#I acknowledge maybe I just know way to much about animals that my brain ends up focusing on these small otherwise unimportant details

[dragontamer05]

Look I like Beastars but I will admit for a series that like explores dynamics of Carnivores and Herbivores, coexisting excetera especially in the later arc - especially with Melon- like I see what they were going for and its cool but at the same time like Yahya's whole thing of wanting things clear cut and like what would you call something that has traits of both or whatever,

like Buddy. That is called an Omnivore.

Also just trying to make such a clean line of Herbivore v Carnivore ends up leaving a strange spot of how to categorize animals.

Anteaters may not hunt or need like full on meat but technically they still be eating other animals with insects so lumping them in with herbivores is a strange choice.

More confusing is this choice I noticed of Hippos being put with the carnivores??? Yeah they dangerous mf with bad tempers but they are full on herbivores their stomachs ain't made for meat.

I'm not saying I expect or even some giant societal deep dive on how it works just idk throw in an off hand comment.

An Omniverous animal complaining they are seen the same as Carnivores.

A small carnivore voicing some kind of concern for their own safety. Because you know if one is hungry and the desperate enough a larger Carnivore/Predatore will for sure attack a smaller one

Imagine just a quick side scene of Gohin treating like a Deer, some herbivore who idk maybe they'd been living on the streets/otherwise not eating well so in an act of desperation attacked and killed a small animal (because altho not designed for in worse case scenario and need be some herbivores can and will eat meat when lacking like protein/ something in their diet)

Doesn't need to be a focus just another of his patients you happen to see during one of Legoshi's visits or something.

--

Still think it's weird the choice of making Venom seem like it's some kind of idk acid/ dangerous chemical that even just touching your skin is bad.

Personally I think it would have been interesting if, what if other animals fear of reptiles especially those who are venomous was based on like misinformation.

Every animal of course knows that venom is dangerous and can cause serious damage even kill you but beyond that a lot of animals/ everyday folk perhaps don't understand exactly how it works / assuming it's basically the same as Poison where in sometimes all you have to do is touch it and let it absorb in your skin or ingest it to be harmed. Instead of needing to be injected- and also the fact that Reptiles CAN control their venom (dry bites are a thing)

--

I'd say a flaw with both Beastars and Zootopia (or anything else with like X animals can't get along or whatever) Is the idea that animals are always fighting, eating each other and can never just live together??? Cause like yah sure obviously predators gotta eat, prey gonna get eaten but the vast majority of the time animals just be chilling. As long as everyone keeps to their own space / doesn't do anything to set the other animal(s) off they cool that's just how nature IS.

[wolf-tail]

Even if Rowling wasn't completely off the holocaust denying deep-end, the way she wrote those wizard books kind of pisses me off now that i'm older because they have so much potential to be better than they actually were.

Like, middle school me was eating that shit up for a reason, you don't become one of the most popular authors in the world who created one of the most well-known pieces of literature in the world off of dumb luck. There were things she did right. Unfortunately , now that i'm older I can see everything she did wrong. And my writer's brain mixed with my ego is telling me that I could make it better.

Implant a heavier theme of the wizarding world's patronizing bullshit and entitlement. Like seriously, the complete unwarranted superiority complex that these chuckle fucks have is obnoxious beyond belief. Even middle school me knew that there was no good reason to keep magic away from the people they made up a slur for. Maybe that should have been the main theme of the books.

Seriously, it ties in so well with the evil wizard supremacy sublot. The solution to systemic discrimination is not to get rid of bigoted people. It's to tear down those systems entirely. The wizarding world seriously needs a status quo shake up.

Revamp the house elves or just cut them out entirely. Just don't fucking justify slavery. IT'S NOT THAT HARD!!!

Maybe this is lefist brain talking but do not make Harry grow up to be a fucking magic cop. In fact, I would have had made the Aurors be unbelievably awful and corrupt, just like a real cops!

Give the characters of color less racist names.

Stop describing your female villains as "mannish"

The greedy goblin banker theme is one of the most disgustingly antisemetic things i've ever had the displeasure of putting up with. What the fuck is wrong with you Joanne!? I would just cut that shit out.

The violent fatphobia grosses me out so much. When I was little I wanted Dudley to get a PROPER redemption arc so bad and not be abused for his weight. In fact , if I were Rowling, I would have added in a sublot about Dudley discovering his own magic to and having to unlearn the shit his parents taught him, as well as deal with their painful rejection of him. That would've been really cool.

Apparently lycanthropy was supposed to be a metaphor for HIV??? Ew, Joanne. No. It's like she never talked to a gay man in her life.

The "love" potions piss me off SO BAD. Voldemort's mother was not in love. She was a rapist. I would change that up entirely.

Snape is not a hero. He was an incel in a hate group. Acknowledge him as such and don't have Harry name his fucking kid after him.

Hey, quick question, why does the school have a blood supremacist house???? Why was this allowed??? Why did she write Slytherin to just be openly discriminatory towards mixed blood kids????

Whatever the dad Weasely's name is, I would have played off his whole "weeb for nonmagical people" thing as more patronizing and accidentally insensitive than endearing. He reminds me of white moms who say konichiwa to the waiter at Chinese restaurants and think they're "cultured".

For the love of god, treat the female characters other than Hermione with an OUNCE of respect.

Now that I know more about animal welfare and the exotic pet industry, Hagrid kinda gets on my nerves. I would add a sublot about him learning to respect the boundaries of wild animals.

I can't think of anything else that ticks me off about the books right now but I will come back to this if I do.

[va1kyr14]

Right, I have time to sit down and really digest what happened yesterday so here goes. This is mainly going to be about Caitvi but will contain others.

Be warned if you haven't watched it!

So firstly what a fucking ride.

The animation, the story and what they have done is absolutely incredible and have set the bench mark for future studios because my tiny brain is blown.

But diving into the things that I thought could have been better, like a lot of people have said, the pacing seemed off when they nailed it in S1. And yes I did wait until everything was released to share my thoughts. We probably got even more Caitvi content than S1, but with everything going on everywhere and it being a faster paced in regards to action, It did seem like the relationship from S1 to the end was just a bit off. Not saying it wasn't incredible, it was, but I think there were things that didn't add to the story much which could have been replaced with other character progression.

Having said that, I watched all of S1 all in one go when it came out, and I think that if we did the same with S2 and one straight after the other, I don't think we would be necessarily seeing it as much. Just my thoughts.

We didn't get an Caitlyn apology only an acknowledgement apart from when she was speaking to Jinx and an angry Vi separately. We could argue that the way she spoke to Vi before the spice was her was of apologising but I don't know I really would have liked a better explanation.

I did love the two sides of one coin but not the fact that you can't have a universe where both sisters live. That broke my heart but understand it. I also do think Jinx survived, and got out the vents and went off in the blimp at the end. I think Cait knew too, being her smart self but knew that Vi would go after her if she knew. That was a sweet scene at the end - even though not a fan of pirate Cait as I said in a previous post. I hope if they do something in the future she has like a fake eye or something I would prefer that over a patch.

Now moving onto the SEX SCENE....

Holy fucking shit. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that. The animation, the fucking intimacy the likes I have never seen, it was perfect. I do think the setting was a bit weird but when you have all the pent up frustrations and lets be honest they are dramatic lesbians, Its going to happen. I would have liked to have seen it maybe in Cait's bed if anywhere but the urgency mixed with gentleness and all the little micro actions.

The PULL IN AFTER THE UNDOING OF THE BUCKLE.

I can't. Like I am speechless.

It was everything I hoped from a first time, from the giggles to everything else and just every tiny action jesus these animators are something else. I am not ashamed for Netflix to watch the algorithm and see I have watched that same 2 minutes for about 9 hours straight.

It has broken boundaries, not just for queer representation, the fact that neither of them died and got a happy ending in something like Arcane is remarkable, but in regards to animation of a sex scene a lesbian one at that, I think the benchmark has now been set and it will be known as this generations' Korrasami. This is will go down in history and I am not even being dramatic.

Anyway that was more of a ramble than an in depth post, and I have no idea what to do with myself now. We have AO3 and fanart and I guess we will have a bit more content until the end of the month with promotion but I guess when you have a hyperfixation you aren't ready to say goodbye. So I raised a glass to all the content creators who are now going to carry on the mantle. I will be reading and liking everything I can, I salute you.

To summarise, the series could have been better IMO but thats what happens when expectations are so high, there was none of that in series 1 and it was perfect in my eyes. You can't please everyone, but I think Arcane as an overall package is wonderful and Caitvi will live on in my heart and others which have created a benchmark for queer content and I am so proud of everyone involved.

And to all the fellow queers out there...

We did it, we won.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 144 thoughts!

I don't think any other chapter of Oshi no Ko has ever baffled and confounded me quite like this one. Viewed solely in isolation this is a perfectly fine, functional chapter but as the followup to 143 and everything it contained, I actually feel like I'm losing my mind a bit. 143 might as well not have happened for all the weight it's given in this chapter. Ruby is not remotely acting like a girl who just tongued her crush of 18 years and in general, the total absence of any reference or cushioning of the shock of that event is just so loud and so jarring and so completely out of touch with how OnK has handled romantic developments in the past.

Both AquAka kisses had at least a scene or two in the chapter immediately following of characters reacting to and reflecting on both the event itself and the status quo change it represents in the relationship. Even 124 has that scene of Ruby clinging onto Aqua to let the viewer know what the new dynamic between them is going to be from now on. This chapter has nothing of the sort; I wasn't kidding when it says it feels like the kiss never even happened. The only thing I can point to is Ruby's little "we have sensei at home" exchange with Tsukuyomi but that's… kind of just exactly what she would've said even before the kiss. So if it has resulted in absolutely no change to their dynamic that we can see thus far, what was the point in ending the chapter on that note?

The part of me that is cynical and jaded can't help but suspect that this is intentionally hot button reaction bait paced specifically for the purposes of keeping OnK a trendy topic in the lead up to season 2 of the anime airing, But Who's To Say, Really.

I also had my worries about this last chapter, but unless we skip back in time to address it, it really looks like we've skipped over the remainder of the KamiAi romance and everything to do with the early stages of Ai's pregnancy. This is incredibly frustrating to me - they're parts of Ai's story I had been incredibly curious about and was excited to see her thoughts and feelings on, even filtered through fiction. In general, the way the Movie Arc has been increasingly dropping its focus on actually conveying Ai's story has been a real sore point for me. I fully acknowledge this rankles me more than perhaps it should because I am so deeply invested in Ai above any other character but… fuck, man! Once again, remember when this was supposed to be an arc about her? About her inner life, her pain and struggles and Aqua and Ruby working to a better understanding of her? I was excited for the Movie Arc specifically because I thought we were going to get peeks at parts of Ai's life we weren't privy to beforehand, but at this point it almost feels like Akasaka has just lost interest in following through.

Not only that but… uh, where's that KamiAi breakup scene, Akasaka? The one we were promised during the script reading? That huge I CAN'T LOVE YOU elephant that's been patiently sitting in the room? I can only assume that the 15YL version of this breakup happens after the twins are born or maybe even when Kamiki visited Ai at the hospital the night the kids were born but. What the fuck is even going on here anymore lol. The Oshi no Brainrot discord has been kicking around a joke theory that we were seeing the events of the Movie Arc out of their actual chronological order and it is becoming increasingly less of a joke in my brain because I can't make any sense of its progression otherwise.

oh my god i'm almost 1000 words in and i haven't started talking about the actual point of this chapter yet. god help me.

Anyway, MY SON IS HERE LET'S GO MELT!!!!!!

Ngl, I've always been a little disappointed that we didn't see much more of Melt in this arc, both just because I like him and because I think there's some really interesting potential in drawing on the parallels between Melt and Kamiki. I'm not the first to point out that Melt's experience with a dubiously consensual sexual encounter at the hands of an upperclassman - when he wasn't that much older than Hikaru was when Airi began abusing him - echoes at least in spirit Kamiki's experiences as a CSA victim; both were young boys, noted to be pretty and desirable, who were taken advantage of by older female figures. I think it would be extremely interesting and a great character moment for Melt to have some degree of engagement with that material and maybe to have some thoughts about it. It feels like a little bit of a missed opportunity to pass up on that, but I also acknowledge that Melt is ultimately not a huge mover and shaker in the overall story and I don't know how that would've fit into the Movie Arc as it stands, so I'll just have to make eyes at the AO3 tag and hope someone writes a fic about it.

Anyway as a lot of people predicted… here's Ruby being a jackass to Melt about his performance!!! Joking aside, I will admit it's a little jarring to see Ruby being so hostile to Melt over this…? Gorou is a sore spot for her, obviously and she would undoubtedly have high standards for his role in the movie. In addition, Ruby being snitty with people who rub her the wrong way definitely isn't new for her, but it still feels kind of odd both coming off her own struggles to connect with Ai through acting and her little "holy shit other people have feelings" breakthrough in the wake of the RBKN fight for her to be like this about it. I do think this is mostly just supposed to be just goofs and I'm overthinking it, it was just one of those things that kind of gave me pause as I was reading.

ruby's little little princess shirt is really good though, as is her referring to herself as a fan of the 'original work'. both of those got a solid sensible chuckle out of me.

Another thing that gave me pause for a very different reason was Melt and Ruby's exchange about his little merch pin. First and foremost, I think this is a really good Melt moment; while we saw him busting his ass to improve his acting in Tokyo Blade, that was very much when he had something to prove. Here, he really does seem to be going above and beyond for what is basically a bit part purely out of a desire to improve his craft and a passion for acting overall. It's nice to see the story double down in this being a lesson he did properly take away from Sweet Today and that he has committed to acting upon it (no pun intended) in the long term, not just when under outside pressure to do so.

The other thing that jumped out to me about this exchange is that… technically speaking, both Ruby and Melt are wrong, here? It's a very nice, flowery description of Gorou and it certainly lines up with his more positive traits but the idea of him not wearing his Ai merch in front of Ai herself is actually incorrect. Gorou is depicted (in the anime, anyway) as openly wearing the charm at what's implied to be all times, even in front of Ai herself. The manga also implies by way of where the charm is on his person when Ruby finds his body that this is also the case in that version of events, too. I don't think it's a retcon and may be an unimportant detail in the grand scheme of things but it did pique my interest.

There's a few ways to take this, I think; a more positive spin is that this is in line with what the story wants us to take away from 15 Year Lie as a production, where the literal granular facts of its events are sometimes less important than and can be bent in favour of supporting the emotional narrative it wants to convey. Melt may not literally be correct here, but he at least achieves the spirit of the right answer in his efforts. "Lies are love", after all.

However, given that Ruby enthusiastically endorses this interpretation - and is thus wrong alongside Melt - this could potentially be an indication of there being cracks in Ruby's rose-tinted view of Gorou. This strikes me as a fascinating idea and one I hope the series plays with; it would follow quite naturally from last chapter's framing of Gorou as Ruby's 'idol' that she's 'gachikoi' for. Oshi no Ko has pretty consistently portrayed the idol/fan relationship as inherently unequal, even when approached with the best of intentions and to truly know someone, you must let them off their pedestal first. She has sort of begun this process with Ai, just through empathizing with her during the 15YL production but we have yet to see anything similar happen with Gorou - if anything, we see the opposite here, where she asserts herself as the authority on Gorou's character as if she has the final say on who he was and what he felt and thought.

But the thing is, how well can Ruby really say that she knew him? They were only in each others' lives for a few months and in that time, she was only exposed to a very narrow slice of his life and his personality. Hell, you could even argue that Akane knows more about Gorou than Ruby does, given that we have no indication that Ruby or Sarina was ever privy to the details of his birth and his home life. Again, it's entirely possible that I'm reading too much into this, but now the idea is in my brain I'm simmering on it a bit. If nothing else, I hope the series takes the time to prod and poke at this angle, especially now it has made the fan/idol aspect of this dynamic explicit and textual.

Ruby and Melt's little senpai/kouhai dynamic has the potential to be really cute and I do hope the series actually spends some time on it. I've always thought a RBML friendship could be really fun to watch play out and seeing Melt gain some confidence in himself by teaching someone else could be really great. But with how unfocused the Movie Arc has been, it's really hard to get my hopes up that we'll be sticking with this even past this chapter lol

oh hey there crow girl we thought you were dead

Surprisingly, I don't have a lot to really say about her little lore drop here, since it's mostly mystery boxing and implications and, man. It's been 69 (nice) chapters since she first started showing up ominously muttering about supernatural things and while I don't mind her presence and I think she's evolved into a fun character, it's a little hard for me to get interested in these little supernatural tidbits until they resolve into something that feels meaningful for the characters.

This isn't helped by the fact that we don't really know what kami means in the context she uses it here. While 'god' and 'gods' are not strictly incorrect as translations, I think an English speaking viewer is primed to think of Abrahamic, capital G-Gods, which isn't necessarily correct. The term kami is a catchall that covers all manner of things from divinities to venerated earthbound humans, so kami can perhaps best be understood as being an umbrella term for something like 'an otherworldly being', which I think better lines up with Tsukuyomi's assertion that those who have memories of past lives are like kami in of themselves.

Ultimately though until we know what kami really means and amounts to in Oshi no Ko, it's hard to say what this means for the characters and I am ultimately only really interested in the characters. So until we know what this actually amounts to in-story, I'm just kind of nodding long with whatever Crow Girl says because sure. This might as well happen.

can we talk about how fucking funny her anime antagonist jump out of the tree was, by the way

break next week, or so i've heard... one of these days, we'll beat the allegations....

[tamelee]

Just a little rant about HOW MUCH I FUCKING HATE NARUTO FANBOYS OH MY GAAWWWDDDD besides the obvious reasons (homophobia, misogyny, incels) they worship the shit outta the worse characters ever like Shikamaru and Itachi and Hinata. Like I just saw on the Naruto Reddit (my fault, I know, but I searched something up about Naruto and the first link discussing that was Reddit) and they all used that stupid dumbass filler where Shikamaru was asking his dad about Naruto and why everyone hates him and how he doesn't hate him (even tho in CANON he did 😤) and they all said not only is he a better friend to Naruto than Sasuke ever was but (here we go again) Sasuke's more of a brother 🙄 and they also said Sasuke treated Naruto like trash and was the worst friend 🤦🏻‍♀️ like it's so insane to me the dudebros lack of brain and reading comprehension. Like how do you as a grown ass man not know the difference between what's actually real and what's not about what you're watching? Or maybe it's that they just hate Sasuke so much and how much Naruto loves him and keeps talking about him and how he's his best friend in canon (he said it way too much for me to believe that even these ugly incels couldn't understand) that they'd rather give the credit to someone else that isn't a threat and doesn't make Naruto act borderline homosexual. Oh and they obviously ignore Shikamaru's blatant misogyny and still consider him the best thing ever because why would they care 🙄 anyway end rant, sorry. I just hate this fandom 😭 I stay on my side of things mostly (well, other than this one time. But when I do I just rant about it to someone and move on)

Ah yeah it’s frustrating isn’t it? 

I think it’s obvious if you’ve read the Manga. I wonder if they’ve only seen the Anime and just don’t bother checking what is canon first. So much is changed from Kishimoto’s original. (Has anyone seen that twt discussion on filler? I’d love to read your opinions on it.) 

I mean, Hinata’s supposed backstory with Naruto is just ridiculous, but I don’t understand why people think Naruto was friends with any of them? Even if it’s shown in filler that Naruto was around them or they asked their parents about Naruto... what makes fans say they were friends? 

Sasuke was the only one who acknowledged Naruto with a smile and they weren't even friends until much later.

Right before the exams, Shikamaru tells team 7 not to die. Not because he’s worried for them, but because he believes they’re not capable, largely because of his lack of faith in Naruto. While Naruto calls them idiots and insults both Shikamaru and Hinata as he introduces them to the reader. 

'A big mouth idiot' and a 'weirdo' (I believe he actually also called her creepy but I can't find the translation, but remember when Kushina told Naruto not to go for a weird girl? She used the same words xD) And then Shikamaru immediately wanted to target Naruto in the forest of death.

Had either of them at any point been friendly to Naruto or whatever, then we would’ve known here and Naruto wouldn’t have insulted them like he did (as is his right) because he craved a connection more than anything. It’s ridiculous how the Anime at times just blatantly ignores the lonely misery Naruto had to grow up in (ALONE) in favor of these other characters. As if sugarcoating that would make any of them look less bad. And don't get me started on Hinata during that written test because it's no wonder Naruto got so confused and didn't trust her "kindness".

Regardless, I think a lot of Naruto-fans who tend to glorify any of these friendships and extending it for what it is largely do so because they side with a narrative regarding the system and don't get why Sasuke (and others) challenged it in the first place. Brushing it off like it was some evil, selfish thing. I personally like Shikamaru's development and who he is as a character in the end because him showing change might've been very helpful in actually changing the system had they worked towards that. But you know... we'll never know.

[mall0w-rambles]

rambling AGAIN about mm!/tottmnt donnie (ep 10)

ok finally got to rewatch ep 10. definitely not a perfect episode now that i think about it, but i still like it. @lordchinnychin asked for my thoughts (tysm i appreciate it btw) so here we goooo

TOTTMNT EP 10 SPOILER ONWARDS‼️

at the start of the ep, donnie is already a little dismissive of wingnut's paranoia and doesn't take it too seriously. but donnie doesn't go too far. in fact, even at this point, he visibly wants to comfort wingnut. offering her food, giving suggestions, but he's definitely not directly talking to her about the problem just yet.

during the scene where they were surrounded by the alligator, wingnut started to panic even worse. however, donnie's responses were a bit harsher, which you can't fully blame him since he was starting to get stressed out.

also idk where to insert this, but i lowkey love the aussie jokes lol. and i kinda love that donnie still makes them even when they're literally surrounded by a wild animal. humor is one of his coping mechanisms, i guess.

at some point, both of them reach their limits to the point that wingnut even says that she would rather be a unmutated bat again. that statement seems to really hit donnie, possibly because he probably has the same thought too sometimes. i wouldn't be surprised if all the turtles had that insecurity at some point.

so that statement finally made donnie stop for a moment and just talk to wingnut head-on. he finally starts by acknowledging her feelings first. and i really like that he straight up admits he's not good when it comes to feelings. but when that isn't working out, donnie tries a different approach and tries to connect with wingnut through their shared interests.

honestly, the references already feel outdated, but i really do like the idea of the scene. sure, donnie isn't the best at connecting with feelings, but i really love that he still makes an effort to connect with her through his own donnie way; in a way that both of them understand and share because of their bond.

the moment they got surrounded by the alligator again, donnie tries a different approach to get through "demutated leatherhead." specifically, he does what he thinks his brothers would do in his position. but, erm, that doesn't work out. honestly, yeah it's very dumb for donnie to try to talk to a literal alligator lol. but the scene also pretty much signifies that donnie trying to act and think like someone else isn't the best answer.

also very interesting that the first time we see donnie visibly really REALLY panic in this episode is when he fell into the water and almost drowned. throughout the episode, he's been taking things pretty well, especially for a teenager. and he isn't even the older one between him and wingnut! but it's him who had to take charge. sometimes, he's probably the anchor for his brothers too.

of course in this children's cartoon, they solve the problem by working together and being yourself. the end hooray 🎉

but something that really really bothers me is whenever donnie mentions throughout the episode that he's "left-brained." So who's gonna tell him that being more left or right brained is just a myth? lol. it's been debunked years ago that your brain doesn't have a part that's more dominant.

but even with the inaccuracy, maybe that's intentional? cause i can't just believe it that a smart person like donnie wouldn't know the truth lol.

maybe donnie saying he's left brained more so pertains to the fact that he doesn't believe that he's also more right brained and more empathetic than he realizes. maybe because he's been labeled as the smart one for so long that he isn't exactly comfortable with that position. it's because of the label that it makes him think that he SHOULD ONLY be logical. what if he's purposefully limiting himself? when, in reality, he's a lot more emotional than he realizes. he just happens to be a bit more emotionally intelligent than his brothers. but i guess one of them just has to step up.

man, being the youngest (i think) but also the most mature might be the thing that fucks up the way he views himself. they assume donnie is the smart one, so they expect him to be the smart one all the time for every situation. and that takes quite a toll on donnie, so he tries to convince himself that he is only logical. my god, let this boy breathe!! i'm sure the others don't intentionally pressure donnie of course, but it still affects him nonetheless.

ok, so if ever tottmnt ever gets another season, i would love for a donnie episode where he starts to feel more confident about himself. not just confident about his smarts alone, but also his interests. i'm just realizing this as i write this, but they didn't mention donnie's interests that much in the show compared to the movie. well, i wanna hear about them again!! i wanna see him have fun and be happy!! i want donnie to realize he's not just the smart one, or that his worth is based on his intelligence, strength, or anything else. donnie is awesome for simply being donnie, and that's completely enough.

[blackjackkent]

OK. Some of the slightly less consequential Act 2 ending conversations now. Rakha has a lot fewer people in the Moonrise lobby than Hector did since pretty much all the tieflings are dead and Halsin has not shown up. (I'm assuming Halsin is missing for the same reason that he doesn't get his own tent in camp anymore, because the game didn't account for the possibility of him and Minthara both being around at once.)

The biggest remaining convo is probably Aylin and Isobel, but the one most immediately drawing Rakha's attention is Withers, who is being unusually vocal, plus she's surprised he's even here.

Rakha still doesn't really like Withers - he's mysterious, which pisses her off, and also takes no damage when she gets violent with him, which pisses the beast off. He did win back a few points with her by bringing her back from the dead after the Lathandrian monastery exploded, though.

So she gives him a sort of noncommittal grunt and waits to see what he has to say.

"Thy hunger denied. Selune's faithful yet shines. The balance shifts."

Rakha's head snaps up and suddenly she is playing much closer attention. Thy hunger.

Withers has shown little or no interest in the internal struggles that have plagued Rakha in the time they've traveled together. He keeps to himself; she never sees him unless they're camping, but he is always just... there, taking up space in a quiet corner, unable to be dislodged but not interacting with anyone unless he is spoken to first.

He has never said anything to her about her murderous tendencies. He only acknowledged Alfira once, in refusing to bring her back, and he seemed utterly unphased by the terrible night just recently where she practically turned into a howling animal. He has seemed utterly disconnected from all of it - until now.

"Thou hast seen with thine own eyes, and felt in thine Urges - the Dead Three unite. There are depths to this alliance yet unplumbed. Consider, mortal - do illithids possess souls?"

Rakha blinks, then scowls.

She wants to know what he meant by that first part. Her Urges connect in some way to the Dead Three, these gods that stand behind the Absolutist cult. It is not simply her nature, but something directly connected to her presence at Moonrise in the memories she's lost.

But of course he does not explain or elaborate, but instead mocks her with a question she cannot answer.

"Forget that," she says curtly. "What are you doing here, Withers?"

"Where matters of balance are concerned, I am eternally called," he says placidly, unbothered as always by her irritation. "I shall ask yet again. Do illithids possess souls?"

She breathes out sharply through her nose, briefly debating the viability of delivering her dagger straight between his eyes. It wouldn't have any impact on him, but it might make her feel minutely better.

But she sets her jaw and resists the urge yet again. He is being very insistent about this, and she must admit to a flash of curiosity through her exhaustion. "I don't know," she says after a long pause. "Don't all living things?" Such is her extremely limited knowledge, at least. Metaphysical questions haven't been a common camp topic of conversation.

"No," Withers says flatly. "Nor canst thou count mind flayers among them. Yet the Three amass an illithid army, void of apostolic souls that could imbue them with power." His eyes narrow to slits, focusing on Rakha with more attention than she has yet seen from him. "A flock without souls. Yet to what end, O tempted one? This is the question thou must come to answer. Until that time - be availed of my services."

(A/N: I'm wracking my brains and I can't remember if Hector was ever actually provided an answer to this question. :O Was this a plot thread that got dropped or did I miss something? I don't think we ever really learned a ton about the Three's motivations for fucking the world up. Maybe this is something we learn more about in Durge land.)

Rakha stares at him, baffled. It takes her a moment to parse through what he's saying. Gods, then, are powered by the souls of those who follow them. These gods, however, are converting people to mind flayers - and making them soulless.

Why?

And why do *I* need to answer? There was something unsettlingly specific in the way he said that.

"You know of these Urges," she says hoarsely. "What can you tell me?"

Withers looks back at her, steady and unreadable. "Nothing thou dost not already know."

A lie, she's almost certain of it, and her scowl deepens. She wishes she could take him by the throat and squeeze and shake until the answers he hoards fall out of him... but it would get her nowhere and only anger the beast in her head.

"You seem to know a lot about the Dead Three," she says instead, between her teeth.

"Yes," he answers. "Bane, Lord of Darkness. Bhaal, Lord of Murder. Myrkul, Lord of Bones. Once judged, ascended, then vanquished - as one, and as three."

Again his eyes narrow. Again that sudden, uncharacteristic intensity as he speaks words that make no sense at all. "The alliance is reforged, mortal. The planes thus quake, and the gods shudder."

[soulerflaire]

Binged all of the last season of Star Trek: Discovery today. Thoughts under the cut.

Very mixed feelings on it. On the one hand, I'm glad they were able to go into the season knowing it would be the last, and write an actual send off to the show instead of rushing some half-assed ending in two episodes, or just cutting off completely with no ending at all. On the other hand, I have a lot of complaints about how things went.

First off, the Progenitors storyline did not interest me in the slightest. I was fine with their tech being the macguffin to drive the plot forward, but once we actually got to it, I just didn't really care about the fancy facility or the Progenitor lady in it. It was obvious Michael was going to either hide it again or destroy it, so all the time spent with her deciding that and learning about the Progenitors' motivations or that they didn't build the tech either was just wasted to me.

I was completely baffled by Dr. Culber's character arc this season. I don't really understand what they were trying to do or say with it. He has a weird experience with a temporary personality transplant, and it affects him deeply but he doesn't understand why or how. People tell him it was clearly a spiritual awakening for him, but they never explain that. Maybe it's because I'm not a spiritual person, but "feeling weird about the world after having your brain taken over by someone else for a few hours" doesn't equal spiritual awakening to me. Regardless, he just becomes kind of weirdly serene for the rest of the show. And then at the last second, when they have the chance to actually make it something spiritual, they provide a rational (for Star Trek, anyway) explanation for all of it, by saying he somehow had access to residual memories from the other personality. But he doesn't acknowledge it as a rational explanation, he still acts like it's some mysterious spiritual thing. I don't know. I just didn't get it. It felt like they were trying to say something about "not everything has a rational explanation" but they didn't follow through, so I really just don't understand what the point of his character arc was. Were they just trying to give him mental/emotional peace after all he's experienced? 'Cause doing it this way was completely unsatisfying if so. This was a magic button fixing his trauma, not actual healing.

But my biggest gripe is the treatment of Zora. This whole season, I was thinking "Man, Zora isn't really in this show at all anymore, is she?" She does nothing beyond acting like the computer, and the crew pretty much just treats her like a normal starship computer. We spent a lot of time previously focusing on Zora and her development as a person, only to have her barely exist as a character this season. And in the last 15 minutes of the finale, we find out why: that damned animated short. A while back, someone wrote an animated short where the Discovery (and thus Zora) has basically been abandoned in a nebula, and a guy ends up on board, and Zora falls in love with him (because he's the only person she's talked to in decades/centuries), but eventually he leaves because he has a family. And god forbid that stupid little short not be canon, so what do we do? We order Zora to go sit in a nebula, alone, while everyone she has ever known, her entire family, grows old and dies without her. Where? Classified. How long? Classified. Why? Classified.

That is an unimaginably cruel thing to do to a person. Which is why we didn't treat her like a person this season, in the hopes that everyone would forget all that stuff and go "Oh, yeah, I remember the animated short!" and clap. And the worst part is they didn't even bother to make up a reason! They couldn't even do a "Michael told her to stay there during a mission, and things got messy and they lost track of her, and now they're searching for her" thing. We get no explanation at all, Michael literally just tells Zora that her clearance level isn't high enough for her to know why she's being put through hell. And of course because we've decided Zora isn't a person, since that would get ethically messy, Zora just accepts that and does what she's told. For my own personal happiness, I am just pretending that was a nightmare Zora had and it never actually happened.

The season wasn't all bad, though. I enjoyed Saru and T'Rina's interactions. I think Tara Rosling did an excellent job with all of T'Rina's little mannerisms, especially the slightly stuttering head turn she does when something is bothering her. That combined with Doug Jones' acting with Saru really helped create the chemistry between their characters. I also liked seeing a relationship where both people were mature, reasonable adults who talk things out instead of blowing up at each other or almost breaking up at every minor disagreement. Also I loved seeing Tilly pretty much all the time. I desperately hope that we'll see her in other shows, she's such a great character.

I think I would have really liked Rayner's character arc and growth...if it had happened slowly over the course of a couple seasons. It definitely felt rushed, and his place among the crew didn't really feel earned to me by the end. I liked the parallel between him with the Breen and Michael with the Klingons, though I would have liked to see Michael acknowledge that more in the moment, rather than after the fact. I'm chalking that all up to rushing to get it into one season and just not having the time to flesh it out properly.

Also there were several plot holes and things that just didn't add up, but I don't feel like nitpicking those right now. It's Star Trek, you're gonna get stuff like that.

Definitely not Discovery's strongest season, and pretty bummed to see it end like this. Overall a good show, just has a weak finish.

And Zora definitely wasn't abandoned in a nebula for centuries for no reason, and instead was granted full personhood and made a member of Starfleet, and I refuse to acknowledge anything to the contrary.

[dogyip]

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS — ; another little excerpt featuring judd & yvonne in high school — 950 words

Yvonne propped herself up on an elbow frighteningly fast, on the verge of falling off the couch with how she leaned over the edge to close the distance between them despite another foot lingering there. “You’re not being serious, are you?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“You’re talking about Julian like he’s worth the time of day.”

“Well, isn’t he?”

“Not as a boyfriend,” she said, finally sitting up a little straighter, and looking Judd square in the eye, voice adopting a grit of seriousness to it. “Especially not as your boyfriend.”

Judd swallowed strangely. Of course, she’d think that. Of course, she’d think this was some sort of momentary comedy and all for her own fucking entertainment! God, they should’ve gone to her own house so that she would have every right to kick Yvonne out. “I see how it is. Now that you’re not dating anyone, you have to try to stake some claim on the only boys in school who don’t immediately invoke disgust,” she barked it. “Okay, Julian showed interest in me and now you just have to cope with it.”

She wished this didn’t suddenly tear from her that throat-raw feeling and internal wincing she always got when talking about boys. She didn’t want to be questioned. She didn’t want to talk about it at all. All she wanted to do was say that they were having a date so that Yvonne would know of the fact that someone liked her but, now, as she sat here staring at the other, Judd felt nothing more than painfully aware that she had to seek Julian out, that it was her finding a way to cross his path every day until he finally acknowledged her. Did Yvonne know? Could she tell?

God, she needed to vomit.

“I’m leaving,” Judd told her in finality, thumping shut her book and hurriedly shoving herself to her knees so that she could start putting the other books in her backpack. “You can try to decipher your god-awful notes yourself. Maybe that’ll actually teach you to write in a manner understandable to anyone with more than two brain cells backfiring in front of each other.”

“Judd, don’t do that. I’m not trying to argue with you.”

“Oh, you’re more than fine arguing with me until I resign, try not to be so transparent,” she said, acidity dripping from her voice and clinging to each word, her heart thump, thump, thumping at the back of her throat. “Translators get paid, did you know that? Maybe the next time I decide to speak to you, we can discuss the fee you can expect to owe for tonight and every night before this.”

Yvonne sighed, sitting up all the way just so she could push herself to her feet and walk over to Judd and sit on the floor beside her ever so slowly as if she was approaching some sort of animal worth the hesitancy in action. She used her knees pressed to her chest as a place to rest her arms and her arms acted as the place she rested her chin, eyes traveling with the clumsy packing Judd tried to make move faster to no avail. “If you have plans for what we’ll talk about next then you can let me talk about what I want to right now,” she told her. “I wasn’t trying to argue with you, I just… I dunno, it caught me off guard.”

“What caught you off guard?” Judd whirled on her quickly, nails digging into the hardback cover of one of her books. “The idea that a boy could actually like me?”

“Not that, I’m not surprised about that.”

“Don’t condescend me, you owe me that much.”

Her lips pursed in a bit of a pout. “Julian just doesn’t seem your type. I mean, he’s a jerk for one, he doesn’t care about school in the slightest, you had to do that last project with him all on your own because he didn’t answer your calls, he—”

Judd cut her off with a scoff. “Does it matter?” Yvonne blinked. “Well, does it? His family is well-respected, my father does business with his father, he’s on the path to attending Harvard because three generations of alumni in his family tree almost guarantee his acceptance,” she said. “And, objectively speaking, he has pleasant looks. Plus his father’s in his sixties and he’s not even balding, I’m assuming those genetics passed down, which is a bonus.”

A quiet sort of shock fell over Yvonne, a frown shaping her lips miserably. “Is that why you agreed to go on a date with him? Because his family knows yours? Because he might go to Harvard?”

“No, I said all those things because they were fun facts you just had to know.”

“Those aren’t any reasons to date anyone,” she admitted. “Let alone date Julian.”

Judd spared a glance at her, grip loosening on the book that left dark green flakes beneath her nails. “What constitutes a fair reason to date someone then?”

“You actually liking them is the bare minimum for a reason I’d have to say.”

“Well, that helps me a fuck ton considering I don’t like any of the boys in this school,” she said, returning to packing her bag. “How do you like boys?”

Yvonne looked chuffed, grinning as she shrugged. “I dunno, I just do, never had to think about it… maybe you’ve just not met the right one, you know, the one who doesn’t make you think about how you’ll try to like him,” she let her gaze wander to Judd's who was focusing all painfully intent on her. “You just do.”

Something twinged in Judd’s chest.

She never just did anything. 

Except with Yvonne.

[yzafre]

Trying to wrap my head around my thoughts re: 2012 and Rise, and how they hit my brain, and it’s like...

The things I think these two series are missing/needed to improve on are what the other series did really well?  Like, each show would be enhanced by borrowing from the other (an impossibility in one direction due to the linear nature of time, but you get me).

And now I'm going to post about it to hopefully trick my brain into thinking I talked to someone about it so that maybe it'll let me think about anything else.

Uhhh putting a read more because this is mostly just a brain-dump ramble to free my mind from the topic-loop and it got.  Long.

Okay, exposing my biases ahead of time: while I very much enjoyed both series, I will admit that Rise appeals more to my personal taste.  I do also like 2012!  I liked it a lot, it’s just that, you know, I’m easily drawn in by cool 2d animation and anime bullshit, and also Rise’s humor matches mine better, which means it's the one I’m more likely to re-watch.  However, that doesn't mean I think Rise is perfect.

Also, for the sake of this rant, we’re going to be ignoring the circumstances surrounding production.  Yes, yes, we all know the executives specifically asked for Rise to have a much lighter tone, and that it got cut really short, and that affected how things panned out – but I don’t know enough about 12’s production to compare them fairly on that front.  So.

MOVING ON FROM THAT.

Let’s start with ROTTMNT.  I love Rise, love a good shenanigan, but... can you really deny that it would have been nice to have a more even split between pure shenanigans and more serious episodes?  Even just getting closer to 50/50?

Don’t get me wrong, the shenanigans absolutely have their place and actually contribute to what I like about Rise’s writing (which I will talk about in the 12 section), but the overwhelming amount of them really messes with the pace of the show overall, and with the escalation of tension.

Obviously, you can’t have every episode have the spectacle of an episode like, say Many Unhappy Returns, I'm pretty sure animating that shit's expensive, and early on it’s not like they really know what they’re slowly being dragged into, but... post Shadow of Evil, you’d kind of like them to acknowledge the stakes more, right?  And even before the turtles themselves know, you’d like the slow build that only the audience is getting to be a bit more consistent, right?

You’d like the weaving together of the plot and character arcs episode-to-episode to just be a bit more well-thought out... wouldn’t you?

And that is what TMNT 12 is good at.

I personally think 12 peaked in season 2 (I was so engaged with that season, the buildup was phenomenal), but throughout the entire series it is obvious just how much effort they are putting into developing these interweaving plots, and it pays off.  Every episode is a self-contained story, true, but even from season 1 you can see how even the most one-off episode is putting at least one thing into the Rube Goldberg machine that’s going to go off at the end of the season.  It honestly impressed me how they balanced “you can watch any episode on its own because tv has re-runs" and “every episode leads into the next until everything blows up”.

The end of season 2, when the tension they've been ratcheting up inch by inch nearly every episode finally releases, and all the dominoes start falling and danger is coming from every direction? Mwah. Stellar. Like, devastating cliff-hanger of an ending, but also the satisfaction of seeing it all fall apart? It's gripping.

Also, they acknowledge the stakes.  12 is obviously going for a much more serious tone, and covers some heavier topics like revenge, obsession, healing, ect (in a kind of surface level way for young kids, yes, but this is a nickelodeon toy-selling series.  Genre and intended audience matters).  I may not always agree with the answers they come to, but they are trying!  As opposed to Rise where the enemies feel... kind of out-of-sight, out-of-mind, in 12 the Shredder, and occasionally the Kraang, are a constant threat that they are always aware of.

While the setup is different (12!Shredder wants them dead specifically, whereas the Rise boys don’t really know what the Shredder will want other than mass destruction when the armor is complete), you kind of feel like the danger could have maybe been a little more acknowledged in Rise.

And like... the move into season 2 had them getting the Shredder armor "contained", which they used to go so far backwards on stakes which is... I mean, there were other choices they could have made.

You can argue that many shows reset the stakes when you beat the season boss at the end, but... Rise specifically went straight back to "straight shenanigans with little awareness of the outside world", repeating the "occasionally things are happening to build up to the end outside the turtle's awareness" and it's. It's a pacing and escalation, issue, again. And yes, we got some of my favorite episodes out of season 2! Season 2 had some good episodes! But also... I would have liked the stakes to progress just a bit?

When you finally had such a huge shift in the plot, and then suddenly you go ALL the way back down the where you started in stakes and tone it can be a bit... jarring. It's a pacing and escalation issue, again.

Also, if we’re going a bit more abstract, Rise could have had more serious episodes relating to their main theme/focus.

2012 was obviously focusing on their plot, and specifically the history between Splinter and Shredder, and the concepts of revenge and obsession.  And it came up a lot!  It was threaded through the majority of the episodes.  I might not always personally agree with the conclusions they came to, but I can’t deny they treated it with gravitas.

Rise seemed to be focusing on family bonds and family baggage.  And it's woven into a lot of the silliness. And there are also some episodes that address it seriously!  And they’re GOOD!  But, uh – there could definitely have been more.  Especially for the Splinter-children relationships.

They went with a very risky play for Splinter and his arc, and while I personally liked the shape of it, I can understand the people who take a very negative interpretation of this Splinter because there were not enough episodes dealing with reconciling his relationship with his kids.  They made a point to show that things were strained, made the theme family bonding, and then... didn’t put in enough episodes to finish off their main theme.

Don’t get me wrong, what Rise does have for their characters is very, very good.  Again, I’ll be talking about it in the 2012 section.  It’s just... the pacing of it all.

So, what I think Rise needed is what 2012 excelled at – pacing and interweaving of the plot, proper escalation of stakes, and time spent highlighting their main theme in more serious episodes.

Now, the other half of the equation: 2012.

I mentioned earlier that 2012 was going for a more serious tone, and that it was focused on the plot.  And they did it well!  It paid off!  I just maybe, personally, think that came at the cost of the character writing.

It’s not that it’s bad.  They’ve got a strong sense of character voice for their main cast.  It’s just that when you go anywhere beyond that it’s really... average for a kid's cartoon, and when compared to the obvious effort they went to when weaving together the plot it sticks out.  Of course, authors are allowed to lean into plot-based narrative over character-based, and this might just be personal taste again, but...

I’m going to put in a reminder that everything in this rant is based on how the writing hit my brain specifically.  Different people will experience the same story differently, yes?  Yes.

That being said, the character writing for 2012 hit me weird.  There were “character episodes” in between the plot ones, yes, but they didn’t feel... connected?  If the pacing of the plot in Rise felt weird and disjointed, the character arcs, if I could find them in 12, felt the same way.  It’s like they would drop in a really interesting nugget for a character into a single episode, and I’d be excited to see where it went – and then it would either be shoved way in the background from there on out, or dropped completely.  It often left me feeling like I’d missed a step going down the stairs, when I expected them to start working on a character arc and they just went back to the status quo.  That’s not uncommon for a kids show, but... they put so much more effort into the intricacies of the plot!

What ended up feeling missing was a development of the characters from an internal perspective.  That is, hm.

I mentioned earlier that there were narrative benefits to the shenanigan structure of Rise.  The first half of this is because it lives and dies by its characters.  They can’t depend on an engaging plot to capture your interest long-term, because the plot is only in select episodes, so by god you better be attached to these characters.  While part of the humor is, yes, the situations they get into, the other part is the character dynamics – both the friction between them, but also the positive synergy between them.  That’s not to say 2012 doesn’t have character interactions – they've got their banter – it's just that it doesn’t have to carry the episode the way it does in Rise.

The other half of the narrative benefits is that more episodes can be motivated by the character’s internal desires, rather than external forces.  Stepping outside of TMNT to reference everyone’s favorite cartoon, Avatar, for every, say, Avatar Roku, you’ve gotta have a The Waterbending Scroll.

2012 is largely driven by its plot – which is a good plot!  But what felt like, eh, 90% of the time?  Everything that’s happening is motivated by what the antagonists are doing – the Kraang/Purple Dragons/Foot are doing this bad thing, or coming after us, and we have to stop them, because we’re the good guys/they’ll kill us if we don’t.  Not bad, objectively, it certainly raises stakes!  But also, it doesn’t really let us in on, like, the character’s internal world or what they want.

With Rise’s shenanigans...

Origami Tsunami happens because the boys got a taste of fighting and want to chase that high.  Shell in a Cell happens because Raph loves wrestling, his brothers seem to like it well enough or otherwise want to hang out/humor him, and Leo is feeding his ego/fighting his insecurities.  Repo Mantis is because Donnie and Mikey were hanging out while Donnie collected resources(?), saw something they wanted, and went balls to the walls to acquire it.  The Purple Jacket happens because Donnie wanted to experience toxic academia and fashion.  I could go on.

My point is Rise leaves more space for the episodes to be internally motivated, and that ends up telling us a lot about their characters!  What did they want?  How did they specifically go about trying to get it?  Did they involve others?  Who did they involve?  It adds depth to them, even in the silly goofy show!

There is also one specific writing trick Rise uses which I wish could go back in time and be implemented into 2012, and that is: “line played for laughs in one episode” > “oh wait they were serious”.

I’m talking the “my first positive reinforcement from a parent-aged adult. EVER.” to Turtle-dega Nights pipeline.  Minotaur Maze to Many Unhappy Returns for Leo.  Arguably Pizza Puffs to the series finale for Raph, if you follow me.  Reparin’ the Baron to Hidden City’s Most Wanted.

Even in the jokes, the throw-away lines, Rise is exposing what makes the characters tick.  And then when it hits, it hits.  This is why, while the Rise arcs are kind of incomplete, the writing still feels more consistent to me and I find it easier to see the intended arc they were going for.

And I so so so wish 2012 had that kind of thing, or ANY more focus put on character development, because, not to harp on this again, but they’ll drop in this one really interesting line or action from a character in a single episode focusing on them, then never mention it again or develop on the concept, and it kind of makes me feral because, like -

I want to gather up all these weird little scraps they give about these characters and pin them up conspiracy-board style and go: why didn’t we get a plot line about this?  Or this?  Did you notice how a lot of the time Raph is pushing for more action against their enemies, he brings up that they’re out there hurting more people?  And that could indicate a unique empathy for the victims, which would have been an interesting expansion on the vengeance theme of the showing, looking at justice v vengeance when ti comes to people without the ability to fight back?  Leo has a lot of tension between wanting to be a good leader and wanting the freedom to make impulsive choices and chase what he wants, which is interesting when you also look at moments we see with his two role models the sci-fi hero (who is kind of an asshole) and Splinter (who, while wise, has baggage that sometimes affects his decisions), and it feels like somewhere between all that there could have been an expanded storyline that actually resolved that tension between responsibility and personal desire that would have lead to his own version of leadership?  What about getting a focus on the few lines Donnie gives about his insecurities/stress re: his scientific abilities/role, rather than dragging him into his extremely bland romantic b-plot?  Can we address the weird way Mikey did chemistry magic two or three times but it’s never brought up outside that, or that one line by the anger-persona in his mind explicitly saying he tries to repress his anger because he doesn’t like the way it feels, or, or -

Why do they keep dropping these really interesting inciting incidents for character arcs and then not going anywhere with them I am losing my mind I am shaking the writers why do you keep teasing me like this -

Ahem.

Additionally... well, I mentioned above that Rise has a main theme of family bonds, where... 2012 kind of struggled to convince me of any relationship. Or, no, that sounds harsher than what I really mean.

I also want to clarify that I am not saying I think they dislike or don't care about each other, or any of the extremely negative takes I’ve seen thrown at the 12 characters dynamics.  That’s not it at all.  It’s just that they all felt... very surface level?  Sometimes it felt like the show wanted you to just accept that the characters were close without putting in the work to really show it.  And definitely not to explore it in depth.  (And I know, I know, I know!  It’s a Nick kids show!  But!  They put so much effort into the plot!)

Again, I think this is affected by the lower usage of internal motivation for episodes.  Characters doing things because they want them, then seeing how those different desires interact, gives you a better view of their relationships than just seeing a team work together because they have a common enemy.

Again, it’s not that 2012 never does this.  We see glimpses of them playing around – competing to do flips when running the city, watching their tv shows, playing pinball (was it pinball? Or an arcade game?).  It’s just that the emphasis on the plot (not an objectively bad thing!) leaves less room for episodes based on them just... doing things together, because they want to.  And less room for engaging in personalized interests together, rather than separately, and seeing how that plays out.

I think I’m devolving into senseless rambling at this point, so to sum up:

2012’s emphasis on plot – which it generally excels at! – leaves less room for exploring stories based on internal motivations, which I find necessary for consistent character arcs or relationship development and are the elements Rise kind of lives on when its plot is running thin.

Hopefully none of this is taken as an attack on/dislike for either iteration.  I like them both!  It’s just they both drive me a little bit crazy with what could have been!

Of course, this is all down to personal taste and interpretation.  I am fairly aware of my biases, I think.  I am very much attracted to character-driven narratives, and even in plot-based ones I have a tendency to care more about the character implications than the plot itself.  There’s a reason Days (the oops all character writing game) is my favorite Kingdom Hearts story!

(I do, also, really, really like anime bullshit, so do with that what you will.)

I am also aware that I binge-watched this series as an adult years after it ended, and that combination of factors may affect my reception.  (Admittedly I did that for both series, but).  Your experience might be very, very different, but I’m trying to understand the way these two shows are hitting my brain.

Thinking it over also gives me a hypothesis (which other people have probably already figured out) of why certain people are drawn to one series of the other: 2012 probably appeals more to people who are engaged by continuous, interconnected plots and careful pacing in a story, while Rise probably appeals to people who are more engaged by pure character pieces (and anime bullshit).

[sanstropfremir]

i havent seen anyone bother you about mave yet(? maybe i missed it) so i wanted to bother you about mave. People are *saying* that theyre ripping aespa but i think both mave and aespa ripping k/da. k/da is very successful in their own right but companies need to know they cant replicate something like that,,, not authentically at least. k/da had built in lore, built in fanfare from other artists fanbases and interesting music. if companies arent even gonna TRY with any of that theres no point

no one has! they're.......fine i guess? i have nothing really to say about them bc they're just kind of middle of the road. i AM however inclined to agree with you that they are ripping k/da. aespa i think gets it more right and i don't mind their ae concept as much as i thought i would bc it's pretty much just used for story + worldbuilding purposes, which is what that kind of thing works well for. mave is....pretty much just the end product of k/da without any of the whole ass game that the characters in k/da are based on. i did actually write a post about k/da ages ago, but they very much were a passion project of riot's that they didn't really have an idea if the whole thing was gonna work or not. and it was the combination of all of the factors (being made by very passionate people, having extremely talented top of the line animators involved, the game's fandom, and smart utilization of the actual medium itself) that made them pop off like crazy, not the formula of 'pretty animated idol women'. aespa is at least combining both traditional idol forms with some of those animated elements, and is doing it in a way that's in line with sm's conceptual branding (i don't mean the kwangya stuff, i mean they've always done concepts around techno orientalism, going all the way back to h.o.t). i don't really know what the more nuanced deal with mave is bc i've only seen the mv and it didn't grab me so i haven't bothered to look for more about them, but when you get down to it: idols are characters, especially the human ones. we've just been conditioned not to recognize them as such bc the fantasy hinges on everyone agreeing that it's all real. it's the ultimate suspension of disbelief that everyone refuses to acknowledge. all the extra content is there to establish the 'world' that these idols live in, to build them up as characters in this little story that they play for our entertainment. with real live people it's very easy to convince an audience that what is happening is real, bc our brains are trusting and stupid, but with something that is NOT human, it's much harder. we automatically see where all the flaws are, and you cannot shortcut 'worldbuilding' with extra content like you do with an idol bc those people are not real so they would not be doing real people things. when you have animated characters with no grounding to a real person (that's where aespa gets it right), you NEED to have a story to establish where those characters are from because otherwise, what the hell is the draw? why should people care? especially when we don't really have unified stock characters as part of a cultural concensus atm. idk. maybe the novelty of it is drawing people in, but in my opinion this company missed the trees for the forest on what actually made k/da (and to some degree aespa) successful in the first place.

[penelopecruzcoded]

she said i cling so hard to this narrative that i’m a victim that that’s all that i’ve become, well FUCK YOU maybe that’s all i am and maybe this narrative is all i fucking goddamned have. maybe i have it because it’s the fucking truth and it’s what fucking happened and just trying to fucking gloss over it isn’t gonna do jack shit for me maybe it works for you and helps you to live in denial and never think of your past because you fucking look at it and want to vomit and die lmao but maybe i’m trying to do the hard work here of trying to face my past, unpack it and unburden myself once and for all? has that thought ever fucking occurred to you?? has it??  no it hasn’t because you thing i really have 3 braincells up in here and i think of nothing but cheeseburgers and anime or whatever the fuck you’ve assumed i think about all day, no other thoughts, nothing else going on up there, nada. i’m just a content lil pea living in immobilizing trauma unable to leave my house just like that, for funsies. that’s what it is lol, isn’t it?

i don’t understand how that can make sense to anybody, not a passing stranger and especially not you, who claim to know me so fucking well. but you know nothing, you don’t know me at ALL, and passing strangers i’ve spent 5 minutes talking to somehow can understand me better than you, understand the very core of me without me having to upend my intestines attempting to speak this fucked up shit that’s inside me, lay it all out for you unwillingly because you simply won’t understand any other way, can’t even understand, and at the end of the day don’t give a shit. don’t give a shit or are too damaged yourself to handle it lmao. so don’t fucking go there with me then. don’t go there if you KNOW you’re gonna be telling me to shut up just as i’m trying to tell you the very heart of it, the very matter of fact that’s at the bottom of all this sludge that’s inside of me that i don’t uncover for anybody else, don’t like showing them because it’s ugly, it’s all so goddamn ugly!!! and then you tell me to shut up and pack it away, well it’s better if you’d never spoken to me or acknowledged me at all, cause then you leave a bitch feeling stupid, worthless, invalidated, like shit on a shoe lol. and i get enough of those feelings generated by my own goddamn brain thank you very much. you terrify me so much sometimes, you accuse me of acting like her when you’re the one who acts like her sometimes, you look at me with her eyes, those eyes of darkness and horrror and soullesness, you know how many things i’ve tried to outrun those eyes? you know all the effort i’ve spent trying to fucking run away from those goddamned eyes? so much effort. and all my efforts do is make that shit lurk underneath the surface so i can experience nightmares and sleep paralysis where my body is fucking paralyzed and i have no choice, no choice but to look at those goddamned eyes!!!! i don’t wanna be here anymore, i don’t wanna be on this planet anymore because i’m tired of the suffering, tired of the tears, tired of the pain, tired of everything. i try to look on the bright side and be optimistic day in and day out, and it just gets me this. i try to not think this way but then i end up thinking this way anyway, that life is just shitty thing after shitty thing after shitty thing, and then you die. how can i know otherwise when that’s been my life? how can i know the flipside of the beauty of life everybody talks about, when i live on the other side? i get glass house now cause that’s entirely how i feel. but i can’t even do it, i can’t pull the plug because what if i’m bad at pulling the plug, what if i fuck up and half ass it? you’re so lucky david you don’t even know. everybody at the funeral felt sorry for you but i feel envy. a week ago she said that that dream was your way of telling me you’re in a better place, and i burst into tears. i don’t know why i’ve cried so much about you when we weren’t even close. maybe it’s all the envy. you jumped and turned into an angel and i’m too much of a goddamned coward to do it, i’m too insane because i think what if i survive even that? knowing the way whoever’s up there loves to play these jokes on me that’s exactly what would happen. miracle survival, and then more hell, hell i’ll have to suffer for the sin of even attempting, or some such shit.

i know i tried to quit it years ago but maybe my biggest addiction of all is this, feeling sorry for myself. i feel so fucking sorry for that little girl, the wide eyed innocent one who was so trusting and loving. i know she didn’t go anywhere and that she’s still inside me, she’s still inside me and she cries daily, cries all the time. i gave her a protector to watch over her but he wasn’t there either when she needed him the most. everybody leaves. everybody leaves and i’m left gasping for air, wishing i wasn’t here, wishing i was somewhere else. when i nearly fell asleep i dreamed i took a ticket to a subway, a special subway that transports you to other planets. it was a one way ticket and i didn’t know where i was going, just that it would be far from here. maybe it was mars. maybe that���s my home planet after all. people in the cptsd sub talk about how they feel like aliens, they don’t feel human, and boy have i always felt that too. i don’t feel of this world, because i can’t handle this world. i’m not equipped for it. if i took all this remaining wellbutrin maybe it would give me a massive seizure and instant death, but that’s no guarantee either. i’m so sad i don’t have any sedatives. i get why people pop pills to do it now, every other way sounds too painful. that’s the shittiest truth of this world, that no one’s gonna save you but yourself. and i don’t know how much fight i got in me left. i know i won’t, can’t, pull the plug, but i’ll just resign myself to a life of misery and nothingness until the universe decides it’s my time. my heart hurts, it physically hurts like there’s something tugging, i don’t know if this is heartburn or something else. they say you can die of a broken heart. i don’t wanna fucking go like that, what a pussy way to go no thanks i don’t want that. robbie wrote the realest song when he wrote feel, because i feel like that. it’s really like that. i don’t wanna die but i don’t wanna live either. we always come back here. always. i’m tired of it. 

[the-far-bright-center]

Re: TCW as meta commentary

A little while ago, I commented on a post about the electrocution that Anakin experiences during The Clone Wars animated series, but since my response turned into a bit of a rant I decided to make a separate post instead. It’s become almost a meme these days to say that Anakin must have 'brain damage' from all that electrocution during the Clone Wars. I realise that tumblr just likes to joke around, but I personally get frustrated with these sorts of 'readings' because it's just...not how I personally view these kinds of things at all. When I watched TCW back in the day, I just presumed that the reason there was so much electrocution was to give a ‘nod’ to Vader being so averse to Palpatine’s Force-lightning in RotJ. Having Anakin tortured countless times in a similar manner to how Luke is at the end of RotJ then explains why Anakin/Vader can’t abide seeing his son tortured that way any longer (he knows all-too well what it’s like!) and finally snaps and kills Palpatine. The fact he hates and is maybe even terrified of Palpatine’s Force-lightning by that point (knowing it will almost certainly kill him) also lends his final sacrifice in RotJ another level of pathos and heroism.

Of course, one could just dismiss the electrocution as the writers being sadistic and saying ‘let’s torture Anakin all the time’ (which is definitely part of it, lol), but I also feel like there's more going on there. Everything in the (original Lucas-era) seasons of TCW was constructed as a sort of ‘meta analysis’ of the PT x OT saga, explored via the Clone Wars-era characters and themes. One of the reasons TCW was even made in the first place was to shed further light on the Prequels at a time when SW fans were still fairly hostile to it. And particularly to shed light on the Prequels in relation to the Original Trilogy. That’s why Anakin was explicitly shown to be the Chosen One in the Mortis Arc—because at the time there was still tons of confusion from fans on the subject (despite Lucas confirming it many times in interviews) and the show was trying to clarify that.

I think people these days get tripped up because they’re trying to take every detail of TCW way too literally. Some aspects of the show can work on a literal level, but not everything. Simply due to the fact it's an animated series (where the rules of gravity don’t even apply at times), there is no way that every single moment in it could be considered 100% canon anyway. Acknowledging that some elements of the show couldn’t possibly be meant to be taken literally was easier to do during the pre-Disney times when the series was still just another entry into the Expanded Universe. It’s only because Disney has now absorbed TCW into their ‘official canon’ (and keep churning out content related to it—something I’m NOT happy about) that there’s all this sort of external ‘pressure’ to view it as completely canon.

Speaking of which, I’ve noticed a lot of polarised opinions on the series lately, ranging from people who accept it wholesale to those who flat out hate it and see it in the same vein as the current Disney material. I can't comment on the 'final season' released under Disney because I never watched it and probably never will. That being said, I personally have a great fondness and nostalgia for the 2008-2013 series, in part because I watched it with my husband when we first got together. If the OT represents my childhood and the PT represents my teenage years, then TCW is from a charmed, golden era just prior to the Disney takeover when I was bonding with my husband over our shared love of SW. Sure, I have issues with some parts of it at times, but it was never a big deal for me in the past because I never viewed the series as canon on the same level as the main six-film saga. Rather, I've always seen it as an interesting illumination on the saga, some of which I agree with and some of which I don’t, and some of which I accept into my own personal headcanon, and some of which I discard.

Things I adore and have taken fully into my heacanon: Ahsoka's character and Snips and Skyguy's relationship. They mean too much to me to not do so. Likewise, all the cute, romantic, and (positive) emotional Anidala moments, as well as the Obitine ship (aka the only ship for Obi-Wan that ever made sense from my perspective). I also view Rex and several of the other Clones as canon additions, because fleshing out the Clone characters was always very important worldbuilding and I'm glad it was included. Similarly, I love all the humorous moments and banter, especially in the early seasons. But on the other hand, there are several story arcs in the later seasons that are either too ‘out there’, blatantly ooc, or even incredibly disturbing (Zygerrian arc, for instance), and I refuse to accept these as literal ‘canon’. Nevertheless, I can't fully dismiss them either because there are still moments of these episodes that I enjoy and value. In those instances, I sort of step outside the story for a moment and look at it from a meta perspective to discern what they were trying to do and say with those storylines, since taking them literally would be too jarring. Likewise, no matter how many times I watch TCW (and even having seen most of Rebels as well), I’m NEVER going to accept the idea that Maul was somehow still alive and wreaking havoc during the Twilight of the Republic and even during the Dark Times. I don’t accept it as canon because I feel it detracts not only from the impact of the Duel of the Fates in TPM, but also from the symmetry and beauty of the perfectly mirrored PT x OT saga as a whole. I can acknowledge that some of the Maul storylines in the animated series were interesting and even emotionally impactful (and can enjoy Sam Witwer's voice acting for him), while also sticking to my guns and saying ‘this whole premise is just plain silly, I am not accepting this as real’. (I would have actually been more amenable to Maul if he'd been 'ressurected' in a different manner, but that's a subject for another post.)

So, while I enjoy TCW, I personally think it’s more enjoyable if you stop believing everything in it is meant to be taken completely literally or realistically, and instead view it as part fun, entertaining romp, part ‘missing moment’ fanfic, and part serious (if somewhat dark and twisted) meta-commentary.

[hyukascampfire]

OKAYYY FINALLY I GET TO RN THIS. first of all, thank you so much for reading :,) just know that i read this so many times over. this was just the best notif to receive.

MC is also SO me. which means we are TWINSSSSS. i’m around the same age as her, and also just so sad to be letting childhood go. i tried writing that sadness out in MC, and i think the best thing ever is getting multiple messages abt how so many people relate to her. it means we’re all in this together. we’re not alone in our feelings, which is honestly the biggest comfort to me.

COMPLIMENTING MY MUSIC TASTEEE. you are the loml. AND you listened while reading. as intended. i literally could not be happier. i was feeling that playlist while writing🤤

and then you compiled all your favorite quotes here 😭 stop. i am so giddy. those are some of my favorite from the fic as well. especially “you clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. you refuse to acknowledge its end.” that one i am so proud of, for how incredibly powerfully it illustrates how i feel about this stage of my life. im glad that the stars aligned and my brain was in the right mood to put that on paper.

and oh my god, if that’s the same erin morgenstern as the night circus, i will absolutely be reading it. ABSOLUTELYYYY.

I LOVE FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. and ALSO dog days. i think our music tastes are lovers. dog days is so so so perfect. thank you so much for reading, kipo. i think you’ve made my whole life with this rb. i’m so deeply in love with the way this story came out. at first, it was just a few bare bones scenes, and it just kept on growing and growing and i really knew i had to see it out. i think it flourished so beautifully:,))

THE BLOCK OF TAGS hell yeah.

ribs playing at the ending and scott street and more than this during the confession oh shuffle had it OUT for you 😭 but i also think those songs at those specific scenes are PERFECT.

and yeah FUCK yeonjun!!! it was tough writing him like that 😕

IM SO PROUD OF THE MOTH SYMBOLISM. i wanted it to feel like, even when kai and MC were lost and confused and apart, they were never really alone, and there were perhaps bigger things at play here. or maybe even the instances of moths appearing were nothing more than coincidence (of course except for at the creek and during the confession). i want to leave it up to the reader to decide that.

OKAY I GOTTA CUT THIS RB OFF because it’s lagging to even type because it’s all so long. i wish i could say more omg i could talk about it forever with you. thank you so much for reading, like really so so so much. T^T

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”  ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

𝔴arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.  

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.  

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.  

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.  

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you? 

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?” 

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.” 

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?” 

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.” 

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them. 

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?” 

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.  

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.  

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.” 

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.  

Can’t things just stay like this? 

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.  

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.” 

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.” 

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.” 

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.  

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.” 

“I just... don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.” 

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?” 

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says. 

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.” 

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.  

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.” 

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.” 

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”  

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.  

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you. 

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.” 

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.  

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.  

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!” 

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.” 

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands. 

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.  

⚝⭒ 

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.  

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit. 

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened. 

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.  

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home. 

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was. 

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.  

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed. 

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.  

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him. 

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.” 

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones. 

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty. 

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you. 

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go. 

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands. 

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd. 

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.  

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready. 

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.  

⚝⭒ 

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.  

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.  

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever. 

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs. 

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?” 

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.  

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.” 

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.” 

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”  

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.  

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you. 

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.  

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.  

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee. 

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.  

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin. 

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.” 

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.  

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.  

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?” 

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up. 

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.” 

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again. 

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.” 

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?” 

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but—” 

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.” 

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.  

⚝⭒ 

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.  

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...” 

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.  

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you. 

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.  

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.” 

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”  

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.  

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms.Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?” 

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.  

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...” 

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?” 

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.” 

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.” 

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”  

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.  

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway. 

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”  

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.” 

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button. 

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips. 

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?” 

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.” 

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.” 

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.  

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?” 

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.” 

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.  

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.  

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.” 

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.” 

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face. Though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?” 

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.” 

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches. 

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.” 

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.” 

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”  

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up. 

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.  

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.  

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though. 

⚝⭒ 

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely. 

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope. 

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered. 

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.  

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on. 

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?” 

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.” 

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.” 

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest. 

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.  

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.  

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.” 

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?” 

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.” 

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.  

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.  

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.  

⚝⭒ 

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable. 

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this. 

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it. 

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting. 

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?” 

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.  

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.  

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.” 

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands. 

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” 

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him. 

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this. 

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.  

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.  

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.  

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.” 

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.  

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap. 

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap. 

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.  

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.  

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his. 

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you. 

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there. 

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.  

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs. 

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you. 

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need. 

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?” 

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that? 

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.” 

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.  

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.” 

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.  

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?” 

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.  

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?” 

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.  

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.  

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt. 

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?” 

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit. 

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.” 

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright. 

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.  

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind. 

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up. 

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure. 

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.  

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened. 

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you. 

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.  

⚝⭒ 

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out. 

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.  

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.  

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.  

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”  

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?” 

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with. 

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him. 

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.” 

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.” 

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.” 

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest. 

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.” 

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.” 

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.” 

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.” 

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.” 

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it. 

⚝⭒ 

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it. 

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls? 

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel. 

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place. 

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here? 

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know. 

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes. 

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt. 

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring. 

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that. 

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.” 

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder. 

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.  

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.” 

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”  

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.” 

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says. 

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.  

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.  

⚝⭒ 

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.  

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.  

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore. 

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things—putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time. 

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then. 

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore. 

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest. 

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.  

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them. 

So you do. 

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow. 

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer. 

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you. 

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.  

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you. 

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again. 

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled. 

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?” 

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.” 

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.” 

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.” 

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard? 

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?” 

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.” 

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.” 

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.” 

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...” 

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths. 

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.” 

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes. 

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.” 

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.” 

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did. 

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.” 

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once. 

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too. 

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered. 

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.” 

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.  

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.” 

⚝⭒ 

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed. 

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping. 

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.  

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.” 

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?” 

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.” 

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.” 

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks. 

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.” 

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.  

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior. 

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.” 

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."  

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy. 

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.” 

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlights pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you. 

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.” 

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.” 

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?” 

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage. 

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.” 

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine. 

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.” 

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound. 

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.” 

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.” 

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought. 

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half. 

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.” 

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up. 

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it. 

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest. 

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again. 

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life. 

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.” 

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam. 

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—” 

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?” 

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.” 

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there. 

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?” 

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat. 

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”  

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth. 

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.  

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck. 

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there. 

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.” 

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai. 

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him. 

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.” 

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.” 

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?” 

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!” 

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?” 

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples. 

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt. 

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair. 

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever. 

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips. 

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.” 

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says: 

Home. You are home. 

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

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[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 1

Because this was my first time doing this I went a little crazy. If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Time:

- It had been welcomed with open arms.

- You two are literally the opposite but also very similar. Time is calm and stoic. You are chaotic and loud. But both of you are very cryptic.

- You’re the only person in the kingdom of hyrule currently that remembers what he had gone through. He feels like he can trust you with anything.

- It’s started with a slip up by wind and just spiraled out of control.

___________________________________

Time was discussing the groups inventory with Twilight and Wild when it happens. A small slip of the tongue followed by a laughter that could be mistaken as a fairy chime. He looked over to see your bright smile shining through under your hood. In front of you was the target of your amusement, the youngest link.

“That’s so cute!” You exclaimed to the horror of Wind, who was red in embarrassment. “Wait who’s dad?”

“Can we let this go?” The teen was covering his face now.

“It’s Time.” Four said without looking up from his book. Utter chaos broke loose in camp with just a few words. A chorus of any forms of agreement was making you laugh even harder. Time though covering up his true feelings about the situation was very lost. While yes, he acknowledged that he had slowly became the father figure of the group. That title didn’t involve you.

Unless…

“Time! I didn’t know we were married!” You bounced over to their leader looking at him with a playful smirk.

A life with you flashes in his head.

There could be a small cottage farm surrounded by the forest that reminding him of his old family and home. You could take care of the garden while he could take care the animals. In a few years the two of you might just have a few kids running around. Playing with each other without a care in the world. No more fighting. No more traveling. Just a simple lifestyle with a tight knit family. It looked peaceful. Everything he would want.

“You should have told me.” He was brought back to the present by your face looking up at him expectedly.

“I thought you knew.” He said super seriously. “We’ve got to raise nine children together already.”

“Hey! I raised you during the war old man!” Warriors called out from across camp.

“You’re the uncle then!” (Y/n) countered “I already say Twilight is our first born!” You declared pointing to Time’s flustered descendent. The rest of the conversation was tuned out as he went back to his thoughts once more.

Time lived longer than most of the heroes here by age 11. Yet not once did he stop to think about a future and family. He was so busy trying to keep out of hero work that it just slipped. Yet see you with the other heroes, knowing now that you were just as much a parental figure to the others as him. It made his softer just thinking about it and he welcomed that warm fuzzy feeling with open arms.

Reaching out he brush’s hair out of your face to kiss your temple. “I’ll propose to you properly later.” He said in a teasing tone to suggest he was only joking to hide the truth in that statement. Seeing your entire face flush red was really worth it.

“Gross Mom and Dad are flirting!”

___________________________________

- He’ll never once tell you straight if he liked you or was just playing along with the ongoing joke that the chain has.

- This time instead of you observing him. He wants to see how far he can go until confessing.

- It drives you crazy. Since you can’t get a read on him. You attempt to flirt back in retaliation. However, it always ends with you being the most flustered.

- Who knew the Old Man had it in him?

Twilight:

- It became a melancholic hopeless feeling that spiral out of control.

- He already had his heartbroken by someone before and he knows he shouldn’t get attached to you too.

- Yet he can’t stop himself from wanting to be near you. He heard you so clearly before.

- Now that he can actually speak to you directly, he wants to get to know his other travel companion more.

___________________________________

Being alone in the forest with you wasn’t what Twilight planned when dropped in a different Hyrule but here you two where. You offered to go on patrol with him when the others were setting up camp claiming it was too see if you could identify the era. It didn’t matter since Twilight enjoyed your company no matter what. The lack of conversation between the two of you didn’t bother him. If anything, it felt the most natural. Only a few words were needed for the two of you to understand each other. “Do you mind if I use my wolf form?” Twilight asked fiddling with the chain that attached to the shadow crystal around his neck.

You paused to think about it. “I mean you can. But be aware I will baby talk you.”

This got Twilight to stop walking. Maybe he lied. He doesn’t need a few words to understand your thought process. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t control myself around cute creatures.” You simply stated like it was the most obvious thing.

Instead, Twilight was burning up. You thought his wolf form was cute? Of all things you used that word? What did you think of human Twilight if you thought like that? Did he want to even know? He was searching for any way to take this conversation but it all lead to dead ends. “Cute?” Was all he could ask. His voice pitching up as he got flustered.

“Yeah?” You looked at him just as confused as he was. “Wolves are just like big dogs and to be honest you look more like a giant dog then a wolf.” Your explanation did not help at all with his situation. “If it makes you feel better you’re very handsome as a Hylian and also built like an go-“

Twilights brain was malfunctioning he couldn’t hear any more of what you had to say about him. He grabbed on to the shadow crystal, turning into his wolf form he ran. He didn’t hear you call out his name in surprise.

Hylia, what was wrong with him? You were just a friend. A very blunt yet gentle friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. Why was his heart racing so much? He had heard you shower him in complements before while on his first adventure. But hearing you say it to his face with no shame whatsoever was a different story.

Twilight knew what these feelings were and deep down he really wanted to act on them. But was it ok? Was his heart finally healing from his last love? Twilight was already aware this time that you had to leave at some point. He didn’t need to act on them despite wanting to. He could just be your friend and continue the relationship like that.

His heart was already breaking a second time.

Twilight was in love you and it was driving him crazy.

___________________________________

- Like Time, Twilight isn’t going to tell you about his feelings. Instead, he is going to forever pine for you.

- It’s going to be a slow process and you need to be aware that he will get hurt if you’re going to go back home.

- He’ll see you off with a smile, but as soon as your gone he will break.

Warriors:

- It was full of denial and fear.

- He went through the receiving end of someone’s obsessive love.

- And it doesn’t help that you’ve watched over their adventures. He vowed to not get that close to you.

- There was a need to destroy the endearing feeling he sees when you smile at him.

- Yet seeing you with a sad far out look on your face makes him scramble to your side to find out what’s wrong.

___________________________________

It was just the two of you. Weaving throughout the crowds of castle town. You were currently in Four’s Era and in the middle of the Picori festival. The group was long spilt up, leaving Warriors alone with the dimensional traveler. Soon even (Y/n) was walking away from him. He didn’t know why he followed, the argument in his head was telling him that it was so they didn’t get lost. Yet there was a part of him that knew that wasn’t it.

“Where are you going anyway?” He thought to finally ask as you reached a quieter area. “It’s going to be hard to spend time in the festival from here.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” You were a bit snappy today, “shouldn’t you find someone else to hang out with?” Warriors just shrugged as you slowed your pace down to pause in front of the small river that ran through castle town. The silence now filled with the rushing of water as you sat on the bridge.

Against his better judgement Warriors sat next to you. Finally, he got to talk to you one on one but the normally impulsive and excitable person Warrior’s grew to expect had changed in that moment.

You looked so tired.

“Hey Link?” You finally called out to him “I know I shouldn’t ask you this but…” hesitation was new to your character. “How do I even start?” You rake a hand through your hair. Sweeping a part of your hair out of your eyes. “Was I ever helpful during your Adventure?”

Oh… Oh he really wasn’t the right person for this talk.

You look back you and towards the festival and he followed your gaze. From where they were he could only spot a few of his party members. Wind was with Legend and Hyrule playing some of the stall games. While Four was with his Zelda holding hands as she pulled him further into the crowd. “Last time I saw this festival it ended up destroyed by Vaati.” The wind mage was only brought up a few times by Four. All Warriors really knew was that the villain was supposed to be sealed away by the Four Sword, and that his power was connected by the dark mirror. “I found myself wondering if my presence even mattered.” Your shoulder slumped in defeat as you curled into yourself.

The instant need to comfort shot through Warriors. He wanted to reach out. He fought the urge to hold you. He bites his tongue when he started to think of embellished words to make you feel better.

What was wrong with him?

Warriors had to say something though. “I don’t know about Four or the others.” He didn’t even think about your presence in his adventure too much. If anything, he actively tried not to think about it. Here you were though a person and not a figment of in his imagination. “During the war, your voice and presence is what broke the tension. The moments that could have been my lowest, you were there saying things that I wanted to repeat out loud.” There was a fondness while he was looking back at the memories. From the moment he ran on the battle field foolishly as a trainee soldier. His pride grew upon hearing your praise and surprise when seeing him fight for the first time. To your excitement while meeting his friends from the other Eras. He shared your sentiments about Mask as you cooed over the child as Warriors fought by his side. Then your anger, disgust and pity towards Cia. While on his side, your empathetic nature had you morning during her passing. These where just the tip of the iceberg.

Just having someone voice out mutual thoughts on a situation helps when you can’t do it on your own. You feel crazy thinking the way you do. “With you there it’s like you always have someone by your side cheering you on and supporting you.” He paused to look at you. Conflicting emotions clashing together. You turn to look at him, your eyes only briefly visible through your bangs. Curiosity and guilt were swarming with in them. “I’m not the person to talk to about this.” He finally admitted out loud. “But I would be lying if I said your presence wasn’t important to us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Was that not what he was supposed to say? Warriors tried to stay calm under your gaze.

You let out a huff of laughter covering your mouth and turning away from him a bit to calm down. “I didn’t think about it like that.” There was a pause where you looked back at the festive before turning back to smiling softly at him. “Thanks Cap.”

The smile that you had on your lips had Warriors stomach do back flips. A blush decorated his face as he turns away. “It’s something that should have been said a while ago.” He manages to say without stuttering.

You were really pretty.

The sound of a picto box followed by winds snickering, was ignored when the thought had just register in his head. He finally realized how far he fell for you.

___________________________________

- one by one his defenses lowered.

- With every smiled sent his way, with every laugh that he earned. He found himself wanting more.

- He slowly opens up, a slow process but it wasn’t as scary as he thought it was going to be.

- A teasing nickname here. A gentle touch there. He realizes he has gone too far.

(Part 2)

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

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Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.