Hey! I made a short Pyramid game uquiz. Feel free to take it and share the results if you want :)
I really liked the webtoon and last weekend I discovered that they made a live action series! I'm still watching it but I like it a lot already (couldn't say the same about wh live action which was kind of a disappointment for me). I'm not sure if I get back into writing but I wanted to make a small tribute for this fandom, I suppose.
Anyway, the uquiz is really short and not really psychology oriented. I suggest you take it with an oc in mind. Have a great one 💙
Haitani Ran headcanons (and Rindou too I guess but it’s Ran-centric)
The more (in)famous of the Haitani duo. More charismatic, beautiful, stylish and smart too in his own words, though that’s up for debate. Rindou does debate this regularly.
He makes an impression. The impression is good if he’s deliberately trying to make it good - but he can’t do it for long. It’s easy for him to make a good first impression - and he can maintain it given he doesn’t have to meet the other person more than like once a week for one hour. In other cases, the impression gets… weird.
Ran is at least a bit unnerving until you know him for long enough to get used to his antics. You can’t put your finger on it, it’s not about his words or actions most of the time - it’s in his intonation and gaze and how his mood sometimes switches seemingly out of nowhere. His smile can look soft but it’s just aloof, and sometimes the aloofness is simply bored or relaxed kind, but sometimes it’s suddenly sharp and wrong and he’s either grinning or not smiling at all, and then you better run. People can’t figure him out and it makes them either fear or worship him. Often both.
There’s also the silly kind of weirdness. When he’s trying to be poetic and ends up looking like a moron because he uses words he doesn’t know the meaning of or doesn’t quite get how some literary devices he wants to use work. Come to think of it he’d do great on Tumblr with the Goncharov thing - if asked if he watched it he’d say yes obviously loved the soundtrack but the ending is not comme il faut in his opinion (trying to say the ending sucked). His first instinct when asked about a media he hasn’t consumed is to pretend he’s actually watched/read/played the thing. He usually gets away with it too because a) most people do not dare call him out or simply don’t care enough to do it, b) from time to time he hits the nail on the head.
When he’s feeling fancy he gets himself a big mont blanc cake from a restaurant but his go to comfort food are little mont blanc pastries from the patisserie close to his childhood home. Their mother used to get them every other day when she and their father were staying in Japan. She said it tasted just like the ones she tried in France.
Ran and Rindou don’t exactly remember it but they know that the first two years after Ran was born (and the year after Rindou was born) were the longest time their parents stayed in Japan. They left a little before Rindou turned one and sent gifts from Italy, and their nanny arrange a small birthday party. Ran doesn’t remember anything but Rindou’s loud weeping but they do have a photo. It’s made from such an angle that it’s hard to say that Rindou’s crying but Ran is looking straight at the camera and looks eerily calm. He’s holding his brother’s hand too tight.
Their parents were investors and philanthropists, pretty famous in some circles and obviously rich. They were the life of the party wherever they went, and they went wherever a big party is. They constantly travelled all over the world and rarely stayed in Japan for more than a month. They were fun people, beautiful and almost kind sometimes, but they were never good with children. They were distant with them and unintentionally neglectful.
After Ran turned five and Rindou four, their parents started taking them along when traveling. They’d visited most of West Europe, USA and Korea together. That’s when Ran got a dream to become an celebrity overseas. It was a good time, maybe too good, and it was cut short by their mother’s death. Ran found her lying on the bed of the hotel room in a pool of vomit. Their father said it was a severe case of food poisoning. The media said she overdosed on drugs, probably intentionally. Ran was seven at the time.
Their father stopped bringing them with him abroad after that, and his stays in Japan became even rarer. They lived in their home in Roppongi with the nanny until Ran convinced his father they didn’t need her.
Ran’s never put it into words but he sees Rindou as something of an extension of himself. Rindou feels that but can’t quite put into words either. He doesn’t feel the same. He sees his brother as a brother, as he should. He can’t articulate the difference and he’s not totally sure if it’s wrong or if it’s a typical relationship between siblings. They don’t know when it started or if it was that way from the start. Ran brings Rindou along on his walks, to get haircuts, to get desserts, later - to fights. He never actually asks, he just says “let’s go do [x]”. There was a time when Rindou would just say no if he didn’t want to, but he’d learned since then. If he said no, Ran would try to convince him first and if Rindou didn’t budge he’d leave it but he’d get moody. Rindou doesn’t think his brother’s ever actually hit him - not like he hits his real opponents at least, there’s a bit of play fighting and arm wrestling from time to time but nothing serious - but a moody Ran is still more than capable of making his life miserable. Maybe he’d beat up his friends or get him in trouble at school or put vinegar chips in his bag of chicken ones. At some point, before they’d even finished elementary school, Rindou stopped trying to resist. Going everywhere together wasn’t that bad and was actually kind of fun sometimes. The decision mattered a lot to Rindou but Ran barely even remembers his attempts of breaking away.
When they started elementary school after returning to Japan Rindou was picked on by local aspiring delinquents because he was a chubby four eyes with lots of cash. Ran beat them up, almost entirely on his own and almost entirely by sheer recklessness and arrogance. Rindou started working out and training in Jujitsu. After losing to him in arm wrestling for the first time Ran started training and working out a bit too.
Ran always sleeps cocooned in a heavy blanket. If it’s too hot outside he’ll turn the air conditioning on until it’s pleasantly cool. He’s a light sleeper and often wakes up in the middle of the night and then needs some time before he can fall asleep again. So it always looks like he sleeps a lot (and sometimes he does but not half as often as it seems) but he actually spends some of the time just lying in bed and thinking or watching or reading something.
He tried to keep a dream journal for a while and was good at it. He tried to decipher every single dream and use the message from his subconscious. He stopped at some point but he can still remember some of the meanings off the top of his head. He makes an entry or two from time to time.
Ran gets fixated on one thing or another from time to time, and when he does he’s obsessed and talking Rindou’s ear off about it. It can be a show, a book, a celebrity, a game, a theme, anything. He doesn’t usually get fixated on people he knows irl though. Rindou is always snarky about the whole thing but he knows it’s far worse when his brother is not fixated on anything. If he’s bored and understimulated, Ran tends to try and sleep as much of the day as he can off, and when he’s awake - he gets moody.
Moody Ran is a nightmare. Everything annoys him, he doesn’t want people breathing in his vicinity, much less making any other kind of noise, including but not limited to talking, walking, laughing, sighing. He’s prone to beating the shit out of anyone around, except maybe for Rindou (not that it actually puts Rindou at ease).
The one thing that never fails to make Ran feel good and excited is establishing dominance and control. Winning - doesn’t really matter how, but it helps if the victory is fast, dramatic and decisive. Sometimes his excitement is as dangerous as his anger or boredom, and the brothers learn this the hard way.
Ran never actually regrets killing the vice captain of Max Maniacs but he eventually does admit to Rindou that it was probably not the smartest thing to do. He doesn’t tell him - or anyone for that matter - that even though the second thought after hearing the crack of bones under his knuckles was all about the consequences, his first thought was pure satisfaction. But when he first talks to Izana he’s sure Izana figures it out somehow.
They get out of juvie to the announcement of their father getting married. The bride is beautiful, French and barely speaks Japanese. Ran tells their father they want to live separately, and both father and Rindou choose to roll with it. They rent out an apartment a couple of blocks away from their childhood home (and i hc it to be the apt from cb3).
When they got out of juvie they had to fight to take over Roppongi again even though they were famous after the Max Maniacs incident. They mostly did it themselves with little to no trouble but they did employ Koko’s help once to deal with a gang working under yakuza.
Ran naturally assumes control wherever he goes. Even when he’s mostly silent in company of Rindou and friends, when he says “we’re going there”, no-one questions it and people do go there. He doesn’t think twice about it, it’s just natural and comfortable. But when someone does end up refusing or resisting, especially if it’s something small and petty, it dumbfounds him for a second. After that it also makes him at least slightly uncomfortable. He can let it go sometimes but he also can end up arguing or forcing his way.
Ran’s face is always a little puffy from sleep. He has skincare routine but it doesn’t with this. He hates when people comment on it.
He’s got good grades, and it’s a bit unfair because he doesn’t actually try. Most of the things at school are just easy for him even without studying. Rindou thinks it’s unfair since he has to study real hard to maintain his grades on a good level. If they ever go to college though it would be the opposite - Ran would be failing everything and being angry about it and not understanding the reason at all, and for Rindou everything would be easy even though he he’d still need to study.
Ran doesn’t cook if he can help it. He either orders takeout or eats Rindou’s cooking. One of the rare situations when he’d willingly cook would be when Rindou’s ill. Then he makes the absolute best chicken soup or miso soup you can imagine and omurice.
Ran admires loyalty and straightforwardness in other people but he doesn’t actually aspire to be loyal and straightforward himself all that much (he’s mostly content with himself). This kind of people usually surprise him (in a pleasant way, not in a knifeinyourback kind of way) and catch his attention (because opportunists and rats are everywhere in the delinquent world, and they’re mostly boring and sad, and honest people are like a breath of fresh air), and when a person is consistently open, loyal and straightforward some part of him that is always suspicious of other people and waiting for a trick or an ambush can finally relax. He doesn’t truly believe that it’s something that can work out in a world like his but he kind of wants to hope there’s a chance, and when he’s feeling optimistic he wants to help such people however he can.
Ran takes long baths, Rindou usually goes for quick showers.
Ran keeps his room (and only his room) perfectly clean all the time. It’s not perfectly neat and orderly though. He always makes the bed because getting in bed feels different if it’s been made. Sometimes, if the living room gets too dirty, Ran starts angry cleaning and Rindou sits in his room trying to not make a noise because if he does he’s going to be forced to clean everything instead.
Ran is possessive of his things and people he perceives as his but not in a sense that no-one else can look at them or touch them or whatever. In a sense that the thing or person is ultimately his. It doesn’t matter who touches it or for how long they’re separated - in the end of the day, he expects them to return or be returned when he says so. When it doesn’t happen, he gets angry, and than - after some time - he gets sad.
He takes care of his appearance and he enjoys doing it. He’s kind of vain tbh. He likes to pose like the models from the fashion magazines he reads from time to time - tries out their poses and sees if they work for him. Makes his brother and other people (there’s more than enough volunteers) make photos of him. He has a good eye for good lighting too. He can actually make really good photos himself but rarely gets the chance and motivation.
Ran doesn’t like when a party goes on for too long but sometimes when he’s sleepy and tired and there’s music blaring and people talking and dancing and it’s dark on the streets and also bright because of all the artificial light - he likes to just stand on a balcony and look outside for as long as he can without getting cold or hot. It feels peaceful and good and he can’t help but wonder if it would still feel the same after everything is over, after he’d accomplished everything he could and experienced everything he could. Would Rindou still be there, playing his loud music and partying behind the window? Would it be someone else there? Anyone?
Pairing: Wolf Keum/ Reader; Jake Ji/ Reader (Implied)
Tags: #Serial Killer AU; #Bad Decisions; #Takes Place Before Canon
Words: 5,097
Current TW: Dark Themes
Summary:
You made the decision knowing it’s a bad one.
“You know you’re playing a dangerous game,” The stranger says, the statement underlined with faint amusement and mockery. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he wears novelty around him as easily as breathing. Novelty, you think, in the fact that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen before. “Don’t you?”
You shrug— it’s way past your curfew— and smile.
or you make a bad decision
You made the decision knowing it’s a bad one.
“You know you’re playing a dangerous game,” The stranger says, the statement underlined with faint amusement and mockery. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he wears novelty around him as easily as breathing. Novelty, you think, in the fact that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen before. “Don’t you?”
You shrug— it’s way past your curfew — and smile.
But it’s a lonely night, and the only company you could find in these empty streets is the stranger in front of you. It’s a bad decision, really, but you're high on your self-imposed stupor. The man in front of you is dangerous, surely, it’s not hard to miss when his question is blunt and entirely honest.
Of course the stranger is dangerous, he can’t be anything else when your instincts scream for you to run.
But, it doesn’t do anything to hinder you.
So, you smile wide and teasing, all the while wondering if it’s a good enough facade to hide the fact that you’ve been wandering for a while; that you’ve been crying before you stumbled upon the handsome stranger; that you’re so tired that if you stopped anytime soon, you’ll be sleeping for a long, long time.
You take a moment to process, before proceeding to continue one of the worst decisions in your life with a bad joke.
“I have killer standards, and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me so—”
The sudden laugh stops you.
“Pftth ,” Something dances behind his gaze and you’re unable to place where the amusement comes from. “Killer standards?”
Yeah. He seems nice enough. Totally.
Usually, you never would have done something so immensely stupid , no matter how cute or handsome the stranger was presented. For you, the appropriate time to ever hit on someone would usually be at school, during the day, and definitely not in a creepily isolated street alley.
It’s not a usual night.
Of course it’s not, not when you’re dressed in your favorite strapless dress that reaches just above your knees. Of course it’s not, when you’re walking through the streets in the dead of the night all alone after… after what?
Words couldn’t even begin to describe what had transpired before that led you to ignore all the warnings you were taught about stranger danger.
Smile, you think as the stranger raises his brow, smile.
“Yup.” Your confidence is truly astounding, that it sounds like you might run at any given moment. You feel like you should run. “Absolutely killer standards. Never quite met anyone like you. Have you ever thought about becoming a model?”
He snorts, and you silently grimace at the shit flirting. You’ve done that line before, to someone else.
Again, your thoughts move to the bright orange hair and the soft, warm brown eyes. How he was yours and then not—
“You shouldn’t hit on someone and then be distracted when they return the gesture.” The stranger’s voice cuts through your thoughts. A smile now downturned, a clear cut picture of displeased disappointment. Slowly, deliberately, he runs his hand through his purple hair with a sigh.
Oh.
Oh.
“Sorry,” you begin your lie off with what you think is a flirty smile, “But your face is really distracting.”
He hums noncommittally, his face impassive as looked down the streets, and for what you can only assume is to check if they’re truly alone. Then slowly, the smile is back, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say it almost looked lazier.
More relaxed.
Why?
“Okay,” The words roll off his tongue easily and it’s somehow clear he knows you lied, “I believe you, but it's best not to get too distracted. I’m a bit impatient, you see—“
If his smile sharpens, then you don’t see it.
“—And it’ll be a shame if you missed anything.”
Everything logical screams for you to run away, maybe not flirt with strangers who might be some creep. Any other night you probably would have, you probably would have nervously laughed and tried to talk your way out of the shitty mess you made, as you quietly sent a text to one of your friends to get you.
It’s a smart decision, the greatest decision one could make in this situation. But—
You made the decision knowing it’s a bad one.
Where being potentially stabbed and murdered seems like the better option, the better choice, than the… It doesn’t matter. None of it matters when you can’t sink any lower than you already are.
So you take a step forward, against whatever instinctive reaction you might still have, with a smile that almost seems desperate. Desperate, because some tiny part of you needs to turn back and demand answers from the one who led you here; to this bad decision.
But if you do that, a quiet voice hisses in your mind; scared and lonely and not thinking right; you’ll see that you can sink so much lower than you are now.
The desperation is there because you’re running, and you need something, anything, to ground you from destroying yourself even more because of that person—
Foolishly, you wrap your arms around the stranger’s neck. A grounding, an action that sticks your feet to the floor, a move that damns you to another hell of your own (it’s yours, all yours) choosing.
Possible hell, maybe not, likely is.
You run a hand through his hair before pulling him down, nose brushing against his. The shock in the other is evident in the tenseness in his muscles, like he’s physically restraining himself from pulling away. His eyes are blown wide and face frozen still trying to come up with an expression; you think he might be smiling.
The cold night fogging his glasses, blurring the gray of his eyes staring down at you. You move to whisper in his ear, and for a moment, no words come out no matter how much you try. So, you take a deep breath, steady yourself and whisper a single word you could muster. And it sounds like permission given for something you’ll never be able to truly grasp.
“Okay.”
It’s damnation.
Possibly, maybe not, likely is.
You feel his shoulders shake before you hear the laugh, it steals your breath away at how loud and so fucking amused it is, praticaly jovial. His arms wrap you in a tight hold before you could process what’s happening, the stranger buries his face in the crook of your neck and his breath hot. The shaking won’t stop, and his hold just becomes tighter and tighter.
Like he finally knows what the fuck to do with the idiotic girl who approached him in the dead of night.
Slowly, somehow, somewhere along the end of the sudden laughter fit, you learn how to breathe again. Though the accomplishment is easily forgotten as silence reigns.
There’s only several things that hold no care for the silence. The loud beatings of your heart, the steady rhythm of your breathing, and the stranger in front of you.
He leans back, and this time you remember to keep breathing as he looked down at your person. There’s something absolutely gleeful behind his eyes, his smile so wide and so drunk— There’s a word that could describe it, something important but you can’t seem to remember.
A moment passes.
It feels like an eternity.
You were supposed to follow up with some crap pick-up line after agreeing to stop getting distracted by the past.
Agreeing , you use the word loosely, as if you had a choice not to. Supposedly, you were to be the one to lead the conversation, but you’re unable to come up with words.
The edges of his smile curls up more, it’s unnatural, something that shouldn’t be possible but it is. The next move of his is deliberate, and from what you know during the short time since meeting him, it always is.
The handsome stranger pets your head, one arm still holding you tight, even when he leaned in to place a sloppy kiss on your forehead. It sends a jolt through your body, but the flinch doesn’t deter him from wrapping his fingers playfully around your hair.
He looks at you and— Oh. You remember the word you forgot, the one that could perfectly describe his smile, the look he’s giving you, and it doesn’t make sense. But it’s the only thing that does, because you recognize it.
Drunkenly, gleefully, dreamingly — Of course you would recognize that look, how could you not? And your life is changed.
Altered.
Never will it be the same, and you don’t know how to react to that.
“My name…”
He starts off, voice low, soft and it’s nearly comforting, but still, it’s overwhelming. He watches you like a hawk, memorizing your reaction and even the smallest details through his glasses; one of his fingers trailing forcefully against your lips; you think he may just devour you.
“Is Wolf Keum.”
No words come out, again, speechless. Paralyzed in the unrealism of it all, and it feels wrong to put a name on the presence holding you.
Wolf hums, burying himself into your neck, “... and the name of the girl that declared quite vocally that I had met their killer standards?”
There it is again, the inside joke you don’t quite get, and the not so subtle jab at your sudden quietness.
Where you had stumbled upon Wolf in the dead and night and approached him with loud, nonsensical, and stupid pickup lines to distract yourself, you’re now a stark contrast of before, like a bunny who finally realized that she hopped into the beast’s mouth.
You made the decision knowing it’s a bad one.
Reciprocating the hug that’s almost suffocating, your name easily leaves you along with a bunch of mundane facts about yourself. The flirty tone you used before is gone, too tired to try it and what’s left is just low and faint whispering into the others ears.
Seemingly mundane facts about your life are still so, so dangerous.
Even then, you still talk, casually mentioning the fact that you’re up to go to the convenience store, because you’ve been eating out since your parents are out of town.
It’s downright suicidal.
Wolf listens, resting his head on your shoulder and it’s warm.
Pausing only a few moments when playing with your hair whenever you mention something vital.
Vital in the way that it’s dangerous to tell someone you just met.
Vital as in your address, or the fact that your house only has one camera in the front of the house, whereas the rest of the cameras are down, because during the summer it had broken during a storm and no one wants to fix it anymore.
The fact of the matter is simple.
When you decided to approach the stranger in the dead of the night, you did so for the distraction.
Because the thing that haunts you into walking aimlessly, haunts you.
It’s a suffocating feeling, one you knew would never go away, how it would stay the moment you decided to go home and weep. All you could do would be to run, distract yourself from your reality and act as if you could still breathe easily. But you couldn’t do that forever, it’ll come creeping back just like all those times you read in tragedies.
Then came a solution, you just need something bigger. In the way that everything from before seems small in comparison.
Something bigger than your everything.
It’s its own self-serving masochism.
Your rambling is cut off with a hand pressed against your mouth. Wolf stares at you with the same look as before, he probably finished thinking of what he’ll do to something like you, and you can’t understand why it looks like he hit the jackpot.
Only serving to send a chill goes down your spine, but at the same time, something in you softens. Not because you suddenly care about Wolf Keum, but because you’re too tired to guard yourself.
With two people in each other’s company for different reasons, and sinister or not, it’ll be your savior. Behind the hand, you smile, kissing his palm as you raise your brow to question.
The actions both surprises him and delights him, as he places another kiss on your forehead, “Let’s get something to eat.” He hums, considering, before saying your name out loud and then frowning. “... Ugh. It’s pretty, but not enough. Not yet at least.”
You move his hand, and you really can’t find yourself to be offended, never did you find yourself overly attached to your name. Lazily, you place a kiss on his cheek, daring in the way that you shouldn’t be, “How bout a nickname?”
Wolf then returns back to his cheery mood, eyes lighting up and still never straying from you. If anything, he looks proud, as he slowly and almost reluctantly untangles himself from you. Completely out of his grasp, you have the feeling that it wasn’t really the case, that he could snatch you up any moment he wanted.
“A nickname, huh?”
There’s no turning back, and then the realization hits that there was no turning back the instant you stumbled upon him.
“Little rabbit?”
Oh.
It feels as if the sun had died and no one knows it yet, just you. And you walk on eggshells, waiting as each shell breaks but not a thing happens. The nickname is demeaning, almost and maybe even teasing, but likely in the truth the name holds.
Wolf Keum is unperturbed by the nickname he made as you are, rather seeming quite proud of himself. Now a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders, the night is cold, and there’s something unspoken in the air.
There’s nowhere to run, says the arm holding you close. You lean in, taking in the warmth that covers your bare shoulders while knowing that you’ll probably won’t be able to stay awake for much longer; eyelids feeling heavy as you use Wolf Keum as a guide.
It speaks volumes.
The oddities of the night pile up, one after the other, and there always seem something a little bit too off. Everything has been off ever since your world flipped upside down. Now you’re walking with someone you just met in some shady alley to go get something to eat.
Wolf pauses, letting out a small chuckle, before the walk continues.
“You’re not vegetarian,” His tone is casual, with a tiny lilt in his voice, “Are you?”
“No.”
He snickers, then the world is quiet, and it’s terrifying.
It’s only by coincidence, surely, that the paths you take only allow noise from the one guiding you. Surely, the world doesn’t bend for Wolf Keum, for anyone , but you imagine a smug and satisfied smile, and it’s dangerous.
“No, of course not.” He scoffs, amused, might even be charmed.
The walk is steadied and slowed, the position uncomfortable with your vision obscured with how Wolf tucks you into his hoodie. Led blindly, and the uncertainty compels time to go slower. To the other, it’ll certainly be regarded as leisurely.
You want to speak, words scratch and claw at your throat till it aches. Underneath your dress, you’re ridden with goosebumps, waiting while he’s dancing, dancing with glee and leading you in a song only he knows. Nonetheless, you sway along with a song that might as well be your last.
“So, what do you want to eat?” You could feel the small rumble from his throat, how the world snaps back into focus, the striking fact that he speaks like a thunder shot, like a force of nature that can’t be ignored, but the words don’t match, not at all. “Expensive is fine too, but not many places are open at this time—“
You feel him roll his head in your direction, surveilling your reaction.
“—or we could go to a bar.”
You snort.
There isn’t a single smart reason behind it, the fact remains that Wolf had mentioned a bar and your first thought had been that it would be crude for a supposed first date, and it had made you snort.
You could already imagine the curl of a smirk, how Wolf is already raising his brow in a silent question to the joke he’s not in on, and already see the gears turning behind his head trying to understand.
It’s pleasing, even if for a moment, that you could cause a small type of confusion to the man.
A misstep in their little dance.
“A bar?” You make your voice sound incredulous, popping your head up out of his hold to look at him. A fake gasp, “For our first date?”
Wolf makes no movement to change the position of his arm around your shoulder, expression exactly like you imagined, still holding you close to him as your eyes adjust to the bright lights you're suddenly exposed to.
This is good , you think, having been able to know what kind of expression he would make.
But then you see the tiniest flicker of cold calculation, maybe expectancy, in his facade, and you think maybe not. Maybe you're still dancing to his tune, still following his lead obediently.
The smile stays.
He looks at you, thinking, and you’re mesmerized. Wolf tilts his head, and he’s playing the puzzled, clueless man, acting with one brow raised in contemplation, but it’s teasing.
“I'm pretty sure that this is going to be more than just a simple first date.” He says, smile stretching, words drawled. “You approached me first. While it’s the dead of the night, and when it’s so fucking clear that there’s not a single person around to give a shit if I were to break you.”
The terrifying thing about this lies in the fact that his tone doesn’t change at all from his playful teasing.
The arm around you tightens, pulling you closer to whisper. Where his breath is hot on your ear, and tone switching to being sadistically bubbly that it could cut, and you stand there willingly without protest.
“And I still could, you know? Break you, and no one would come running to your rescue. Because I’m not a good man, but a fucking bastard, and I’m sure you knew that.”
Then the arm around you is suddenly gone.
Again, you’re free from his hold, and he’s waiting and waiting and waiting to see what you would do.
Expecting something from you, making bets in his head and watching. He moves back, face impassive, and away from you, and there’s an alley leading to the more populated areas of the streets.
A chance.
An escape.
If you’re quick, you could run to the crowd walking by in a few short seconds.
“I’m Wolf Keum.”
You don’t run.
Instead you take a few steps forward, hand reaching out and a determined look in your eyes. Holding a hand up for the bastard that just claimed he could break you without remorse, to the one who proclaimed that he isn’t a good man.
And, in truth, he can’t be a good man, because no good man would ever play cat and mouse for amusement like he does now.
It’s suicide.
You repeat your name, followed by your home address, number, and names of your parents. Like a damn preschooler reciting lines that mommy and daddy taught them to remember.
“To be honest, meeting you tonight is making me feel like a million bucks.” Your hand is still in the air, empty, “And I really don’t want to lose the opportunity I have tonight.”
When Wolf makes no move other than to watch.
Beckoning for you to take action yourself, to damn yourself and choose him who proclaimed he could break you.
You willingly go to him and take his hand into your own, and you nudge his side with your arm, brow raised and grin wide. “Killer standards, remember?”
Wolf quirks his brow, a grin of his own to match yours. Almost.
“I remember,” and his arm is back, resting comfortably around your shoulders. No longer suffocating in the way that it traps you, but relaxed in a manner that would be intimate, “Quite hard to forget the line that captured my attention.”
And this is it, and it will never be recorded in history, but it’s your fall from grace.
Fall from normalcy and the safety that comes with. It’s the disruption, the first domino falling, and all of it will be from your choice.
“Hey, how about we get some McDonald’s or something?”
Light gleams off his glasses, and you both walk farther and farther, distances away from the crowd on the other street.
The question, it amuses, many things always seem to amuse him further than you thought possible.
He’s back to before, the dreamy look that doesn’t make sense.
“How’d someone like you end up with me ?”
—you’re crying, sobbing out words and begging—
“It’s salvation.”
It stings, claws and squeezes till there’s nothing left. It wrings it out, the leftovers of your personality, whatever was left since the drowning. Truth never cared for feelings even if it killed. How unfair it was, to be at the mercy you can’t control.
So, you turn to elsewhere, away from it and to anything else but that.
—the bright orange hair and the soft, warm brown eyes. How he was yours and then not —
“For me, at least, you’re everything I need right now.”
Because, you can’t go home, not after that.
It would mean heading to bed with the knowledge that tomorrow would be different, that tomorrow will be a day shaped by loss, and the days after that will be the same.
It’s like you’re not real anymore, you don’t exist, and it’s hard to breathe when you feel like you don’t have lungs.
Then you stumbled upon a handsome stranger in the night, shit pick-up lines already falling from your lips, and spent every moment wishing that the stranger’s hair was colored a familiar orange instead of purple, and thought:
‘I guess it wasn’t possible.’
But then the stranger began to talk, and by god everything in you screamed to run as Wolf Keum presented himself.
Abruptly, you’re pulled away, away from your misery and the longing of what’s not there, and thrown into something freezing, something burning, because Wolf Keum is not a man that could be used as an afterthought of another, not one to be overshadowed.
It’s confusing, the emotions you feel inside that rages, conflicting against each other.
The things you’ve been taught, the things you’ve learned, and things that you want.
Wolf Keum makes you want to run. He makes you want to stay.
In simpler words, he’s perfect.
Wolf clicks his tongue, and this time he is truly baffled with former humor bleeding into skepticism, “Salvation?”
The laughter bubbles, begins small before growing, and it’s expected when the laughter becomes boisterous, wild and unruly. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and he doesn’t stop until he lets his embrace go and he’s wheezing on the ground.
“Salvation?”
He says the word again, as if he misheard, and your name falls from his lips repeatedly in a fashion that’s almost frantic to confirm your words.
When you make no move to correct him, no move to lie and say that he’s wrong, it dawns on him that you meant every word you said. It’s deranged, his smile twists, and you can’t back away.
“For real?”
But he doesn’t give you time to answer, your words dying when he sets himself upon you, hands grasping your arms and shaking you.
In an attempt to shake some common sense in you, maybe, you don’t know, but Wolf continues. He sounds furious, he sounds pleased, and he sounds as if he just heard a bad joke but still laughs.
The wide array of emotions coming from him is disorienting.
“Wow,” He’s sarcastic, disbelieving. But then he pauses, thinking, mulling over your words and what it means for him.
It’s enough time for you to move, to act.
And a part of you is offended, in some way, it’s insulting for your words to be doubted when you’re giving him everything to take.
“I’m not lying,” You do the unthinkable, because you need him to believe you and to know, and with your voice soft and genuine, everything that shouldn’t be around this man, you hug him and lean in to whisper.
“You are everything I need.”
It’s either this or home, where everything will drag you under.
The silence will suffocate, the ghost of what’s no longer there will devour, and it’ll be so lonely.
Where you’ll be staring at shadows and hoping it’ll become someone else, denying and bargaining the reality that’s there. Hours wondering where it all went wrong, recounting the past and the wanting will turn into days, and then into months, and the possibility of it becoming your eternity is there.
It’s easily pictured, imagined, and it’s worse than hell.
The monotony that will destroy you slowly.
(You think you might be crying.)
It’s either this, the unpredictability and uncertainty that comes with Wolf Keum, the danger that could literally kill you. It could pull you apart, you could suffer consequences from the worst of humanity, and you would break.
Easily, perhaps, maybe not so willingly as you are now.
It’s either this, your bad decision, and only this.
Because you can’t, won’t , go home. Not after that, it’s not a choice that you could take, and it leaves only this.
The wrongness, the unknown, and everything that goes against the safety you’ve established in your life.
Wolf Keum.
Maybe he doesn’t believe you, and maybe he’ll leave because of it. Then you’ll be alone, left to rot, and you can’t.
Not that, never that, you can’t go home as you are now.
“Understand?”
And you are so, so tired. The acknowledgment of your reality stings. Your words are softly murmured, and you’re falling.
What did you do today that led to this, but run?
You’ve been running all night, till your breath gave out and you began to walk. Away from everything just because it felt that you can’t not.
This is one of the results, falling in the arms of Wolf Keum, the self-proclaimed bastard.
Unfeeling as sleep begins to grasp you, eyes heavy, and body becoming weightless. Unfortunately, you can’t stay up to convince, to confirm, but the occurrences of tonight weigh heavy, it all builds up and your body can’t keep up.
If Wolf speaks, you wouldn’t know, his hold is unmoving when you begin to go slack, warmth enveloping as your head begins to rest against his shoulder. Numbly, you whisper the last words you could muster, vulnerable—
Huh.
In his arms is a fragile little thing, and Wolf muses to himself as he watches your steady breathing. Your words replaying in his head again and again, almost like a broken record.
Almost like a promise.
It’s a wonder how you never noticed the stench hidden underneath his clothes, with him tucking you deep under his arm, he had hoped to watch your reaction when you had realized.
But you never realized, a real fucking shame, but he can’t find it in himself to be disappointed.
Especially when you breathe so steadily in his arms, a cute little thing, falling asleep from what he could tell was some type of emotional exhaustion, maybe a little bit of something else.
What was it that pushed you to him?
Salvation, you called it, and he brushes your hair away from your face. A tiny bit annoyed that it wiped away the few remaining tears on your face.
It’s new , exciting, thrilling that someone would offer themself up to him for slaughter.
(Metaphorically, of course, you can’t just die right after meeting him. It’d be a fucking waste.)
“Rabbit.”
The nickname doesn’t really fit, but it’ll do well for now, and he finds himself giddy at the fact you’re the one who suggested nicknames in the first place.
Wolf hums, tracing a finger down your neck and to your pulse, before wrapping a hand around your throat. Noting down the difference in size, how small you were compared to him, and he could squeeze and you would stop breathing.
“Stupid bitch.”
It was an accurate description, and it’s one of the first things he thought when you approached him, a stranger in the middle of nowhere.
He had left to take a breather, and was met with shitty pickup lines in the darkest alleyway in the street. Irritation was his first reaction, that he was being hit on by some naive drunk ass bitch , but then he noticed how completely sober you were.
There’s also the fact that one would have to look closely to be able to see him in the dark of the night.
Plus the joke, the absolutely killer joke, and so what if you didn’t actually know what he knew?
It sent his spirits on a high, spiked his curiosity, the irony of it and how literal it could be.
His mood only got better and better the more you talked, the more you stayed when he gave you so many opportunities to save yourself.
It’s solely on you that has the misfortune of causing his good mood.
Wolf chuckles at the memory, as he picked you up gently into his arms, carful not to wake you, and visibly croons , “Idiotic fucker, you really have no idea what you got yourself into, do you? Can’t say I didn’t warn you though, and I gave you so many chances to run away— Hell, I would be considered a fucking saint just because of that.”
Then he’s thinking about how you looked at him as if he was a goddamn angel sent from above, as if he saved you from a freezing blizzard. How much that gaze of yours needed him.
He pauses in his steps, holding onto you, unwavering as he thought aloud to himself. Repeating your name to feel how it feels on his tongue. A pretty name, his to take when he deems it necessary to do so.
And there were those words you said, those fucking words and everything that hid underneath it.
It was a promise, really.
An allowance.
“Oh, you clueless motherfucker, I think I might be falling in love.”
Author's notes:
I will be continuing this one day.
Just not now.
Also, I highly recommend you to go and read the ao3 version because it's much more nicer than the tumblr version. I worked hard on that work skin, I swear; also I am much more comfortable there about sharing about myself.
Also, special shout out to my tumblr friends who kept my passion for Weak Hero alive! This story is only possible because of them.
(P.S. I will NOT have a tag list as of right now. A tag list may be opened one day in the future, but you would have to go check my pinned message if it happens.)
Wolf Keum meeting his co-worker for the first time must be like (That is Forest Lee btw).
Imagine going to the Union assembly, and when you entered the meeting office and you just see the person who just obilarated your face two days ago, and just sitting there with a wide grin. And then your boss told you that you will be working together from now on. You won't be enjoying your job anymore.
Are you still taking requests?Also can I be 🐼🔪 annon pls?
-🐼🔪 anon
hi!!
you sure can be my 🐼🔪 anon if you wanna! I'd be honoured!
you can always find the status for requests in the pinned post (masterlist). the requests are closed now, meaning i do not actively take or accept them. but you are free to put them in my inbox, i guess, in case i ever feel like writing something. I'm not promising anything though ;)
i'm not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are, can you do how the union members would confess to someone they like?
i kind of mentioned it (for donald and wolf) here, but it was about oblivious crushes specifically. so what I'm writing now is for the kinds of relationship where both people actually have an idea that they like each other, and not as friends, so it's not completely out of the blue, yknow?
Donald Na
he's not going to confess. not for a long time - a lot longer then you both and everyone around you need to figure out that you are deeply in love. you might easily kiss, fight, (not) date, have sex, do business, almost die for each other - before he confesses.
it's not because he's in denial, he knows perfectly well what's happening between you two, but at first he's simply unwilling to waste his time for something as unnecessary and inconsequential as a crush. when he thinks that way, even if you confess he's just going to reject you.
when this first period ends and he knows for sure that it's not just a crush, that he actually loves you, he's still not going to tell you - simply because having kind of ambiguous but obviously deep and important relationship is more fun for him. he doesn't deny you his affection at this stage, and if you confessed your feelings, he'd tell you he loves you too.
i think he'd only confess on his own when the benefits of the confession would outweigh its cons. i.e. if he thought he was going to lose you unless he admitted his feelings, or if the ambiguity simply wasn't as fun anymore and he craved clarity and sureness now.
the "how" doesn't actually matter much to him. if the situation dictated he do something immediately, he'd just tell you then and there exactly how he felt about you. if not, he could do it in a nice restaurant - exclusive, and expensive, and allowing some kind if privacy to its guests. he'd the conversation with some easy topics, like the recent business or how your day was, but when it came to actual confession, he wouldn't mix words. it'd be almost plain, no poetry at all, he'd tell what he feels and what he wants, and at this point he would be 99% sure that you'll respond in kind, but he would still ask for the final confirmation.
it would only be restaurant if it was something you enjoyed though. as i said, the place and the surroundings wouldn't matter much for him - meaning he would follow what he thought you'd like. it could as well be after training when you're both sweaty and exhausted and sharing a bottle of cool water, or one late evening in the office after a particularly tough but successful day, or maybe in the rarest case when you're both resting in a dark flat, watching tv and eating tteokbokki. he'd like it to be something pleasant and meaningful if possible, something you'll remember - but he knows you'll remember anyway.
Wolf Keum
i was gonna say that wolf would want to confess with his hands bloodied and teeth bared, but it's probably not true. he would confess in any way only after you saw him like this though. because, well, that's him. he'd fight you first if you're a fighter or if you made yourself into his target before, but if not, if you never felt his violence yourself, he'd made sure that you saw him fighting other people. he'd even be extra cruel with them. he'd need to see if you were scared and if fear of him prevented you from doing something - and if yes, he probably wouldn't confess until it was fixed, resolved. if you're going to be his partner, you need to be an equal, and you can't truly be his equal in his eyes if you're pissing yourself when he beats someone up. if you're afraid, you'd at least need to be able to act despite the fear.
when he's sure, he... probably still wouldn't confess tbh! he probably doesn't see much point in confessions, so if he believes his feelings are requited, he'd just start acting as if you're partners already!
and if you let him, then there's obviously no need to discuss all this useless stuff, right?
he'd probably only start talking about his feelings if you make him (i.e. don't let him introduce himself as your boyfriend out of nowhere), or if something else in your relationship doesn't work the way it in his opinion should.
so the confession probably wouldn't be very romantic, as you can imagine. it would be a simple, honest, open conversation about his and your feelings, expectations, and boundaries. perhaps a rather short conversation the first time, but wolf would feel the need to work through this once you start talking. it could be anywhere - on the school rooftop, in a club, in the middle of the street. he'd do something nice for you after he thinks it over - give you your favourite coffee or dessert, or bring you somewhere nice, like an old bridge or a deserted park.
Forrest Lee
he's the nicest and normalest in this bunch tbh. the confession would still be kind of delayed, but his reasons are a lot less obscure than Donald's or wolf's. he just wants to make sure he actually has a chance with you, that he won't make you uncomfortable with his unwanted feelings. he also takes in consideration his position in the union - if it could put you in danger, especially if you are a... civilian, let's say. forrest would call it "a good person" in his head.
after the decision is made, he's gonna plan. book a table in a restaurant, order your favourite flowers in advance, prepare the perfect speech. he'd think about writing a poem, but give up halfway, too embarrassed to even actual finish it. he'd choose some nice clothes, maybe a suit, but not too formal. he'd take you to the cinema first, any good movie with a happy end to set the mood. he'd probably stumble a few times during his speech, and have a hard time looking you in the eyes.
after he stops talking, forrest would wait for your answer as if its a judgement. a part of him will expect you to reject him, and even if you do - he's awkward and angsty, but still nice. if you say you feel the same, he's a lot less awkward and much more over the moon and beaming with happiness. he'd kiss you if you let him - probably for the first time.
Jake Ji
the king of joking and pranking confessions. if you have casual relationship (not childhood friends or something), he'd probably go with this kind.
what will it be? maybe your favourite pen or lipstick stolen and replaced with a note, informing you of the time and the place with no other specifications. and when you go there, you find your favourite dessert, but if you take a bite it tastes like hot sauce! and in the centre of the dessert there's another note with another time and place - a karaoke room, and when you get there, there's jake with freshly combed hair, smelling like The perfect perfume tm, and rapping about love! truly romantic! he won't give you your pen/lipstick back, but he'll give you another one he chose specifically for you.
all in all, i think jake would something completely ridiculous but requiring a lot of time, effort and attention. something lightheaded but showing he sees you, cares about you, cares to know you.
it's different if your relationship is not so casual. if you know a bit more about his dark side or if you simply know him more, better and longer, he'd have a lot more reservation about confessing - at least while he's in the union. if he decides it was worth it, i think he'd go with something much plainer too, less fun and more harsh truths.
(You can do other characters in Weak hero, up to ya)
hiii! I'm so sorry I'm answering so late and, well, so little. but i felt like writing something and had a bit of time to do it for the first time in a while, so... yknow, i thought a little something is better than nothing, lol. ahhh and i kind of thought these asks fit really well together, so here we are i guess :) also I'm not sure if it can be described as enemies to lovers, cuz it's a very slowburn trope, so it's more like enemies to... something? I'd love to do more characters sometime, but i cannot imagine when lol. ah and thank you so much for sending an ask with one of my favourite tropes! wishing all of you a nice day 💙💙💙
Enemies to lovers
(Dongha Baek, Wolf Keum)
Dongha Baek
it doesn't start with outright enemies, not really. dongha hears of you first and cannot help but imagine how fun it would be to put you in your place, to see that calm and collected look vanish from your face, changing to anguish, humiliation, fear.
you're a rich kid. you don't need to flaunt it around for him to notice your clothes, casually expensive, either famous brands or handmade eco stuff, to notice your calm demeanor, the nicest perfume he ever got to inhale, the easy way you pay for shit - not looking at the price tag, never haggling, never getting off your high horse.
he hates people like you. what the fuck are you even doing in that got forsaken gang of losers? that's what he'd asked, if he didn't know for sure. you're simply enjoying playing with other people, flaunting your money around, looking down on shitheads ready to do anything to acquire the kind of power you were blessed with from birth.
how he'd love to remind you of your place. sure, you're rich, but he knows from experience how weak rich people truly are. how easily they break, how easily they start trying to buy you, to buy their dignity back with their money. perhaps he should let himself be bought this time, after he gets his fun. then he can play with you again later.
your gang was at the unions throat for a while now, and the fact that you still weren't destroyed was telling. it was telling one thing to most people, but the thing it was telling to dongha baek was: you sorely need to be reminded of your place.
it started like many gang fights do. a bit of shit talking, hands in their pockets, eyes gleaming with malice and mischief. you were in this business for enough time to know where it was going, and while dongha was talking you were silently getting ready.
his first swing was expected, so was the second. he wasn't entirely easy to read, but there was something else - some recklessness, wildness to his moves that set you on edge. he also laughed - all the time. startled laughter when you almost got him, raspy chuckle when you did get him, high pitched ringing laughter when it was you groaning in pain and not him. he was constantly mocking at first, the neverending shit talk, but as the fight continued, there were less and less words.
you were weird. there was something about your eyes, something about your bloody smile that didn't add up with everything he's seen of you till now. there was some hunger in you, some spite buried deep behind your polite smile. some genuine, impossible to fake strength. power.
there wasn't a clear winner that day, and you remember talking shit to each other lying on cold concrete with no strength to get up. you think it was fun and then you think you must've hit your head.
you sure start to see each other more often after that. in the streets, when you're going around for business and when you're resting. he's always trying to get you angry, to start some shit, and sometimes you deflect with polite phrases hiding a biting insult under the surface, sometimes you end up fighting it out.
it's stupid. you feel stupid every time you meet him, like some part of your brain - the reasonable, calm, smart part - shuts off when you see his shit eating grin. you're letting yourself get angry. you're letting yourself get reckless.
you should stop.
you seek him out yourself, ready to put an end to this nonsense. you start it this time, for the first time in forever. he's laughing and talking shit again, and you let it get under your skin despite yourself.
you scream for the first time in forever. it's an ungodly, impolite, weird, embarrassing sound. it's loud and wild. you're screaming and kicking and biting like an animal, because you're furious at that bastard, that pathetic fiend, and you are - you'd let him get under your skin - and you are - in love.
you think it, and it's ringing so terribly final in your head you start laughing.
dongha finally understands, and he laughs with you.
Wolf Keum
you're everything wolf has ever hated. a weak loser acting tough until it's time to get behind your words, to prove yourself. a small time criminal, freelancer on the dark side, kissing Donald's ass right after sweet-talking the union's enemies into a nice deal. two-faced liar and a coward.
wolf cannot help himself when he sees you. how can you act so confident, how can you run your fucking mouth so smoothly when you know - by experience - how it feels to be completely broken down?
by him, nonetheless.
you were (supposed to be) just another one of wolf's many victims. just another one lying before him, all bloody and broken, bloody mouth, broken breath, broken bones for sure, red and beneath the red - yellow and rose blooming into majestic purple. swollen face, swollen hands.
you were - all broken. but you were not - just another one.
you never stopped. you never let what was done to you stop you, you never even truly changed your tactics. you knew no shame. it was so disgusting, so infuriating to wolf that at some point it started to be fun.
every time he needed to do business with you he couldn't pass the chance to play. to remind you: you are weak. worthless. he could tear you up right then and there, and there'd be nothing you could do to stop him.
sometimes it was mild humiliation. some talking down, "remember what fun we had together?", "wanna repeat?", spit on your shoulder, sometimes on your face. other times he's more hands on: grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, snarling in your face, "perhaps i should bite your lips off. would be hard lying without them". and then there are times when he makes you hold his glasses and - "come on. stare at me like you did just now. don't you dare looking away from me, you dipshit" - puts his hand on your throat and squeezes.
you deal with a lot of assholes. it's basically the job description. but none of those other assholes are wolf keum. you've learned to be cold and hard and perfectly smooth like a pebble in the river. do not give a reaction. do not stop smiling. do not take sides. do not go down. do not - the list goes on. you have to be perfect. you have to survive.
wolf never fails to remind you how far from perfect you actually are.
you do not give him any reaction you are able to mask or subdue. it's never anything more than the slightest shiver, the smallest tick - but that's enough. wolf looks intently, and he sees. he grins like a mad dog that needs to be put down.
you do not go after him yourself. you're not that stupid, or brave, or self-assured. no, you do what you do best - you talk to people, you make deals, you exchange one favour for another, until it all falls into place.
you make other people go after him. the strongest guys you were able to talk into it from all over Seoul. all of it, except for the yeongdeungpo. they go, and you wait anxious and excited for the results. when there's finally a phonecall, you take it immediately.
then you hear his voice. it's gruff and low. it says "stay where you are. we'll meet soon enough".
he sends you the photos before coming, before you're able to decide what to do. the photos are shaky and bloody and your stomach turns when you look at them.
and then comes wolf. he's bloody and beaten too, perhaps even more than the guys on the photos, but you know him and he knows you know him: he's a fucking zombie, and he won't let his current condition stop him.
he also knows you. he knows that slightest shiver, that smallest tick. he knows what to expect, he readies himself for your blabbering, for your fucking lies - but you don't open your mouth. not this time.
you ready your fists, and wolf chokes on his laughter. he seems excited, indignant, startled. tired. he's beaten down - but you know that if he grabs you it will be the end. if the punch goes through - it will hurt. so you don't let him grab you or hit you for as long as you can. you find a wire and wrap it around his throat, ready to kill. he grabs you then. he punches you, and it seems you forgot how much it could hurt. it's terrible. you do not let go of the wire though, and the punches become rarer and weaker and then they stop.
wolf doesn't talk to you after that. he lets his minions do his business, and you don't see him for weeks. until suddenly you do.
you prepare for the worst, but he doesn't make a move aside from dragging a cig to and from his lips, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. watching you watching him. there's something new in his eyes - something different from the familiar sick amusement and rage and boredom. something softer, gentler - not like plush or clouds, but like a green sprout only starting to grow, easy to destroy, to kill.
you take a step in his direction, then another one, and another, until you're standing side by side. close. too close. when wolf offers you a cigarette, you take it before you think better. the cigarette is way too strong and bitter, and yet somehow you do not mind.
back from the dead to post quality wolf keum edit, he was actually smiling and too cute to covered in blood here so i fixed it. ill get to your requests soon folks!
Hi, not sure if it's too late for any request already from your post the other day. But I was wondering if I could request a piece about what the second in commands like to do. So what Grape, Hwangmo, and them are up to when not dealing with union business and their respective school heads.
And again if it's too late for request I completely understand.
doing both grape and robin cuz I don't pick sides lmao
Grape
instagram and tiktok. he's a bit of an influencer, and you better be sure he uses all his bad boy charm and all of his looks. he's kind if popular both among his peers and among people who just like his looks. he thinks the peak of his Instagram career was when he got Jake's subscription.
keeping track of rankings and rumours on shuttlepatch. he cares about this stuff even more than you'd think he would, and he likes having additional information.
daydreaming about beating up wolf. when eunchan wants to get grape into some sort of media or a game, he says that the the antagonist is kinda like wolf, and grapes interest is picked lol. if turns out to be true, he can even get a bit obsessed with the piece and start shitposting about it (he always cringes after that tho and ends up deleting everything, so robin and eunchan take screenshots for leverage).
Robin
beating up people. he's not as much of a maniac as wolf, but he also fights for fun a lot more than most of his peers.
playing the hardest games he can find. he doesn't believe shit until he tries it, so when he hears that winning against some boss is impossible he's the first to try and prove everyone wrong. he actually got pretty good thanks to it, and grape sometimes convinces him to stream something. robin isn't very interested in streaming unfortunately, so he doesn't often do it on his own.
reading stolen comic books. he almost never buys them, but he enjoys reading action and erotic ones, and stealing is kinda fun in itself. if he gets caught, he usually goes with intimidation, and it works most of the time. there was one time when it didn't work, and he had to do community service for a month.
Hwangmo
internet cafes. you cannot tell me he doesn't hang out there. he probably goes alone and plays some unmanly stuff like romantic visual novels or something. he goes with his friends too sometimes, but they always end up some boring rpgs with shitty fighting systems, so he really prefers to just go alone.
part time job. not a leisure thing or anything, but I really think Hwangmo works even though he gets the union commissions. he's acutely aware that he's not smart enough to go to college, and he's not sure he wants to spend his life fighting and doing illegal stuff, so he tries to get some experience while he can. just in case.
cooking. it's usually simple food - fried eggs and rice, chicken soup, ramen, but he enjoys it. a few years ago he made kimchi with his mother, and it was... cathartic. he thinks of making it again from time to time, but it takes too much effort.
Kingsley Kwan
Kingsley probably just... studies when he has time free from the union business. he needs to keep his grades up, but he also kind of enjoys it. studying is peaceful and logical and organised, and it's all the things he doesn't get in the union.
reading complex yet monotonous books. I'd say it's mostly scientific and philosophical works, but when he's reading artwork he probably still goes for the longest hardest things. he loves Ulysses (but he also loves Dubliners and the fact that one person could write both). sometimes, quite rarely, he reads light-hearted novels, and he likes them for a while but they always leave him bitter in the end.
researching stuff like time management, healthy lifestyle. it's all to easy not to drown in the union business, to stay afloat, and Kingsley also feels like he has to keep donald grounded - he doesn't always succeed but... he feels he has to. he tries. it's never quite enough but it's something.
Dean Kwon
rapping with jake and co. it started in karaoke clubs, but later they started doing in the parks and on the streets for fun. dean likes it more than he lets on though. he tries to write his own lyrics from time to time, but he doesn't really share with anyone. at least not until jake and eunchan and Timothy all come up with a good enough bait to make him rap something of his own. it's good - a bit erratic and incomplete, but good. they still make fun of him for it.
doing stick and poke tattoos. his rose is made that way. he does it for other guys too, sometimes even for free if he's in a good mood. dean also likes making the designs for the tattoos, and he constantly gets better at it. he wants to get something professionally made sometime though, but he knows it'd be more permanent so he wants it to be perfect.
going to dog parks and just watching the dogs. sometimes he pets them, and most of the owners like him. he once got a part time job as a dog sitter because of that, but he had to quit when he got in the union, because he didn't get enough time anymore.
Jack Kang
keeping the motorcycle running. playing mechanic a bit, cleaning it, changing parts. he becomes rather good before he even knows it. he likes how logical it is and how the reward of the work is clear and immediate. plus they don't need to go to the auto service centers anymore because he does everything.
hanging out with jimmy. they're obviously together at school, and they're often busy with the business, but when they're not it's nice to just go around, sing some silly karaoke, drink and talk about stuff. they almost always end up talking about the union, but sometimes they just talk about each other and the past, and jack likes it the most.
household chores. i feel like jack's one of the people who like the immediate result of cleaning the room, doing the laundry or making food. it doesn't take that much of a time either. it keeps him grounded, and it's still simple when nothing else is. for a time being he can turn off his brain and just do something, and things will be at least a little bit better when he finishes. what's not to like?
the previous post was the last request i received while the requests were open. i have some more that i received after i stopped actually taking them, and I'm gonna keep them in my inbox in case I'll ever have time and be in the mood to write them. not promising anything though.
also if you're wondering if the requests are open or closed you can always find the current status in my pinned!
to clarify: i don't actually mind receiving new requests while the status is "closed". i just want you to keep in mind that i probably won't be able to do them anytime soon if at all
Union with an s/o that also has a dark past ( could be in another district or city )
wow, mysterious~ okay, so it would all totally depend on what kind of dark past we're talking about and on their current attitude tbh... and since you didn't specify I'm just gonna do whatever I want lmao :)
so, the reader here was the leader of some dark infamous gang based in another district, and they weren't known for their benevolence (more like tyrannical style of ruling and cruelty). but after most of your guys betrayed you, you had to flee in yeongdeungpo. you also had time to reflect, so you decided to not get involved in this shit anymore and just live a normal live, unless someone tries to mess with you. and yet here you are, finding yourself with a union member... what a mess!
Union with a s/o who has a dark past
Donald Na
you couldn't tell for the life of you how you ended up with donald after so much thinking done, after your decision to just stick with a normal life. you just couldn't not get in this mess. you only hope that he at least doesn't know anything about your past: even back in the days you've always been very protective of your identity.
for a while, everything is fine. you talk business, and then you talk philosophy, and then you talk nice smaller things in life. you meet up at nice little cafés, unknown to most people, then at hookah bars and lounges, then in his office in Yeoinaru. people always feel small with donald na, but not you. you feel like a god, you feel like he's a god too, but somehow you don't want to warship or curse him. you want to see him for who he is, you want to stay, you want to help. you want to revive your empire or to start a new one, but luckily you're not quite delusional enough to actually try that.
so for a while everything is fine and more. and then it's not.
you understand it when you think you see one of your guys - one of these traitors - on the other side of the street. even if you know you made enough mistakes in the past, you can't help being bitter. you tell yourself it's your imagination and go on with your day, but it's not, and you see them more and more often. you think they came for you, but they did not. they came for yeongdeungpo.
donald is forced into a confrontation and, though he's good with confrontations, it makes you feel guilty. would everything be the same if you were another kind of leader before? would anything change if you never joined the gang? no use thinking about it now, you'll have to deal with the consequences regardless.
in a more favourable scenario you tell donald the truth yourself. in a less favourable one someone else tells him about it, and then he comes to you to discuss it. there's some suspicion from him, some annoyance about not having the full info from the start.
it's fine though - surprisingly so. he's not actually angry, not exactly punishing. his calm demeanor makes you uneasy. donald informs you that you'll have to make it up to him, help him destroy the assholes from your past gang. it's gonna be painful, but not as painful as you might have expected. not as much drama as you might have expected. you can do it.
so you do it. you think the air itself is clearer when it's over. it's easier to breath. donald trusts you more now, and his trust is overwhelming. he doesn't hate you for this - actually, your past only made your relationship stronger. and you finally feel ready for something new. for building something new. not as a tyrant, but as yourself, together with a person you care for.
he cares for you too.
Phillip Kim
it was easy for you to meet this particular asshole. he hangs out with other people often, eating and drinking and signing karaoke, and perhaps someone invited you some time, or perhaps it was all a big coincidence, a mix-up. you met each other anyway, and phillip always finds himself attracted to people like you - someone powerful, strong, with a sway over people. someone who's about to change something, even if they don't even know about it themselves. he cannot help himself, and neither can you - it's in the way you walk, talk, in the way you carry yourself. perhaps it's one of the reasons your gang was your gang in the past. but you know all too well: it was never enough. it never will be.
he has a way with people too - his own way. some compliments, some subtle bribery, expensive liquor and gifts. he notices things you like and focuses on them specifically. you feel special. he feels you're special too, and before long this feeling becomes attraction, more simple and more complex at the same time.
it's easy for you to talk to him - he makes sure you feel that way, makes sure to change the subject if you seem uncomfortable, to use words and phrases that make you smile. you cannot help but like him, even though you know it's not all natural. it's easy for you to open up to him, to let something slip. perhaps it makes you a bit wary - but it doesn't change. you let something slip, and Phillip catches it and never lets go.
he digs until he finds something. he asks his friends, and they ask their friends, and their friends ask someone else, until the information goes all the way to Phillip. he has some pieces of the puzzle now, and he's smart enough to figure out the rest.
it fascinates him even more. you fascinate him. your past, your present, your future. your image and your presence. everything about you. he feels like he's found gold, real gold, and it's even more overwhelming then when he met donald - because unlike with donald, this time he's the only one who truly knows about you.
he doesn't tell you right away that he figured you out. he wants you to tell him yourself, to confirm that he's as special for you as you're for him. he'll try to push you gently in the desired direction, and if you give in he'll be thrilled.
if you don't though? he'll try again. and again. he'll protect your secret from the other people too. if you do not budge, at some point he'll just... let you know that he knows. he'll just start discussing with you something from your past, in his usual tone, and when you understand that he knows and freeze, he'll put you at ease like he's done all this time. he'll tell you he's not threatening you, that he just wants to talk, that he won't tell anyone unless you give your consent.
Phillip will push you to be even better, and by better he means better in exercising your power, more powerful, revolutionary. he'll see your normal life as wastefulness, a waste of your endless potential. you don't deserve to be normal. you deserve the best - to be your best self too. it's bad if you don't see eye to eye, but if you do? if you actually want more, want to be more? there's no one who'd be better for you.
Jake Ji
jake is normal. jake is nice. you'll never think he's in the union if you just see him on another the street. he pays for his comic books, and he laughs when someone tells a good joke and not when someone bullies his classmates.
he's nice. good, even. you start to notice him, to recognise him, and sometimes you even want to talk to him, but you do not dare. he's good. you - even with your newly found normal life - are not. so you stick with being glad that people like him exist at all and imagining what hanging out must feel like.
it's alright. he comes to you, introduces himself and invites you to hang out with him and his friends. it feels good - so good you wonder if you actually deserve it. it feels light and easy and right. you laugh more then you have in years, and it's your real laugh, not some twisted sarcastic version of it. it's like a dream, warm, filled to the brim with light and happiness.
he tells you to come hang out with them again, and you do. you go to an internet cafe, and Timothy absolutely destroys everyone. the next time you go watch a football match between two middle school teams. the next time you go to anime convention.
you start to notice more and more that it's just you and him. that it's just the two of you most of the time. it's fun, and though you enjoy hanging out with his friends too, being alone is just... different. special. his eyes are even warmer then usual, his hands are gentler.
you don't know he's not all sunshine and rainbows until a group of delinquents traps you both in a dead end of a narrow street. you prepare to protect him, your pretty sunshine boy, but instead you see a tiger. a violent animal living under his skin, finally making an appearance. he's holding back - it's so clear to you, it's heartbreaking and ridiculous at the same time. he thinks you'll be scared of him if you see him for real, if you see him fighting for real. he thinks you will be afraid, and he does not want it because he thinks you're nice.
you cannot help but laugh. it's a bitter sound, and you haven't laughed like that since you met him. jake looks at you and chuckles too, just a bit, as if he's not sure if he should. if you're laughing at something he would find funny.
you end up seating at the front of a 24/7 store, drinking flavoured milk and talking. completely honest for the first time. jake tells you about the union, then about his brother. you tell him about your gang, your ex-friends betraying you. he complains about the union business and the dirt, and you tell him how you want to live a normal life now. he whispers that sometimes he wants to just start beating people without holding back, and just continue beating them until he can no longer feel his hands. until he's satisfied. you take his hand in yours and say "me too".
you continue to hang out, but it's different now. honest, true. real. you kiss. then you decide to try and fight each other, and even your fight is perfect. satisfying. you feel like you finally drank some cold clear water after years of thirst. and you're alright. you're normal - in the way only you can be.
hey hey hey! greetings from rare-and-beautiful-things :)
you said you didn't mind asks and requests, so here I am to beg for you to please feed me uwu. i gotta admit there's a thing that really troubles me since the start of my obsession with manager na. did you see the tattoos on his knuckles? do you actually think it's possible for him to keep these tattoos in pristine condition considering the strength of his punches? because I feel like the skin on his knuckles would be split open so many times, and the tattoos would be all messed up...
really loved these hcs about him heating up when excited and having trouble with lids cuz of rings lmao
do you have any hcs about his trauma? what do you think of his coping mechanisms? do you like bread? i got into these headcanon of baekjin baking his own bread not long ago, and i just cannot stop thinking about it
sorry for... much words lol, i was just excited to talk to you i guess. please don't take anything too seriously (unless you want to, in this case be my guest), and don't feel pressured to reply :)
have a beautiful day!
love ya 💙💙💙
Feed you I shall- please consider this a love letter to the only person I know who wants to read the dark corners of his mind like I do.
*cracks knuckles*
Donald Na, Baekjin Na, sun god, golden boy... what can I tell you about him?
Loooooooong drabble/headcanon slurry under the cut
I'll start where you did I guess- his tattoos.
UGH his tattoos .
Nothing has been a source of willing frustration for me like his tattoos.
I set out to map his tattoos (that we know of thus far) and learned....
some things
but I'll save that for another post- I'm sure it will be long and technical.
To answer your question-
The delicate swirls and symbols on his hands should be in shreds
Truly, there should be nothing recognizable
But they're perfect
and I think that's intentional
look at where he uses his fists
stomach, throat, etc.
He punches where his opponent physically caves to his will
Caves so that he never even takes a scratch.
Never breaks a sweat
Never ruffles carefully gelled hair
Never wrinkles the Versace that he wears like armor
Really, what else do you expect?
***
I really like the thought that despite the intelligence, the perfection, the violence, the wealth... Baekjin Na is still a 17 year old kid.
I mean- he's just one person.
(that deeply, viscerally hit me when I saw this art (link))
***
I'm actually realizing this as I write, but I'm similar to him on the childhood front-
For lack of a better term, he was bullied for his intelligence
Perfection? Shit's scary. Doesn't matter who you talk to.
His classmates? these kids saw strange, other, outsider, different and fought for their own little survival in their own way
But let me tell you- what Baekjin saw was a wall
a wall of people too stupid to see you- frightened little sheep too scared to wonder about the wool over their eyes.
It's infuriating
They're unreachable because they don't seem to speak the same language as you.
They seem to have a hive mind you don't have access to.
And oh ho hoooo let me tell you from experience
his DIRECT response to that is a bone-deep and powerful need to scream:
"look at me please take me seriously I am not beneath you I can be useful Take me seriously LOOK AT ME see me dammit."
It's such a powerful need you don't know you have it. It leaks out your eyes and your ears and you bleed it until it's who you are.
That is his identity- and we can still see it.
Because "look at me" turned to "worship me" turned to "kneel to me" turned to "bow to the king of everything you love".
I guess my argument here is his coping mechanism is his entire identity.
He copes in other ways though
He's a big symbols guy
The symbols of power he wears for other people's benefit
and a small symbol of life he keeps for himself-
bread
I can hear my literature teacher SCREECHING in my ear: Bread is communion Bread is a biblical symbol Bread brings people together Bread is a symbol of Life
And she's right
Bread is the symbol of life and strength and prosperity and communion and
maybe, just maybe
Bread is the one thing Baekjin can hold himself together around
I think I'll leave you with that
This ask was such an amazing surprise! and I had way too much fun thinking about it
this! this is so good and funny and sad, i love everything about this post TT_____TT
i gotta admit i kind of stopped with my donald na bullshit for a while and got on the wolf keum train, but i feel so inspired and reconnected now! very very good stuff here, thank you so much for feeding me 💙💙💙
on another note, for people who still wait for their hcs to be done: I'm working on it, but my sick days are over, so the time is an issue lol. I promise I'm trying tho!
Hello! I just want to thank you for everything you've written. It really means a lot whenever I start to read it. Thank you!!!!
hello! wow, i... I'm gonna cry here, anon. thank you so much for leaving such a nice message for me. it really means a lot when people reach out to me, and I'm always so so grateful. so, thank you, i love you, and you're truly welcome 💙💙💙
hiii🌸 I thought a lot about this idea, can you write some headcanon about union guys with s/o who is a street racer?
thank you and stay safe✌️
hiii! yeah, gladly! you stay safe too, dear anon! i thought how it would play out best, and I think I'm gonna give the reader here a nice motorcycle, hope you don't mind~
Union guys with a street racer s/o
Wolf Keum
it's no secret that wolf has a motorcycle. it's no secret that he drives recklessly either. but there's reckless driving, hurrying to get from point a to point b, and then there's street racing. another level of recklessness altogether. another level of rush, of adrenaline pumping through your veins too.
when he hears it for the first time, wolf is only vaguely interested. when he actually gets to see it... well. it's wild.
he sees you, and then you become a flashy figure, moving at full speed along the raceway. cars and bikes surrounding you look so unwieldy and heavy in comparison to you. and you look like a fucking lightning, all speed and flash and dangerous turns that look oh so smooth and easy.
he's hyped when you're near him again, eager to congratulate you and to shit talk the other racers. might not even notice if you tell that there actually were some pretty cool people in the race. his point is - he wants in. to try it, to race you. he bets he's gonna beat you easily just to get a rise out of you, but despite all his talk he actually looks a bit like an excited puppy (except the puppy can easily beat pretty much anyone who mentions it).
it doesn't have to be an official race - probably better if it's not tbh. that way he can focus all of his attention on you. when you start racing, it's new for him, and it's wild. he's been known to drive recklessly, too fast, too stupid, but it's different when it's a competition. more exciting. more dangerous - more dangerous then his fights even. and it's freeing.
wolf loves that feeling, but it also irritates him, because in this kind of struggle he cannot just grab something and proceed to beat it up. it's something that cannot be caught, a feeling, a person, the finish line is ahead and then behind, and you can never catch anything and you cannot be caught if you don't stop or if you don't die.
wolf would never think about it with this kind of words, but it's scary for him. it feels like he can never catch you too, only drive past you or be left behind forever. you notice after that that his grip on you becomes tighter, that you feel his hands on you more often. it's futile. but maybe you'll stay anyway.
Eunchan Hong
eunchan is so fucking hyped the moment he hears that you're a street racer. he thinks you're joking at first, but when he sees you riding a bike, he's just like... whoa.
wants to boast about having a street racer partner. a real street racer, grape, you just don't get it (grape just didn't get over the fact that eunchan found a s/o first). watches your every race and is arguably more happy then you are when you win, partly because he can tell the others about this, but mostly just because... you know. you've won!! yoo-hoo!! go you!!
treats you to your favourite food after your every win, because you need to celebrate. after your every lose too, because you still need to celebrate you surviving the freaking race and you'll surely win the next one! i mean, it's you! the street racer!
would love to just ride behind you around the city on full speed. he'd open his arm like he's flying on a hippogriff and shout, but then he'd almost fall and spend the rest of the ride clinging to you.
gets grape to do a photoshoot with the two of you and the motorcycle. time is largely spent fooling around. grape tries to explain that he cannot do a good quality photo when of you riding the bike with only the camera on his smartphone, eunchan says he got no talent. you end up taking a photo of you just siting on your bike with a filter that makes it look like there's motion. it looks ridiculous, but eunchan loves it.
if you ever get hurt while racing it's gonna be so hard on him. he's always supported this hobby? job? of yours, and sometimes even pushed you to go on, so if you get hurt because of it he's gonna feel so guilty. not in a "it's all my fault" way, but in a "fuck, i really only focused on the fun part while ignoring the safety" way, and it's gonna be heartbreaking because... it's kinda true.
he's ready to try and be better though? and even if you don't get hurt but just sit him down and explain that. no. it's not all fun and games. it's actually a pretty violent thing. he'll get. and he'll do his best to support you through it in the way you need him to. (also you may or may not be the reason for him to get his own motorcycle)
Jack Kang
lol. so you're a street racer? no you're not. it's not allowed here. no street racers in this house, no sir. do you seriously mean you're doing some dangerous sport? really? couldn't you just choose fighting instead? you don't need a start-up capital for it, and if you were a fighter he would actually have a decent chance in protecting you. it also wouldn't sound so tempting for Jimmy who's on a low start to get into street racing himself.
when jack gets that he cannot talk you out of it, he just gives up. whatever. you want to risk your life, he's not gonna stop you. for now he's just gonna make sure you know everything about the safety measures, and that you use every single one. (you don't. it's impossible if you want to continue winning. jack knows it too)
he'll watch every single one of your races and try to hide how much he likes some of your moves, but there's this glint in his eye, a ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips. once you notice it you can clearly see how much he likes watching you on your bike, but he's just too worried to let himself be perfectly happy - until he just. lets go, and then he can be happy for you, be proud of you, even with the feeling of doom sitting in his chest. he'll just accept you as you are.
he'll offer to help you train, to help you take care of your bike. he's good at this - both riding and maintenance. it's also a good bonding experience to quietly do it together.
he'll also offer to ride with you if you're frustrated and need some speed and wind to get it out of your system. he won't try to outrace you, only to not stay behind and keep an eye on you. that way, even if you crash, he'll hopefully have the time to call an ambulance or something.
he's perfect to talk to about the technical side of the races, because he knows what you're talking about. he knows when something's cool even if it's not flashy, and he knows when it's nothing special even though it looks cool. when he watches you race, you can be sure that he actually sees you, what you're doing, for what it is, and it's as exhilarating as the race itself.
not a request but I was writing naksung and remembered this old headcanon of mine about the fam that I never shared, so.
I like to think that all the guys in naksung fam come from abusive households. they met each other some time ago and formed the fam in middle school and in the last year of it decided that it's been enough. they're strong, young, and they're together, so they found themselves an affordable apartment and rented it out. it's a lot easier to pay rent with Donald's commissions then with part-time jobs, so they're all really holding on to this business. it's also part of why they find jake and his group so annoying - the guy wears fucking givenchy hoodies, barely does anything in the union (or barely did lol, I admit I like him a lot more in the new season) and still gets the money. like what.
hi I was wondering if you would do the union guys with a reader who is always zoning off and as a result always ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time if not that is fine I love your writing it always makes me smile and I hope you have a lovely day
hey there! sure, I'd love to! thanks for loving my writing and my day is already lovely thanks to you 💙
Union guys with a s/o who always finds themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time
Wolf Keum
lol. good for you.
no, really. just imagine yourself walking around with wolf, and he's kinda quiet, and you slowly start zoning out, going deeper and deeper into that world inside your head. your legs are moving, you're still going somewhere, but where you couldn't say for the life of you. and what does your beloved wolf?
he just follows. at first he's like "oh well, they probably know where they're going", but after a few minutes he understands that... nope. you don't. somehow it only makes it funnier for him, so he continues to follow you, until you arrive at your mysterious destination. called trouble. so wolf sees it and, whether or not you can actually handle this particular trouble yourself, he just goes "aww. look at this. is this for me? you shouldn't have :)" and then he eats the fuckers like they're nothing, all giddy and bubbly. congrats! you just killed two hares with one bullet or whatever they say.
it's all nice and easy when you're together. all the trouble is no trouble for wolf but entertainment. but when you're alone? all alone and in the wrong place and at the wrong time? whatever are you going to do? lol jk just call him or text him or whatever. chances are he'll be there before your current "problem" will be done with shit talking.
after a few of such encounters you're going to be infamous. a city legend, if you will. the wolf summoner.
you will arrive in some crappy location, see the dangerous people around, see the shit boiling around you. and these people will see you and be like "crap. it's them. the wolf will be here soon". so they'll be like "hey hey buddy, pal, take it easy, we're already leaving, nothing is happening here", and you'll be like "okay but how do I find the subway station?", and they will lead you to the subway station and pray that you'll remember them fondly.
but there's always shitheads who don't believe in city legends. and there's always other districts where many people have yet to hear about you and wolf. there's still mountains to conquer, assholes to beat. the world sure will never be boring for wolf as long as you're around.
Naksung Yoon
naksung really loves his fam. one of the reasons is that when you're with the group and start to stray away, someone will inevitably pull you back - either physically pull you by the hand or the collar of your shirt, or just start walking closer to you, ensuring that you won't get lost while the fam is busy chatting and bickering with each other.
but you are not always with the fam, and this simple fact ensures than part of naksung's mind will constantly be concentrated on you and he will only be calm and without worry when seeing you right before his eyes. at all other times he needs to know where you are, where you are gonna be in the near future, what are your plans, how are you feeling. it feels kinda controlling (and naksung is not without fault in that field unfortunately), but it's not about control. it's about your fucking history of zoning out at the worst times.
the first times it happened he was drunk af. he would've liked to black out and and simply forget everything, but he cannot. he can, however, prohibit the subject from ever being discussed. he does his best to simply not drink alcohol if you're not there now, so hope your Fridays are free.
naksung is always ready to get a message from you like "hey, I'm at xxx and there's gonna be a fight between the y and the z gangs lol" or "hiii you know I think I'm gonna be killed by this mob boss in 15 min, it's wild man *selfie at the gunpoint attached*". he's ready for this when he's going to sleep, and when he's going around doing shit for donald, and when he's at the class, and when he's hanging out with bros. he's ready. every. fucking. second.
and yet you still manage to surprise him. it's better if you kinda can handle the trouble you get yourself into, but if you're helpless? the man here just got freaking paranoia babe.
on the bright side! when in the midst of the trouble you manage to acquire some useful info and give it to donald, donald is happy. and when donald is happy, the quality of your life goes up. so, like, it's not all for naught!
but maybe you should think about living with the fam? might be a bit awkward at first, and they'll probably have to find another apt and moving out is a hassle, but for you... perhaps...
Jimmy Bae
are you serious? it's really hard for him to believe that this shit is actually happening. i mean, are you seriously telling him that you're just zoning out and go somewhere and end up in trouble? sounds like something out of some stupid movie. he thinks you're joking until it actually happens not ones, not twice, but three times in a row.
so it's real. Jimmy's facepalming the entire conversation, like, how in the world can you zone out that hard? scratch that, how can you be so unlucky that you end up in one shit or another every time you're zoning out? "let's put a tracker on you". he actually suggests it, and if you agree he'll install the app on your phone, and everything will be a bit easier. not so hectic. if not, well, he'll just have to count on you telling him when you're in trouble and try to stay with you as much as possible.
he's always up for some trouble. if he's around then he'll be able to detract you from the real trouble, even if part of him is curious how you were able to sniff out some mob meeting or a drug den. he'll laugh about it after he gets your ass away from that shit.
but some suckers who think they're hot shit? useless drunks and junkies and other has-beens who were cool in last decade maybe, but now are simple losers? he'll take care of them gladly. it's especially nice if it's someone he remembers seeing years ago, as his almighty sunbaes from elementary school. it's also a bit sad and it reminds him of the danger of this path - to be broken down, useless, thrown away and forgotten in the end. he always tells himself he's above such fate. this crap cannot touch jimmy bae.
he accepts it as one of your quirks in the end, and a he does besides trying to help you is harmless teasing, and even that is more amazed at your antics then frustrated. he'll ask jack to keep an eye on you from time to time, and he'll often try and do it himself. he'll also make sure to keep in touch, no matter what he feels at the moment. safety first, then you'll sort things out together.
