#foster burden

like, sir (derogatory), what are we doing?

if it wasn't for that bottle of whiskey, i woudn't be so hang up on that, but the bottle is there. next to a used glass.

why are we sitting there waiting for him to wake up? sipping on whiskey and reading a book? reports? who the fuck even knows?.. mr - every minute and every dollar counts - businessman, everyone.

i'm sure there are doctors, nurses, home staff at that place, and yet... god fucking forbid, you're not the first thing he sees after opening his eyes.

anyway, it gets worse! (it always does)

sir (derogatory), he said three words to you. three. calm. down.

jake is so fucking specific with his words: this is your home now; this is a gift, and i hope you'll like it; i like you because what is there not to like about you?

and that's what we call love bombing.

literally went through every trick in the book in under thirty fucking seconds: overwhelming praises, promises, lavish gifts, etc.

there's no room to breathe or think or choose. everything is already done.

i know that i yapped about that eye 3930458 times, but i will do it again because no, jake didn't have to order two surgeries at once. he could've waited for him to recover and then made an offer, let him choose the color etc, etc! he didn't (again, that was a full-on eye transplant, and he organised it all in a day or two, that's insane timing for a surgery this complex).

and, of course, he had a new name at the ready:

...and twenty years later, this is still the name everyone knows moon baek for, even his description tied to it:

+ this callback:

this is literally where the root of 'i'm bringing you a new world' lies: he offers people the same thing that was once offered to him.

credit where credit is due: jake has a bird of prey eye for people. and blue brown was his biggest catch.

and i know that it all can be very easily explained with: they had to condense it all due to the time constraints of a flashback, but i think that no matter how much you'd add, their relationships would always end up like this: fucked up in a very specific way.

me @ my brain: can we have ONE popular ship? just one? look how cool they are! come on! it'll be fun to write! please??????????

my brain @ me: lol, NOPE! have another rarepair with very fucky power dynamics and big-ass age gap!

me: again?

my brain: again!