someone who loves you.”

His words are like the first true warmth of summer, melting away the last of your fears. You smile, a genuine, hopeful smile, and nod. “I want that too, Jake. I want to see where this goes, with you.”

As you sit there, hand in hand, you feel the ice around your heart finally melt away, replaced by the warmth and promise of a new beginning. The journey ahead might be uncertain, but with Jake by your side, you know you’ll face it together, one step at a time.

#— 💭 mars ; written work #i had no idea what i was doing its 2am #enhypen jake fic #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #enha x reader #enha angst #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen imagines #jake imagines

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corvidcrossbow · 2 days

Text

Daryl's the kinda guy to have a small table in the living room that has the puzzle he's been slowly working on for practically months set out on it – he delicately moves it in front of the couch then sits and silently works on it some evenings, expect for little grunts of understanding when he finally figures out a certain section he was stumped on.

He gets so flustered when you come over to look, standing beside the couch and rubbing his shoulder for a little bit while admiring his work, and he so shyly says a thanks, sheepishly reaching for the next piece while you watch for a little.

He likes to go do it some nights where he can't sleep and feels like he's gonna disturb you by just lying awake next to you in bed, usually when he's having a harder time emotionally – this gives him something to do rather than sulk, even though the thoughts still do get to him while he's working on it sometimes.

Oh god and once he probably went to do that, but Dog came over and had a bit too much energy and knocked the table just enough for everything to slide off and crumble to the floor, ruined.

He just sat there for a moment, looking at the 3d triangular shape his nearly finished puzzle landed in. He didn't even sigh in defeat; he just got up and trekked his way back to your bedroom, gently waking you up by crawling into your arms.

And he buried his head into your neck, breathing you in uneasily and trying to steady himself. But as you rubbed his back and scratched his scalp, asking him what's wrong, he couldn't help but cry a little cause he already felt so negative and now felt sort of crushed, the time and effort he put into that for nothing. It makes him feel stupid; like why is he crying over a damn puzzle? He's a grown man, in a fucking apocalypse. He doesn't have time to cry over something so childish, let alone be doing a puzzle in the first place.

But your soothing helped to wash away his self loathing, tenderly reminding him it's okay to be upset about those kinda things: that it may be small in the perspective of the world, but it meant something to him. He put his time and his effort into it, and that's what made it something big.

That made him cry harder, your confirmation that it's okay to cry, getting that allowance to. His father surely banned crying, even over major things like his moms death, telling him there's no reason for a man to ever cry – and every time he'd beat him he would repeatedly demand he stop crying, until he eventually did: and the only times he ever cried were when he'd escape to be deep in the forest, sit alone and let his walls down for a little before having to put them all back up and face his homelife again, and shamed himself for doing such in the first place.

You're what finally let him express his love for the little things, and express how he felt when bad things happen with said little things.

He definitely didn't have many toys growing up, so he turned to things like puzzles – secretly doing them in his room late at night then shoving them under his bed when he wasn't working on it cause he knew Merle or his dad would make fun of him for it or destroy it – so doing puzzles now heals his inner child, and it getting knocked over hurt him even more cause it brought him back to those memories.

This was not meant to get sad but now I'm tearyeyed at 4:30 am while writing this. He's just tryna mend the kid his childhood broke :(

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14dayswithyou · 2 days

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The 14DWY brainrot is real... >_< were ypu planning on sharing koi ren's design here too or is it discord only for now? remember to drink lots n lots of water today 🐸☔️

i don't rmbr if i included this but can you share any koi crumbs too?

✦゜ANSWERED: aaaaa I'm 14 years late to this ask (/silly), but thank you for reminding me!! I'll add the new Mer Ren design to da queue >:3

I'll also put the Koi Ren (I'm rocking with this new name!!) crumbs under the cut!!

"Stop rocking the boat, Ren." Without sparing a glance in his direction, you continue to stare out into the vast, open lake. "You'll scare away all the fish."

Had you turned around, you would've seen the faux-deadpan look on his face as Ren takes in the irony of your words. As if to prove a point, he gently swishes his tail in the water, which causes small ripples to form and (eventually) disturb your bobber. "I don't think the boat is the problem here."

"Okay, how about this... One more fish, then we can go back." You finally look back at your scaley companion — who was still leaning against the edge of your tin boat with a lazy smile — and give him a resolute nod. "Promise."

"Sure," Ren casually reaches into the boat to pick and pluck at some of your live bait. "But you said that about the last three fish."

"This will be the last one. I swear."

"You... swear?" You try to ignore the way Ren swallows up one of your minnows as if you weren't using them for bait as he continues to speak, "Like... curse words? Humans sure are weird creatures."

As if realising his comment, Ren's ocean-blue eyes widen slightly and shift towards your form. "N-Not... Not you, though."

With a laugh, you playfully try to nudge him off of the boat. All it does is cause it to tip slightly, but Ren steadies it when you show signs of losing balance.

"Alright. One more fish, then?"

You nod and cast your attention back to your rod once more. You don't even notice the silence — nor Ren slipping away — until you suddenly feel a tug on your line and call out to your companion in excitement. "That was quick!"

Quickly reeling it in, you wonder what kind of fish you'd just caught — it's definitely stronger than you anticipated, given how the rod drastically bends and snaps at every movement from the fish. And just as you see the shadow from the murky depths get closer, the ripples get bigger and cause a stir underneath your tin boat. Standing up now, you try with all your might to reel it on board...

...Only for a mess of black hair to emerge from below and peer up at you with a smug look.

"Ren!"

"Looks like you got a big one."

"C'moooon." You practically whine, though you allow Ren to haul himself into your tiny boat and rest his head in your lap. You can still feel his body shake from underneath your touch, no doubt still laughing at his poor attempt at a joke. "This doesn't count."

A beat passes before your fishy companion responds. "...Hm? Fine then."

Another moment of silence follows before he slithers back into the water without another word. Half of you worries that you might've said something to offend him (there was still the tiniest hint of a language barrier between you two). Still, it ultimately leads to nothing as Ren soon emerges once more — only this time, he's hauling the biggest largemouth bass you'd ever seen into your boat.

"This good enough?" He looks at you with wide, blue eyes. "If not, I can probably find a sturgeon and—"

"It's bigger than my boat!"

"Is this what your kind calls... exaggeration? Because your boat is big enough even for me to—"

"—Arghh! It's getting water everywhere! Put it back!"

It was almost comical how Ren tossed the fish over his shoulder and back into the water without breaking eye contact with you.

Another wave of silence hits, yet neither of you seems to move or break the awkward staring contest you'd somehow started. It's then when you notice Ren's grin get bigger — most likely at your resignation and embarrassment — which causes you to fall back into your seat in defeat.

"Fine. Enough fishing for today. Let's head back." Busying yourself with the bucket of fish and tacklebox in front of you, you secure your gear and pack everything away. But it seems Ren had other plans, seeing as he took it upon himself to climb back into your boat and rest his arms on your legs. No longer able to move as freely, you have no choice but to indulge in his carefree whims.

"But you caught me. Aren't you going to bring me home too?"

"As much as I want to," Truly, you do. You've always wanted to show Ren the world outside of Lake Bluemoss. "There's no way I'm carrying you all the way down the mountain."

"You never know until you cry."

"Try." You correct him. "Until you try."

"Your kind sure are funny." Ren nuzzles himself closer. "Perhaps another time, then... Stay here tonight."

Your body pricks up at his words, and you spare a glance at the abandoned boathouse near the dock. Despite its rough and rugged exterior, you and Ren actually made it quite comfy. It had some of your old blankets and sheets thrown over one of the boats to make it comfortable to lounge in — alongside a giant empty tank that you and Ren filled with water for him to sit in as well. Despite the lack of human traction, the place still felt homey and well-loved.

"...I guess I could."

"Then what are we waiting shore?"

You had to roll your eyes at his attempt at a pun.

#I think it was Momo(?) who started calling him Koi Ren?? Love dat /silly /gen #Also I still need to share the updated character sheets + empty relationship chart here too..... sgdjhsj #To be fair it took me 242 years to share da Curious Cat art on Discord #Also not me writing drabbles instead of dotpoint crumbs T_T /pos #💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about ren.#🖤 — sai writes.#to be tagged later #secretkoa

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riki-riks-chick · 2 days

Note

do more non affectionate riki and affectionate gf

🙏🏻

Cuddles & Kisses ┃N.RK

non-affectionate!riki x affectionate!reader

riki decides that one day of cuddles and kisses won't hurt.

fluff! small kisses, hugging, cuddling.

wdct: 862

ty for the request. i hope this was alright bc i struggled a bit

═════════════

Third Person POV~

You wake up earlier than usual this morning, and Riki was already gone, probably up playing video games on his pc, trying not to yell at Heeseung.

You got out of bed, stretching the stiffness away before heading to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you left the bedroom, heading to the guest room that Riki used as a personal gaming room.

"Riki?" You peeked in, seeing him click away on his pc. He probably didn't hear you because he had his headphones on.

You approach slowly, rubbing his shoulders as he startles slightly, but relaxes because he knows it's you.

"Good morning, baby.." He reaches up to rub your arm, focusing back on the game. "Good morning, Riki... Why'd you get up so early?.." You ask as he shrugged. "I couldn't sleep well. Just decided to come play the game with Heeseung.."

Nodding at his words, you lean down towards his neck, leaving soft kisses on his skin and then down his shoulder.

He shakes you off, chuckling. "Baby, that tickles.. You're gonna make me die." He says as you sigh, pulling away from him. "Fine.. I'm gonna make breakfast.. What do you want?" You ask as he shrugs. "Whatever you wanna make is fine, baby.. Thank you."

Not even bothering to reply, you leave the room, heading into the kitchen as you start on a simple breakfast.

After finishing cooking, you call Riki into the kitchen, setting both of your plates on the table before grabbing some apple juice from the fridge. You're slightly startled when you feel him grab your hips from behind, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. "Thank you, baby.."

He then sits down, and your hands shake slightly as you pour the both of you a glass of apple juice, not even bothering to put the juice back in the fridge before you sit down.

Riki is sitting across from you, eating quietly. You decide to tease him just to see his reaction, because usually he rejects most affectionate touches.

You slide your foot up his leg, rubbing against his inner thigh as he stared up at you. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing.." You respond, feigning ignorance as he sighs. "You're so clingy." He laughs, rubbing your socked foot, giving you an under-the-table massage.

You're slightly shocked at it, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face.

After breakfast, Riki offers to do the dishes, so you're simply watching him. Eventually you decide to backhug him, nuzzling into his back. He doesn't say anything, and it makes you happy because he canonically hates backhugs.

He even pats your arm at one point, and it makes your heart feel warm.

"Do you wanna keep watching that show together after I finish?" He asks as you nod. "Sure.."

He finishes the dishes, drying his hands before turning around to face you. You pout, asking for a kiss. He plants one on your forehead, completely ignoring your lips.

"Riki... That's not a kiss.." You whine as he chuckles. "It is a kiss, baby.. Come on.. Let's watch the show."

After dragging you into the living room, you both sit down on the couch, turning on the show. Riki is sitting on the opposite side of the couch from you, as usual.

"Riki.. Sit closer to me..." You pout, reaching over to tug on his arm as he sighs, patting the spot next to him.

You move to sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as he pats your head.

This is the most you can get him to do, he's not the cuddling type.

You decided to test the waters though, holding his hand, and sitting basically hip to hip with him.

He shifted slightly, trying his hardest not to move.

Eventually he pulled his hand from your grasp, sighing. "I'm sorry, my hand is sweating." He didn't seem to be uncomfortable, but you could tell he probably was. Something about being too physically close to you just made him nervous.

"Are you okay?" You question, and he nods. "Do you ever get upset with me?.. Because I don't like to cuddle..?"

Confused at the sudden question, you shake your head. "No, not really.. Maybe a little frustrated, but I try not to push it too much.." You mumble as he hums in reply. "Well.. What if I agreed to all the cuddles and kisses you want, but just for today."

You smile at his proposition, nodding. "That would be good.."

He pushes you to lay on the couch, leaning down to give you a soft kiss before laying on top of you.

The next hour is spent watching the TV, and your hands are running through Riki's hair. It wasn't until the episode ended that you realized he had fallen asleep.

You didn't know if he came up with the whole cuddles and kisses ordeal just to use you as a pillow, but either way you got what you wanted and you were very satisfied.

═════════════

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #riki fluff #niki soft thoughts #niki soft hours #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura riki #enha riki #enha niki #enhypen riki #niki enhypen #riki scenarios #riki imagines #niki scenarios #niki imagines

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pupyuj · 2 days

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https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6_fxx8Pm0x/?igsh=MWw2MGF0bzgzMjdpYQ==

UHMM?? HELLOOOOO? OBSESSED YUJIN, STALKER YUJIN,CRAZY YUJIN💦

HEHEHDHDHCJ i thank the lord everyday for the existence of accendio mv bcs EVIL!YUJIN??? god i need her. GOOD!GAEUL GIVE ME THE WAND I CAN DISTRACT HER 😛😛😛 also this doesn't have too much smut purely bcs i didn't rlly think it'd fit much into the scenario but there's still some crumbs! 😭

[cw: dubcon (implied), yujin is really creepy and insane]

anon said the words ‘obsessed’, ‘stalker’, and ‘crazy’ and i just immediately thought of those admirers that go too far with their crush on that one person and yeah.. sounds like something yuj would be alright 🤪 her being the cool sunbae yujin that’s taken a strange liking to you, literally just some girl 😭 yujin being so confident of herself that she doesn’t waste energy by being subtle at all! constantly waiting by your locker to say good morning, sometimes she even takes you to class, waves at you if she doesn’t have time to talk to you, makes small talk in the bathrooms, the library, the courtyard, the gardens—wait, how is it that she knows wherever you are almost all the time?? 🤔 maybe it was all just a coincidence, yujin knows the campus like the back of her hand after all! 😅

anyway, yujin is very romantic! she knows a lot of things that you like! how? why, she kindly asked your friends.. with a few threats here and there bcs they were becoming suspicious of her intent but the point is that she got the information she wanted, okay? ☺️ she knows your favorite type of flowers, favorite foods and delicacies, and sometimes shows up at your front porch with those exact gifts just for you! 🥰

except that.. you never told her where you lived. not even which part of town your house was in. not even your friends could’ve told her. that’s why they showed up to school with bruises and cuts one day. but turns out yujin found you anyway. like she always does.

that was the final straw for you—you were officially creeped the fuck out! and so you start putting some distance between you and yujin but she didn't like that at all! she started following you around more, practically running after you every time you dash away from her.. she wasn't going to give up easily! 😣😣 you tried to block her from all of your social media accounts bcs she keeps spamming you with borderline threats and pictures of you that she has taken while she stalked you but she was really stubborn!

wouldn't think there would be anything wrong with climbing your house and watching you right next to your bedroom window,, her heavy breathing fogging up the glass with how close she was just to see your clearly,, you looked so beautiful sleeping so peacefully! :(( but you'd stir in your sleep, as if you knew something was amiss beyond your little dreamland.. then you'd wake up and find your window slightly open,, at first you thought that you probably just forgot to close it again but then your eyes snap open at the sight of the figure sitting on your bed,, your first instinct would be to kick it and move away but it was faster than you! it covers your mouth shut and only under the tiniest stream of moonlight did you recognize the person that had broken into your room—ahn yujin!

ofc she wouldn't see a problem with breaking into your home,, doesn't hesitate to threaten you either! saying that she'd hurt you or worse if you were to make a single noise and alert your neighbors. yujinnie just wanted to get close to you! in her head, she has been nothing but kind! why did you insist on rejecting her?! she truly didn't understand, but that was okay. she was going to make you understand! now that she has you all for herself... she can do anything she has been wanting to do! like kissing you (she was very happy when you eventually kissed back despite your initial resistance!), touching you (she always knew your skin was so soft), and ofc, fucking you (you rlly had to make her for work it—kicking and punching and trying to bite her hand... but in the end, yujin got her way with you. like she always will from now on.) 😰

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losergirlcrowley · 2 days

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I think we, DPS fans, don't talk about Charlie during the school's tribute to Neil enough.

He's not singing.

Meeks, Pitts and Knox are singing, letting all their feelings out.

Cameron is singing a little calmer. You can see the sadness in him though.

Todd is stuttering words, not even singing—but he's trying.

Charlie does not sing.

I'm sorry for the picture's quality.

At first I thought he didn't sing because he was angry at Neil for leaving all of them; the Dead Poets, Keating and his dreams of becoming an actor. We saw at the beginning of the film how Charlie tried to convince Neil to speak up to his parents. I think he really wanted Neil to be happy, and he knew he wouldn't be if he stayed silent and pursued being a doctor because of his father.

During Neil and Mr. Keating's talk in the office, Neil mentioned Charlie: "We are not a rich family like Charlie's" (quoted by memory). Charlie tried to make Neil pursue acting when they had different social backgrounds; Charlie could go against his parents and not ruin everything. But Neil was an only child from a family that was mantained by his father and no one else... and not particularly wealthy either.

Even if they had those differences, they didn't separate them. And both of them were boys with dreams they couldn't follow easily. Charlie was more rebellious (especially when it came to school's authorities). Neil was more of the type to go with whatever people wanted. Charlie was more risk-taking. Neil's risk in the whole movie was participating in the play (yes, the club wasn't a Neil risk; it was all of the poets').

Charlie was really proud of Neil for finally following his dreams.

"He's good. He's really good."

Sounds familiar?

"I was good. I was really good."

This parallel makes sense to me, especially if we analyze the very first scene of Charlie and Neil in the movie. As I said, Charlie wanted Neil to speak up to his father. And when he did and it all broke apart; Neil said words Charlie had said about him during the play.

Obviously, Charlie disliked Neil's dad. We can be sure about that, definitely.

The school's tribute to Neil was either Mr. Perry's idea or he gave the permission to do it. The authorities thought of Neil's death as the institution's problem. Keating was suspicious from the beginning because of his unconventional teaching methods (plus Mr. Perry thought Keating told Neil to keep his place in the performance, which he did—but he made it look like it was a real problem... 1950s, let's go).

Charlie didn't think this event of singing words of grief and so on was for Neil. Neil didn't die to be missed. Neil died because he would miss out on what he wanted to do. But that reasoning didn't even come across the authorities' heads.

I think of Charlie as a person who has an internal philosophy, a reasoning that most people wouldn't think of. So, when every single one of his friends are singing because they miss Neil; Charlie does not sing because this is a way to pay respects to Mr. Perry for losing his son. A way to say the authorities are right. A way to say "Neil... poor boy." Neil was miserable because he wasn't free. And his only way to be free was... not living.

I believe this "Charlie wasn't singing" thing can be interpreted in many, many ways. I probably overanalyzed it because 6 years of DPS make someone go insane eventually. What I do think is clear is that Neil and Charlie's friendship was very obvious from the start. And yes, the not singing thing is something to observe and think about... but their whole friendship isn't very talked about in the fandom! And I had the idea to write about not only the movie's scenes that have both of them, but also how I perceive it (hence why I would describe this post as a theory rather than facts).

I would love to see other people's takes on this subject too !!

#dead poets society #dps #dps boys #dps fandom #charlie dalton #neil perry #grae's old interests<3 #grae blogging era

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hectorthedoggo · 3 days

Text

aight i really don't feel like editing today so i'm just gonna give the unedited enyu thing for y'all :)

Tw: horror imagery

The warden took a swig from their glass of water, and turned their eyes back to their work, ignoring the slightly throbbing headache. It doesn’t matter.

Last time we went to get our daily check-up, Shidou told us to sleep, as we hadn’t slept in… a day? Yeah, that was a day ago. Hm… I don’t think that’s healthy. That was, what, yesterday? Hm…

They had whittled the two days away, only going for occasional breaks; they had requested more work, so they could be kept busy.

They had tried to sleep once in that period of time, and that hadn’t ended well.

Their rest probably lasted around 10 minutes, before they were promptly woken up by a nightmare. No way we should let that happen.

Jackalope didn’t seem opposed to the idea, as it would let him have less work. It was a win-win situation, because the more work they had, the less thinking they had to do.

However, the urge for sleep was pulling on them desperately. They didn’t remember the last time they sleep.

I suppose that I must, lest I randomly pass out. Again.

They sat up from the couch, setting their clipboard next to them.

They walked robotically to the bed, sloppily getting ready for bed and tucking themself under the sheets.

They decidedly didn’t look at the mirror while doing that, of course. We’re not an idiot.

They closed their eyes, but didn’t immediately fall asleep. It was ironic that they would be so tired yet not able to go to sleep.

They attempted sleep anyway.

That was idiotic of them.

After an indeterminable amount of time, they opened their eyes in their darkened room.

A feeling they were being watched clutched at their throat. No, that’s silly. Who would do that? Besides, we locked the door. There’s nobody in here, I’m- we’re just being paranoid.

However, out of some sort of twisted curiosity, they moved their eyes away from the ceiling..

A large black shape was in the middle of the room, slightly swaying.

They tried to get up, but couldn’t. Their body was immobilized by something. That shape wasn’t there before, oh god-

It started to float towards them, and it felt like their point of view shifted up. It slowly inched across the ground, two hanging limbs dragging across the ground.

Those are… those are feet, right?

They looked up, and a chunk of tangled golden-brown hair came from the head of the entity. It came to their bedside, and towered over them in the bed.

A cold sweat ran down their face, and they started to shiver. What? That’s-

Mahiru giggled, and they heard it. It was real.

But, she’s not alive, there’s no way this could be real.

Her hanging body resembled that of her boyfriends; an image subconsciously gifted to them by her MV.

A pale, ghostly hand reached toward their face, brushing their cheek. It felt so, so real.

They looked around the room, trying to find any way out, and ‘she’ started to hum her song. But, it was distorted, off key, and they started to try to cry.

It was a combination of fear and grief, but they couldn’t sob. They could never let it out, simply shaking and feeling the soft whisper of skin against their cheek.

Eventually, the sensation of the hand faded, and they woke with a start.

The first thing they did was scamper from under the bedsheet, as if it was the perpetrators of their distress.

They clutched their knees, and started to weakly sob. They didn’t have the energy or hydration, but they did have the raw emotion.

Oh god, and she seemed happy. That version of Mahiru was happy.

Right before she died, she was injured, and unhappy. She was faking happiness. I put her in such a state that she wanted this release. It’s my fault.

They clutched a pillow, and it simply deflated. I- I can’t do this anymore, but I can’t die.

I’m not going back to sleep. I’m not going back to sleep. I don’t want to see her again.

It’s all my fault.

It was dead quiet, excluding their own pathetic noises of fear and grief. They were so, so tired, but couldn’t go back to sleep.

They stared at some of the unfinished paperwork on the table. I’m having trouble thinking right now, but if I go back to sleep…

They let out another weak sob. I really don’t want to work… We’ve done that all day. But we should, shouldn’t we? It would take the pain away.

They kept clutching onto the pillow, but started to reassure themself of their authority, that it was all going to be okay, but it didn’t work.

The fear that Mahiru would pop up again, the monster would stare at them, remind them of their guilt. Why do I even see her as a monster? That’s horrible.

She just wanted to love people, and look at what we did to her.

The warden heard light footsteps, and hoped that whoever it was would open the door, check on them.

However, that hope was mixed with fear. But, we can’t let people see us like this. I-

They couldn’t repress their tears; not when there were so many. But, they did try to quiet them the best they could. It didn’t work; the attempt was half-hearted.

It was like a cry for help.

The footsteps stopped in front of their door.

Please. Please. But, they couldn’t directly admit it to themself.

They were relieved when they heard a knock on the door, and soon, an inquisitive head popped in. It’s Kotoko.

She’s going to see me like this. I’m not sure how to feel about this.

This is shameful. We can’t be doing this?

But, what do we have to lose? It feels like we won’t survive this any longer. We can’t.

That shut the warden up.

Will she protect me? She’s good with that, but my verdict’s ruined it all, as always.

She slowly stepped closer to them, but they didn’t protest. They were like an injured animal, though untrusting, had to rely on whoever’s around, no matter how they felt about that person.

They were somewhere else, staring at the spot where Mahiru appeared. Will she appear now? Kotoko will abandon me. Maybe she’s just here to admonish me or something.

I would deserve that. But, can the monster appear if she’s here? Am I at least slightly safer in her presence?

She approached their shaking form.

“How does this keep happening to you? Es, you should understand that you can’t keep this up.”

They shook their head, weak voice punctured by their gasping sobs, “But… Mahiru… she’ll come if I… if we try to… I can’t, I-”

The warden decided to stop their speaking before they revealed more weakness.

Kotoko stood over their curled-up, vulnerable form, eyes widened in a mix of anxiety and despair. The walls started to grow eyes, and they further curled into themself. “She, she’s, they’re all…”

Their cries came to be unapologetically louder than necessary, but she still didn’t save them.

Eventually, she overcame some of her own mental barriers, and scraped them off of their place of terror, up into her arms.

It was almost too easy, and they relaxed. She’ll protect me better than we can protect ourself.

She looked down on them. “Why did you do that?”

They passively looked at nothing, cries quieted now that they were safe. “We… we had to work.”

“That’s not helping anything, or anyone. You won’t be rational enough to decide life-changing verdicts. Idiot…”

Es looked ahead, at the eyes that watched them in the walls.

“If we do the work, the more time we do it the better. I don’t have to feel anything when I’m working. Besides, I’m not… I’m not the one that chooses the verdicts, anyways. We-, no, I don’t matter.” Their speech and filter were slurred on their tiredness.

Sleep started to overtake them. I don’t care if this is Kotoko, I’d rather pass out here than on the floor.

She tried to lightly shake them awake, but it was futile. “Wait, the verdicts what?”

They lost consciousness, finally not worrying about working.

I guess she knows now.

I’m not sure how we’re supposed to feel about that.

When the warden woke up, they were, of course, back in Shidou’s room. Why do we keep ending up here? This is bothersome, and-

They tried to get up, hazily registering their surroundings, but was stopped. They scowled at the offender, Kotoko, again.

She pushed them, slightly roughly, back down. They tried to resist, but she held them still.

“Es, stop that. You’re only going to hurt yourself more.”

They kept their angry face on, but blocked the light from reaching their tired eyes. This is humiliating. Why is she treating me like a child that can’t take care of themself?

We’re perfectly fine.

Another voice, Shidou Kirisaki, chimed in from the background. His voice sounded a little choked up. “You’re really worrying us, Es. I- please stop doing this.”

Why would they be worried? “Why?”

“Why, what?” Kotoko’s stricter tone of voice.

“Why do you even care? What we do is none of your business. Again, I’m the warden, you’re the prisoners, there’s no reason for this irrational behavior.”

That left the adults in silence, and they let their pounding head adjust to the light the best it could.

They stared over at the two adults, who seemed like an unlikely duo. Didn’t they hate each other last time we checked?

Well, I suppose the verdicts might have changed things. Maybe Kotoko has lost her big ego, good.

Kotoko looked like a mess, her usual hair slightly out of place, and restraints all messed up. Shidou, despite his innocent verdict, looked even more pathetic.

His eyes were puffy from crying, something the warden hadn’t seen much of, other than that one time. Ah, those tears are for Mahiru. That’s right.

The air was thick with tension. Shidou broke the silence. “Es, we care about you.”

That is an outright lie. Does he really care about ‘me’? Or his kids. “No, you don’t. Why would you? All I do is boss you around.”

Kotoko sighed. “Es. Listen. I understand where you’re coming from; I used to be like this, but it didn’t work out for me, you should know.

I wouldn’t want to lose you as a warden, despite- no, um, you’re an adequate warden. Your faith for your… cause, is admirable. I… I guess I don’t want to lose you.”

It must have taken a lot out of her to say that. Some of that seemed genuine, but…

The warden flicked their eyes over her vulnerable self, trying to justify her actions. Wait… The girl in her MV… Ah! I get it now. She just sees me as a weakling, a damsel in distress, out of her childish belief. That’s why she’s caring about me.

To her, we’re something to protect, out of a complex to make her feel better about herself. There’s no way she’d actually care for us. We can’t listen to her and feel vulnerable.

We were so pathetic last night. “I’m not falling for such a fragile pretense, Kotoko. You just see me like a weakling, like that girl, Keiko, was it? You’re no different than that man.”

They pointed at Shidou, who stared at them with a little heartbreak in his unc

This got straight to her heart, and she clenched her fist. “Stop that. That doesn’t matter. Caring about you aside, what about caring about your integrity as warden?”

This caught them off guard, as she brought up their own vulnerability, ignoring them. She’s bringing up the warden thing now. Are we going to survive this without having a mental breakdown?

That didn’t happen last time.

Yes, yes, we got this. Just ignore her words.

“You can’t be a good warden if you keep passing out like that. Even I slept when I was on the hunt; and I wasn’t the epitome of health. Shidou, you’re the health expert here.”

He cleared his throat. Are we just going to get scolded like this? “Alright, you’re 15, right?”

No response. Shidou continued on anyways. “I know full well you haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep in a while. Adults, yes, adults, can barely function on the amount of sleep you’ve been getting. And, you’re not even an adult.”

He shook his head, sighing. “You’ll do your work much faster on the highly recommended 8-10 hours.”

The warden detested this feeling, of being held down for something they knew full well was their fault, so they tried to avoid it. “I-”

Kotoko came to their defense, but also interrupted them, “In their defense… I don’t think their lack of sleep was fully their fault.”

Shidou turned to her, like a parent getting his authority questioned.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you were having nightmares, right?” Her tone was almost accusatory. This woman…

They stared between her and Shidou, classifying her as ‘insufferable’, the category in which Shidou and Amane already had an annual membership to.

Shidou’s anger melted, which was way worse than his previous anger. “Right… don’t you have to watch murder happen in front of your eyes? I mean, that would be nightmare material for anyone…”

The warden had no sensible defense for that, so they simply sat up while Kotoko was too off-guard to push them down and bunched themself together. “I don’t think that that’s any of your concern.”

“If that’s affecting your sleep quality, a small dose of sleep medication will really help, but… No, I suppose that the situation calls for it.”

I- no, we can’t accept anything non-essential from this man.

We’re losing ourself. We really need to get more sleep, but…

This is self-contradictory. How are we going to get out of this one?

The stress of the situation was unmanageable. But, I can’t rely on anyone. But, I’ll have to rely on someone if I can’t sleep.

Okay, but we can’t cry, too. It’s just what we have to do.

This is so stressful.

They teared up, despite their best wishes. We- I can’t do this anymore.

They started to sniffle, but couldn’t exactly stop their tears. They’re going to see us during the interrogation, and this is all they’re going to think about.

We’re so pathetic, Milgram should just replace-

No, no, what am I thinking? I- we can’t do any of that. We can’t think like that. We are no use to Milgram dead.

Surely if Milgram didn’t want us, they could just get rid of us. Like they did Mahiru’s body.

Her body was never in the garbage, so where else could she have gone.

So, Milgram must care somewhat for me. We’re useful.

No reason to be crying. We’re alright.

Shidou reached out to them, trying to pat them on the shoulder, and they slapped it, as harshly as it could. “Get away from us.”

The cycle restarted.

But, they couldn’t exactly leave. So, they simply hissed threats under their breath, to try their best to get the two interferences away from them.

They’re the causes of this inept weakness.

Kotoko sighed. “Jeez. Listen, we’re not going anywhere, and you can’t even do any lasting damage to us; calm down.” A little bit of bitterness slipped into her voice.

Shidou shook his head, trying to gently approach them, to wipe their tears. They hit him away, truly set off.

Their eyes drooped, but they forced them open. We’re in danger right now. These are murderers.

Though, they did know, deep down, we’re the only danger here, to ourself.

“Es, please, we can’t keep doing this.”

I’m the warden. We’re the warden. We’re the warden. “We’re the warden.” It was a hoarse whisper.

“Christ, they’re insane.” Kotoko looked mildly horrified. “This isn’t Es, isn’t it?”

The two adults stood on opposite sides of their bed, within hitting range, but their reactions were delayed.

The walls began to grow eyes, due to their sleep deprivation. They stared back, as if challenging the audience to question their authority.

The eyes started to close. They’re scared of me, aren’t they? They don’t like me, don’t they?

Will they stop watching now? If they don’t like us, we’ll be rejected as well.

Are we interesting? Are we good entertainment?

That’s our purpose, as the prison warden of Milgram.

They shoved and beat down their last shards of discontentment.

a/n: they literally can’t act tough anymore they’re so sleep deprived 💀#get this kid some therapy that’s not two adults with savior complexes PLEASE-

(@kani-miso)

#to edit later #; ; i really don't wanna eddiittt... but i gotta post this on ao3... grammarly... save me grammarly...

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