#I am not over the music and writing in this show

[jack-of-heartstrings]

OH HOLY SHIT, ANARKA FANART??? This literally made my morning. I absolutely adore her and I never see this level of appreciation. She looks amazing!!!

I'm not sure about the past stuff, given Crocoduel goes out of its way to make it clear there was some huge miscommunication. It's very likely neither of their stories is quite the truth. But he says their record saved him after she left him, and she says it tore them apart, so it SOUNDS LIKE something might have happened where either they were "taking a break" or he wildly misunderstood her being upset with him as leaving him or something, and she didn't think it was over but he did, and then he went and got famous on his own, and she took it as going behind her back/abandoning her. Or something?

It would... honestly be kind of grimly funny if her pregnancy was directly a factor, too. She has anger issues even now. I could fully imagine her getting worse because early hormones and neither of them realized yet that was why. Either way, given Jagged knew Luka's name and how Anarka adamantly refused to talk about him, I kind of assume it was her choice to be full no-contact. A stubborn "I don't want your money. You made it clear you didn't want to be part of this family and I don't want you around in any capacity." Dumbass goes on to write My Guitar Is My Only Family to vent his feelings about that with no idea his kids will grow up loving the song. 😔

EITHER WAY...

God I love her. Like... One of the writers described her as "the mom everyone wants unless she's yours." She's fascinating to me.

She clearly does still have anger issues, but "your sister and I are the only ones I've never wanted to throw overboard." I still have to imagine that's a big part of why Juleka's so timid and Luka's so emotionally mature. That even if it wasn't aimed at them, Juleka still grew up watching her go off on other people and never wanted to risk adding to her stress. That Luka is like this partly due to learning to watch for times Juleka was holding her tongue, and partly because he himself was more stubborn and abrasive for a while. That Anarka always did her best to keep herself more in check when dealing with the kids but she and Luka still used to get into arguments about things like her refusing to disclose any information about their dad, leading to him often running off to the bridge to calm down, like he's mentioned to Marinette. And that learning to accept and process all that has led to his "it's not worth it" and walking away faster from arguments now.

I still imagine she's always done her best and succeeded for the most part. She supports the kids in everything they want to do. I've been a little feral over the cameo in Sublimation showing her teaching music and fully want to believe that's been her job for a long time, in other schools, because yeah that makes sense. Turning her passion into a more mundane job that helps other people... And that makes Luka's dream of not being a musician but giving other people the gift of music in another way that much better. 🥹

Also?

Her name is Anarka Couffaine. LIKE... It can be loosely translated as "Anarchy of the coffin" (/"from the grave"?) AND it's a pun on acouphène / "tinnitus". I am 1,000% convinced this woman as a musician gave herself the edgiest stage name imaginable, legally changed it, and then just casually passed that name onto her kids. Her name was probably like, Nancy or something. (Anything "less cool" could work but that one could explain Jagged calling her Nanarky.) She just straight up went "I make my own rules" and then she did forever.

Also the Liberty is just insanely cool on its own. Delighted that it immediately became the designated Hangout Spot from its introduction onward as it should. Anarka just letting twenty kids casually come and go at all hours like. God I love her.

Young Anarka

I dunno… Like

Her past intrigued me the most out of all the adult characters, and I can't understand her mix with Jagged. Like, he cheated on her and she got pregnant? They had an open relationship? Or did they only share intimacy? Why did she never tell her kids about their father? And why didn't their father pay child support lmao…

[amoeganism]

DON'T LIE, I'M PERFECT AND YOU LOVE ME luka

Luka really wants to take a nap after a long day of being exploited and being a pain in the ass to every human around him, but your priorities (pissing him off) come first!

WC: ~600

Your boyfriend, visibly exhausted, miserably slumps his upper body onto his bed and his knees collapse. Bundled under mounds of thick blankets, you reach an arm out to ruffle Luka’s blond hair, brushing through his wavy locks and petting his head like a dog. You snicker at the sight of his face contorting after realizing what you’re doing, lazily swiping your hand away and grunting before coughing into his arm. 

It takes you a few moments to inch over to where Luka lays. You didn’t want to sacrifice the comfort of being suffocated and melting into your bed until you’re a pile of sweat and nasty mulch. His eyes slowly flutter shut and his breathing slows but the uncomfortable position he’s in acts as a barrier between him and falling into a deep sleep. However, it takes too much energy to try to pull Luka fully onto the mattress, but what doesn’t take much energy is disrupting the rest he needs. You aren’t planning on getting the title of “Number One Lover of a Superstar” and you hadn’t seen him the entire day since you both had woken up; you deserve this, you reason to yourself. 

Under your fingertips, you switch between prodding and poking his pale cheeks until they warm and bloom into a faint pink. Luka tries his best to make you stop, puffing his cheeks and intertwining your fingers together but you retaliate by grabbing his face and watching him deflate. It gives you a slight ego boost when he gives up and chooses to throw his lanky limbs over you, adding his heavy bodyweight over the mass of your blankets.

“How was your day of terrorizing the music industry?” you ask, immediately returning to pinching his cheeks. 

“I don’t need to terrorize anyone. Everyone already knows that I’m a fan favorite.”

“Yeah because I totally hallucinated you having at least ten different tabs about Mizi and you weren’t writing in a notebook titled ‘Evil and Devious Masterplan’. You’re embarrassing when you beef with people eight years younger than you.”

“God forbid a man has hobbies.”

“Yeah I really hate it. Stick to singing and looking cute. Only I deserve to see your evil. It makes me feel special when you aren’t exposing yourself to everyone.”

“You make it sound like I’m flashing the public.”

“You pretty much are. Your dick and bad personality are the same thing.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Luka whines in which you stick your tongue out at him in response. “I’m an innocent man who can do nothing bad. Ever. And here I am, being mistreated by the one who is supposed to love me until and beyond death. What did I do to deserve this?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry Luka,” you press a kiss to his sore, red cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin before hugging him tighter. At the same time, you ignore the fact that he is a thirty year old man throwing a minor tantrum over you having fun being insufferable the same way he does on a daily basis. “Anyways, can I bite your face? I have a really bad urge to do that right now. Actually, I don’t need your permission.”

“Hey! I have a show tomorrow, you know? My fans are going to be disappointed if I appear with teeth marks on my face. What will the public think—ow!”

“Hehe, you’re so cute like this.”

“At least bite the other side to even it out,” Luka sighs and turns his head. 

“I knew you loved me.”

[he3ts]

FOR YOUR LOVE , masterlist

( nam gyu x reader (rockstar au), thanos x reader )

warnings: to be consistent with the plot reader is danish, smut, drugs, alcohol, explicit content, lots of music, for this story i was inspired exclusively by the discography of måneskin. i was inspired by one of their songs for this story.

plot: you and nam gyu don't get along. never. he is arrogant, prickly, always ready to challenge you with sharp jokes and fiery glances. you, you are exactly like him, a devil incarnate in a woman figure. you must be perfect, as the guitarist of saurer sarg, a rock band on the rise.

on stage you are a shadow moving between sharp riffs and fiery solos, but out of there the real show is your relationship with nam gyu, the drummer. you prick each other relentlessly, always on the edge between rivalry and something more, something neither of you has ever had the courage to really face.

then there is thanos, the charismatic frontman. when you start writing songs with him, the complicity between you becomes obvious. every note, every word seems to bring you closer and closer, and suddenly nam gyu is no longer just the guy you argue with over every musical detail-he's the one who looks at you in silence when you think you don't notice.

but success brings with it the weight of choices. the tour lengthens, tensions rise, and the distance between you becomes deeper than the music can bridge. as the band begins to crumble, you are faced with a question that is not just about the music: who are you when the lights go out? and who do you really want by your side when everything seems to fall apart?

SAURER SARG ( MEMBERS )

— the guitarist,, you

— the drummer ,, nam gyu

— the singer ,, choi su bong

— the bass player ,, se mi

DISCOGRAPHY ( SONGS )

20 years ( written by thanos )

" i'm twenty years old

and i don't give a shit, i have zero to prove to you

i'm not like you who give your soul to money

from the eyes of the pure you are only cowards "

hate ( written by thanos )

" let's spend the rest of life together tonight

life is being with you in bed, everything else is waiting

we own ourselves only the time we spend together

and to both of us so it fits "

malak ( written by thanos )

" something is moving (euphoria, i'm crazy about you)

it's us against the light (euphoria, i'm crazy about you)

the birth of another venus is you and me "

the essence of the universe ( written by se mi )

" this morning i was on my way to work

i thought i'm not like them

i am a fountain pen

ink on the skin of others, a means of making sense

to the dirt on the hands of those who dig into mental problems "

the man who loved women ( written by you )

" only you, forgetting you is hard

you were a little more

i liked the way you loved

how much of a man you are

if i'm not around

you consume me in a day

waiting for a farewell "

escort ( written by nam gyu )

" come on you are ashamed

we've been here for more than an hour, you get undressed

you don't want to throw your money away

you don't need the eyes excuse anymore

it's not a vice if i do it once in a while

do you mind if i call you once in a while?

i didn't think i liked you so much

if you keep it up I swear i'll have a heart attack "

goodbye ( written by thanos )

" i never really remember how i started

we never really stop when we start

if freedom is a teenager's mistake

to love without asking, to hate without understanding "

i want you ( written by nam gyu )

" you, i feel like you're terrorised

i have a feeling

i feel like telling you now

hey, i feel like love is good

it's such a big deal

i feel like telling you now "

FOR YOUR LOVE ( CHAPTERS )

i. years to grow

new chapters coming soon

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Rayllum + proposal???

(That one scene on the bridge REALLY seemed like it was leading up to a proposal, didn't it, or am I crazy? He made such a big deal about setting up that whole ridiculous spectacle for her and then it was just a regular date. I'm still salty about it lol)

Oh you definitely weren't the only person who thought that! It really did seem set up that way. Thanks for the prompt!! It was super fun to write.

Rayla’s breath hitched at the feeling of hand on her shoulder, her dreams dissipating as she jerked awake. Her eyes flew open— but still, she could make out only shadows. Her assailant had blindfolded her.

She smiled, stretched leisurely, and stood up, waiting for the familiar words. 

“Do you trust me?” Callum asked.

“I do.”

He took her hand and guided her from her bed, as he’d done every year on this night in the three since Aaravos’s defeat. His hand was warm in hers, sending beams of anticipation through her whole body as he led her down to the river. How would he outdo himself this year? She hadn’t thought anything could beat the musical serenade he’d set up the first time he’d done this, until she’d stood on the bridge with him two years ago and watched the glow toads, the shimmercrows, and Stella sail down the river on a raft covered in drawings of memories she and Callum had made. And surely nothing could compare to the moonberry surprise the raft had carried her last year. But that was being with Callum for you— you never knew what would come next, but you could count on it being more wonderful than you’d ever imagined.

It wasn’t long before the sounds of the rushing water filled Rayla’s ears, and she leaned into Callum as he helped her navigate the incline of the bridge. The movements practiced by now, she turned to face him, waiting for him to remove the scarf from around her eyes. When he did, though, concern flashed through her. His fingers were trembling against her skin. 

“Callum?” She caught his hands as they wrapped the scarf around her neck. “Is everything okay?”

“I hope so.”

Before she could ask him to elaborate, a familiar song echoed down the river, and she turned to see the glow of the raft as it made its way towards them. She leaned over the edge of the bridge, squinting, but she couldn’t see anything that would cause Callum to be so on edge. Bait, Stella, Hat, Sneezles, Jellygrab, Aaron, and Sam were all accounted for. In fact, the raft looked exactly the same as it had the first time she’d seen it, only something shimmered in the center of it. It was too small to be a weapon… some kind of primal stone? Or—

Rayla’s breath caught.

It wasn’t one thing. It was two. A pair of brilliant silver horn cuffs, moon opals shining in their centers. 

Rayla whirled on Callum, her heart pounding in her throat. “Callum— are those—"

“Yes,” he rasped. 

In a single motion, Rayla turned and leapt over the edge of the bridge, landing with a crash in the water below.

“Rayla!” Callum cried.

But she barely heard his voice, barely felt the cold, barely noticed the press of the water around her in her dash for the cuffs. The feeling of them in her hands, smooth and solid and real as the promise they represented— no fear could come close to overpowering that. 

Callum’s arms were around her a second later, pulling her out of the river and into the warmth of his embrace. She slid the cuffs over her horns and turned to him, beaming even through chattering teeth.

“What— how— why would you—" Callum gasped, fear and pride at war on his perfect features.

“I love them,” Rayla said, “and I love you, and yes, I want to marry you, and I wasn’t going to wait so much as a second to show you that.”

Callum let out a peal of laughter, giddy and disbelieving. “I had this whole speech planned, you know! I was going to tell you how much you mean to me, all the things I love about you, all the ways I want to be there for you…”

Rayla pressed a finger to his lips, then moved her hand to cup his cheek. “I don’t need to hear it. Because you show me, every day. And because you’re Callum. You’re brave and funny, clever and caring, and a thousand other things that I wouldn’t have enough time to list if we lived forever. You’re a hero— you’re my hero. And I want to be yours, for as long as we live. You are so…”

Words failed her, then, but she didn’t need them. She closed the distance between him, pressing her lips to his, and knew when she pulled away to see the sheen of tears in his eyes that he understood. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to be your husband.”

Unable to help herself, she grinned, elbowing him. “And have ten babies with me?”

Callum half-laughed, half-groaned. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Rayla smiled, kissing him lightly. “Not for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, speaking of children, our various animal dependents are waiting on us to steer them to shore before they reach the town.” Callum got to his feet and winked. “Race you to the raft, fiancée.”

He took off without a backward glance, and Rayla launched to her feet after him with a shriek of indignation. He would beat her, she knew, but she couldn’t bring a speck of herself to mind.

Fiancée.

Rayla was made of nothing but hope, nothing but love, lit from the inside out. She had never looked forward to her future more.

[arty-holly]

I will forever stay with the belief that the only reason luka won in Alien stage is bcz of his stage presence and not looking traumatized in front of live camera.

Bcz I was listening to Blink gone for the 2145th time and You can HEAR how perfectly matched they are and you just cannot compare them. It's like comparing luxurious ice cream and luxurious coffee. They're just too different. And even then, just because Till is forced to sing when he hadn't even processed Ivan's death and is still able to keep up with Luka is nothing short of mind-blowing. Just that honestly ranks him higher. And the composition of blink gone?? Violin and Electric guitar?? Who even thought of this bruh. It fits them.. way too well.

Luka is exactly what the aliens want him to be, perfect looks, melodious voice, catering to the audience but even then there's such a lack of emotion in his singing that yes it is perfect, but it's just another Persona, it shows nothing abt his true inner feelings. Till is in exact contrast to him in that he sings with so much passion and his feelings are just out there and that is his appeal. Till feels every word he sings and its obvious from the way he begins Blink gone. There's this.. finality to it. (He’s talking abt Evan🥲) But it's so clear Till is the musical genius here bcz he adds so many extra details in his music. For example, Till's bit at 0:46 in Blink gone where he growls the last line like, Luka cannot do stuff like that on the spot. And it's so fitting that they have bars instead of scoreboards bcz throughout the song that is exactly what is happening. Both of them fluctuate. Musically, Luka maintains the score with his perfect vocals but Till can't feel the words he sings anymore and it's visible in the middle of the song. And THEN he sees Mizi and all the hope comes flooding back and his voice does a dip when he sings Blink gone right at 2:46 ( coincidence?). Till absolutely finished Luka at the end and he should've won, but Luka is the better performer and fan favourite so we got the bullshit that was Round 7.

I have to admit tho, they poured everything they had into the music bcz they couldn't use dialogue and still traumatized thousands of people.

The writers, song directors and voice actors truly cooked with this show. They do so many unique things in it. I even heard flute music which I've never heard in korean music. Hyuna's voice stands out not only as the only girl who we hear sing more loud music but also in her role as a rebel. Sua's voice was almost childlike, brief but sweet, exactly as her presence in the show🥲. Mizi's music and voice has a maturity and melds well with the rest of the cast. (Never gonna stop crying over Mizisua). Evan, this man has perfected heartbreak through music and i love how deep his voice is. (His death had too much poetic beauty).

And Luka, The music is amazing in the show but the writing is also so top tier. Luka sings like he's stuck in a pit of his own making and is making up personas of himself to stay sane. He acts and manipulates but at the end, he just wants to live. I do think he's beyond saving at this point. But his music and voice is too good. Honorable mentions would be that one whistle in ruler of my heart( I hate that I thought that was hot) and 0:15 in Blink gone where he shifts from his normal style of singing to a more pop version. Luka has the most gentle soothing voice and the personality which is the antithesis of that.

Conclusion:- The Aliens are fucking stupid bcz imagine letting talent like this die. Do they not realize that combos like Till and Luka come once in a blue moon? I was under the impression they wanted to hear good music.

K, Imma go listen to Blink Gone for the 2146th time.

I love when Music is interwoven and is the subject of a show. Plz recommend if you guys know any other shows like this.

[ensemblewives]

I really want to stress how the cultural and imperialistic elements are the biggest point here, even if you like Ibuki in Akatsuki, please look at the bigger picture: this company, not for the first time mind you, has been using its very successful well-loved game to promote imperialistic messages, which are not just harmful to broad audiences (it normalises it, is disheartning to those effected by imperialistic Japan (Korean fans), and is promoting racist ideas about minority cultural groups). This has been happening for a while now, they've been slowly inserting more of these ideas into the stories, the art, and the MVs, but now it is really just the tipping point because it is so blatantly about imperalistic views and values that it doesn't matter what you think about the characters; think of how they are used as tools for this company: taking a character written on purpose to be from a certain heritage (like, they could have made him from any other background, he's not a real person, this was on purpose) and showing him going through an arc that 'fixes' his 'bad' behaviours as he assmillates to the 'good' Japanese culture, and then showing that culminating by LITERALY JOINING THE JAPANESE-CULTURE GROUP, in a MV that has very clear rising run imagery. This isn't about characters, this isn't about a game, this is about a company trying to insert its harmful beliefs into a popular game and hoping no one would notice, or worse, that we would accept it as normal and cheer it on, and keep giving them money to support the promotion of these ideas.

[koishua]

growing up on diff kpop gens with my younger sister this is wild bc her le sserafim/nwjns/illit/kiof was my snsd/aoa/apink/girls' day/exid/gfriend/rv :( 4th/5th gen vs 2nd/3rd gen have CRAZY different energies it's fascinating

[magicalgirl6]

I'm sure it's been talked about to death, but I just finished yuki yuna season 1 and wanted to talk about it. To be clear, this is fully my own thoughts and opinions. I think it's fully valid if other people feel differently. Also, I don't have the same disabilities as any of the characters, so I can't speak on representation of anything specific.

There were things I liked about the ending for sure. Yuna and Tougou had some very sweet moments, and I liked the emphasis on Yuna recovering through her own willpower rather than the gods' influence

But man I cannot overlook their disabilities being cured…

I understand, from a narrative perspective, that if a major part of the conflict is the gods taking away functionality in parts of your body as offerings, than the solution is taking it back from the gods. I understand that, if they didn't, it might feel like they lost. But they could still fight to break out of / change the system without all their losses being undone in the end!

I don't like disabilities being cured at the end of a story because it sends the message that you can't be disabled and have a happy ending. Like, being cured is the only happy ending. And I know the show wasn't trying to send this message, or at least I don't think it was, because Tougou had plenty of happy moments throughout the series. She was well-written as a wheelchair user, at least as far as I can tell as someone who doesn't use one. I think they did really well with her. But the ending still leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it does still imply that this was the only solution for them.

And I don't think there's anything wrong with the characters being upset after becoming disabled, or it messing with their self worth. Disability can be scary, especially when it's new, and in cases like Itsuki's it can mess with people's aspirations and drastically change the trajectory of people's lives. I think that that's accurate and real. I think they're allowed to be angry and upset for having so much taken from them. But I don't think them getting it back sends the best message to the audience. (And I feel like some of the stuff the characters said about Sonoko seemed kind of offensive? But idk if that was just the translation in the version of the subtitles I had)

I don't think I'll ever recover from my disability. It drastically messes with my life, it makes many things way more difficult, but I know it's not going away. I'm not mad about it anymore. I'm okay. I can still be happy and have a good life. So a story where the characters fully recover doesn't feel inspirational or motivating to me, it feels uncomfortable. I know disabilities can sometimes be recovered from, and I'm not trying to dismiss anyone's experiences, but as someone who won't recover, I'd find it much better to see characters thrive AND stay disabled.

It would still be a victory for them if they didn't have to fight and sacrifice anymore. It would still be a victory for them to keep on living after everything. They don't need a full recovery to be heroes.

[alexjcrowley]

Physically fighting the urge to make an edit of Eduard Limonov and Iosif Brodskij to Girl, so confusing

[numbknee]

South park fan

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

OKAY SO it may be almost two hours past midnight for me and it may be season 4 in 2 minutes BUT I am going to make this post lol. So, it's time for HSMTMTS Appreciation Week Day Four: Favorite Episode/Season!

Honestly I don't think I have one of either xD

I love all the episodes, and most of the time when someone asks me for my favorite of something (like books or movies) I just go with the one that has the most rewatch/reread quality/potential. So, some of these episodes may just be the ones I watch the most lol.

Each season has their pros and cons for me, but I will say I think I enjoy season 2 more than most people! The ending isn't amazing, sure, but it has some really great music, ship moments, acting, and Wildcat family moments :).

Season 1, they're not all family for a little while, and we don't have as much development on some of the others, nor most of the ships. But it's also fun that it's the most grounded season lol, and it just has a special charm. Also, it really focuses on the musical lol!

And season 3, obviously I miss Seb, Big Red, Mr. Mazzara, and half Nini and Ms. Jen from it :). And sometimes the drama is a lot, but at the same time, there's so many cute and fun moments, it is absolutely HILARIOUS, and the change of setting is super cool :). Since I'm a multi shipper, it's also a con for Portwell and a pro for Rina lol xD.

Anyway! Now, a few of my favorite episodes :).

Season 2 Episode 5: is this one a surprise even xD. I love Seblos, I love the Wildcats, and I love great music! What more could you ask for? Also, it's just so sweet that they'd throw a big party for one of their friends like that :'). And it's especially cool seeing Carlos be appreciated <3. Plus, it gave us "I never learned how to lie", so you know xDD.

Season 2 Episode 10: LISTEN. Again, is it partly because of Seblos lol? . . Sh xD. But seriously, it's great Seblos drama, the music is once again amazing, and I LOVE the sleepovers :D!! The recipe for my favorite episodes is really just Seblos, Music, Wildcats xD. Lol. But seriously, it's such a good episode <3.

Season 1 Episode 6: Maybe it's just because it hits home, which is weird because that makes it bittersweet, but I love this episode. It's really focused more on them being a family than any of the ships (which is interesting and a nice change of pace :) ) and it has some great music! Plus, the photoshoot lol. And of course, a few Seblos moments, and some lovely Carlos angst xD. Justice for the Seblos deleted scenes 😤😔. Lol, but yeah, I love this episode <3.

Season 1 Episode 7: Again, my Wildcats xD. I was hesitating to put this on here because the end hurts me so much, but it's just too good :). We have Carlos inviting everyone to someone else's house (for the first time, I think, lol), Ricky and Nini being chill for a bit, Gina being adorable, and the start of Redlyn 👀. Lol, remember when one of the half jokingly proposed ship names was Big Rashlyn xD? Bring it baaaack lol, we deserve it. In a good way, not as punishment xD. Anyway! The real star of the show this episode, though, is of course the party :). We love the Wildcats being family, and I seriously love them all so much <3. And again, Seblos moment lol. The music is good this episode (I adore Out of The Old), but there's not too much of it lol, so I forgot to mention it and came back here after the next paragraph xD.

Season 3 Episode 7: LISTENNN. Once again, I can do anything I want xD. I think I said that earlier, or maybe in one of the other posts, but nonetheless lol. I say it a lot regarding things like this lol. Anyway! Obviously, SEBBB!!! HE RETURNS TO ME :'DDD!! But we also have Ricky's bucket list (ADORABLE) and everyone's ICONIC outfits :D. So sorry to Portwell though :( xd. That does hurt throughout the episode lol. Oh, and of course we have the iconic welcoming of Ashlyn to the community :'). And Wouldn't Change a Thing!!! Such a slay :D. Honestly though, I love the ending, like, after the dance. I don't know if I love it more than the prom itself, but seeing the guys come together and support each other, and the same for the girls, with a BOPPING song in the background? Amazing :'D. And, of course lol, Seblos moments <3. And the second Seblos kiss!! I love them so much :). And, like I said, amazing music!!

Season 3 Episode 5: This one is just so hilarious xD. I had to include it lol. Plus, :O drama a bleeped out curse on HSMTMTS!! We don't get many so that's a slay for being unique xD. Also yes, Carlos totally deserves it 😌😤. Like, to get one lol. Just like Natalie, lol. Anyway!! Yeah, this is so funny xD. It also has great music!! The drama hurts, of course, but we love the little moments of supporting each other xd. And again, I just have to mention how FUNNY it is, those moments xD. Plus, the fact that it's all (well, yk. Mostly xD) a plot is amazing lol. I just love this episode lol.

So yeah!! I think that'll do it for today :). I probably won't be on Season 4 for a bit tomorrow, as in it'll take me a little while lol. I still need to finish my rewatch xD. But, I will watch it!!! And I'm so excited :)) 🥰.

[musical-chick-13]

Oh you KNOW it's bad if I make a character playlist and a ship playlist.

[aberooski]

It's astounding how one thing can ruin your entire day and destroy your entire emotional state.

[dilf-hunter-fantasies]

fantasizing about…

Sneaking filthy mouthed dbf!joel miller into your dorm room to fuck you on your xl twin size bed in front of your ten dollar Walmart floor length mirror.

2.7k words 🍒 warnings: explicit smut, no outbreak, age gap, female reader, f masturbation, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, creampie, use of: daddy, darlin', girl, baby, praise and teasing

click here for more of my writing

shout out to everyone who supported my first little fic about bf joel!

let me know if you wanna be tagged for more joel fantasies

Joel grumbled and fussed the whole way up the back stairwell when you snuck him onto your floor. And it was so late you didn’t even have to bribe a friend to run interference with your RA. And when you get into your closet sized room and lock the door he has more complaints!

Bitching about how he’s too old to be sneaking around and worrying about some 20 year old kicking him out. His gravelly drawl is music to your ears though, even if he’s got nothing positive to say.

“Joel,” you warn, but the way your name falls from his lips a second later unravels you completely.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he murmurs, hooking a finger into the waistband of your sweatpants. He tugs you closer, his free hand sliding under your shirt to rest warm against the small of your back.

“Missed you.” It’s a whisper when you let the words slip out.

“I know,” he rumbles back at you.

You don’t linger on his response thought, not with his mouth already brushing against yours, rough and sure and utterly Joel. You kiss him back, hard and needy, tangling your fingers in his soft curls.

His growl hums low in his chest as his hands gripped your hips, firm and possessive, steering you back until the edge of your bed hit the backs of your knees.

Then he’s slipping his hand into your sweats and nothing else matters but the touch of his rough, working man hands against your smooth skin. When he dips beneath the hem of your panties you gasp and he chuckles, a low, husky sound.

“Shit, darlin’,” he rasps. “She missed me that bad? Got ya tremblin’ already?”

“I told you I missed you.” You make a pouty frown in the dim light.

“You still ain’t find a college boy to keep her purrin’?”

“Fuck n-no,” you choke out the last word as his hand skims lower. “Need a real man.”

“Yeah,” he reluctantly grumbles, “and here I am, at your beck and call.”

When his thick fingers part your slick folds, your breath catches in your throat. When Joel finds just how fucking wet you are for him a scowl depends the lines of his face.

“Oh, this is bad, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

“Bad?”

“Yeah, ya know…bad. As in, no good? Thought you had to be smart to get into college?” He mocks you with his low, manly drawl. But at the same time, he drags his slick coated fingers from your messy entrance to your clit.

Your knees start to wobble. You got so caught up the second he touched you that you’d froze in place, just standing there dumbly while his hand dove between your legs. Weakly, your dig your fingers into his soft flannel shirt for support, biting down on your lip to dampen a moan when he starts rubbing circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“You been neglecting her all week? She’s gushin�� on me like she never been touched by a man before, and we both know that ain’t true.

“No,” you argue weakly, eyes fluttering shut as he works you with the precision of a man who knows exactly what you need. “Jus’ not the same as when you do it.” 

He retracts his hand, your waistband snaps back, and you glare at him for edging you like that. “Hey—” 

“Show me.”

“No, Joel, please.” You whine needily, “Need your fingers or,” you rest your hand over the bulge in his jeans, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your next words come out as a whipser. “Or this.” 

He exhales slowly and you can feel the air in the room shifting. A stern look pulls his brows together and his eyes are dark as midnight. “You gonna argue with your Daddy now, girl?” 

Your face flushes with heat, cheeks burning at the question, and your cunt clenches so hard you squirm. You’ve almost let it slip a few times, but you’ve never called him Daddy before. Not in all the hookups you’ve had since that first summer night. The night when you’d both crossed the line you’ll never regret. 

You shake your head.

“Use your words now, darlin’. I know you can do it.” 

You take a breath to steady yourself before continuing. “M’sorry, Daddy. Not gonna argue, just need you bad.” 

“C’mere,” he says, sitting on the edge of your twin sized mattress. He pats his lap, expectantly. You move to straddle his lap, but he stops you. 

“No, baby,” he spins you by the hips, “face forward. You’re gonna show me how you take care of her when I’m not around. But I’ll letcha sit on my lap.”

Joel’s hands move deliberately, peeling your shirt off and tugging your sweats down, leaving you completely bare. He stays fully dressed, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing against the soft skin of your thighs as he pulls you onto his lap. The thick bulge pressing against your bare ass makes you moan, grinding against him instinctively. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you still.

“Easy, baby,” he rasps, his breath hot against your neck. “Ain’t even started yet, and you’re already so needy.”

His lips trail over your shoulder, his stubble scraping your skin as he kisses and bites, marking you with soft growls of approval. One of his hands moves up, cupping your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple while the other slides between your legs.

“Go on,” he rumbles against your ear. “Let Daddy see how she likes it.”

Your cheeks burn, but you obey, your fingers trembling as they find your clit. Joel watches in the mirror across from the bed, his dark eyes locking on yours as you rub slow, teasing circles over your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Look at that,” he says, his voice low and rough. “That’s real pretty, darlin’.”

Joel’s grip tightens on your hips as your fingers work your clit, his eyes fixed on the mirror. His voice is rough, almost taunting. “Don’t be shy now, girl. I know you’ve done this before. Bet you’ve been thinkin’ about me every time, haven’t you?”

You whimper, your motions faltering, but Joel doesn’t let up. His hand slides up to your breast, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. “Keep goin’. Don’t make me do all the work.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—skin beading with sweat, mouth parted, your body trembling on his lap. Joel’s gaze stays glued to it, and he smirks. “There she is. Knew you’d be a good girl if I told you how.”

His free hand moves down, gripping your thigh as you rub faster, the pleasure building unbearably. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t stop until I tell you. Wanna see exactly how you make yourself cum when I’m not around.”

Your fingers move faster, the slick sounds filling the room, and Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens. “That’s it,” he growls. “Look at yourself. Drippin’ all over me like the needy little thing you are.”

The tension in your body coils tighter, and a soft cry escapes your lips as you teeter on the edge. Joel’s smirk deepens, and he leans closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Don’t hold back now. Make a fuckin’ mess for me.”

Your body obeys, the pleasure cresting all at once as your orgasm tears through you. Your legs shake, and you gasp, grinding helplessly against Joel’s lap as your fingers work frantically. He chuckles low and dark, watching you ride out your high.

“Good girl,” he rasps, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Knew you had it in you. But don’t think we’re done yet.”

He shifts his hips, the thick bulge in his jeans pressing harder against your bare, oversensitive core. His hands skim up to your tits, squeezing roughly as he murmurs, “Gonna give you something to think about the next time she’s achin’ for me and I’m not here.”

You’re still shaky when the words slip out, breathless and desperate. “Need you inside me, Daddy.” 

Joel groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses you down harder against his lap. “Already beggin’? Thought you’d last a little longer than this.” 

“Can’t,” you whimper, your voice breaking. “Need it bad.” 

He chuckles darkly, his lips curling into a smirk. 

He shifts you forward, and the sound of his zipper echoes in the small room as he frees himself from his jeans. The thick, flushed length of his cock presses against your folds, and you shudder, the heat and size of him making you ache with anticipation. 

Joel strokes himself lazily, dragging the tip through your slick, and growls low in his throat. “Gonna stretch this tight little pussy so good, you’ll be feelin’ me for days.” 

“Please,” you whisper again, your hand reaching back to grip his wrist. “I’m ready.” 

“Ready?” He laughs, the sound rough and mocking. “Look at her, baby. She’s so fuckin’ desperate she’s droolin’ on me. You think she’s ready?”

Joel doesn’t wait for your answer. His grip on your hips tightens, and he shifts you just enough to line himself up. The blunt head of his cock presses against your entrance, catching on your slick folds as he holds you there, teasing. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, dragging his tip up and down and smearing your wetness along his huge, veiny shaft. “She’s so fuckin’ messy already, and I haven’t even started.” 

You try to sink down, but his hands keep you still. “Ah, ah,” he chides. 

“We do this how I say. Gotta let Daddy ease you open first.” His tone and the way he takes control makes your eyes nearly roll back. And then he starts to work his fat cock into your warm, wet cunt. 

The first push is devastating. 

Joel groans as the thick head of his cock stretches you wide, your body resisting before giving way, inch by inch. It’s such an intense sensory experience. He’s so hard you can feel his pulse in his dick, every pump of blood beating a steady rhythm as your body adjusts to the intrusion.  

The stretch burns, overwhelming and perfect all at once, and you gasp, your nails digging into his thighs for balance. “Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice tight. “She’s so tight, it’s like she’s never been fucked before.” 

You can only nod, your breath hitching as he sinks deeper, the obscene wet sounds filling the air. Joel watches the mirror, his dark eyes glued to where his cock disappears into you, stretching you wide. 

“Look at her,” he grunts, his hand sliding up your stomach to grip your chin. He tilts your head forward, forcing your gaze to the reflection. “Watch how she takes me. Watch how fuckin’ perfect she looks creamin’ all over my cock.”

Joel’s hips flex, driving himself deeper, and your jaw drops at the sheer fullness, the way he stretches you far past what should be possible. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, his voice raspy and uneven. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby. Thought this little college pussy couldn’t handle it, but look at her. Greedy as hell.” 

The mirror captures everything—the way your body shudders with each push, the shiny mess coating his thick length as it glides in and out, and the dark, possessive look in Joel’s eyes as he watches you take him. 

His words register dimly in your mind, making you giggle as you bounce on him. “You’re such a dirty old man. Probably been dreaming for–ah–for ages about having your own college slut to fuck.” 

He growls, one hand sliding to your lower stomach. He presses down just enough to make you gasp. “You said ya wanted a man, now you’ve got one inside you…so, watch.” 

Your head lolls against him, but you watch in the mirror. Where he’s drilling into your sloppy, drooling cunt.

“Feel how deep I am? Fuckin’ you so good you’ll feel me in your guts tomorrow.” 

You whimper, your body clenching around him, and Joel laughs low in his chest. “Shit, you like that, don’t you? Filthy girl. Sittin’ here on Daddy’s cock, makin’ a fuckin’ mess.” His rhythm picks up, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathless moans filling the room. 

Joel’s hand dips between your legs, his rough fingers finding your clit and circling it just hard enough to make your thighs quiver. “Rub it for me,” he orders, his voice dark and commanding. “Wanna feel you gush while I’m buried in this tight little cunt.”

He’s fucking you so deep you swear you can feel his dick in your lungs. All you can do is pant out desperate moans and curses, getting more and more frantic as he drives up into you.

“Fuck, holy s-shit, oh, oh, oh my god Joel, I-I’m gonna cum,”

You’re nearly wailing the closer you get. You can’t restrain your voice anymore. Not when the only thing you can think--no--the only thing that exists, is the sweet bliss when he hits that perfect spot inside of you. Your fingers work furiously, chasing the release, the pressure in you has you strung taut, ready to snap—or scream. 

Joel clamps a massive hand over your mouth, his palm pressing firmly against your lips. The sharp, possessive motion sends a shudder down your spine, and your cunt clenches around him so hard he groans.

“Quiet,” he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t need the whole fuckin’ dorm wakin’ up just to hear you screamin’ my name.” 

You moan, muffled by his big hand, and gush around his cock at the thought of people hearing both of you. 

His voice dips lower, laced with dark amusement. “Or maybe you do. Huh? Wanna let all the boys on campus know exactly who fucks this pussy? Who you’re Daddy is?”

The taunt pushes you right over the edge. Your body spasms violently as your orgasm slams into you, your walls pulsing around him like a vice. You’re soaking him and dripping onto his thighs, the wet, filthy sound driving his hips even harder.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans, his rhythm faltering as he feels you milking his cock. “You’re fuckin’ unreal, baby. Such a dirty little thing. Can’t get enough, can you?”

Your head is spinning, your body limp against his as the waves of pleasure roll through you. Joel doesn’t let up, though, his thrusts relentless.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice thick and strained. “She’s fuckin’ sopping wet, clenching so tight.”

Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pounds into you, harder and faster. The wet, obscene sound of his cock driving into your soaked cunt fills the room, and the pressure in his movements tells you he’s close.

“You feel that?” he rasps, his hand slipping from your mouth to cup your jaw, tilting your head so you can see the mirror. “Look at her, baby. Look how perfect she looks takin’ every inch of me. This pussy was made for me.”

You’re too far gone to respond, your lips parted and your breath coming in shallow pants. But the way your body contracts around him is answer enough, and Joel curses low under his breath, his thrusts growing erratic.

“Gonna fill you up,” he grunts. 

With one final thrust, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his cock twitching inside you as he spills hot and thick ropes of cum, filling you to the brim. The heat of his release pushes you into another shuddering climax, your body clutching him so tightly, milking every last drop.

Joel stays still for a moment, his chest heaving against your back. His lips brush against your ear, and he murmurs, “Mine. All fuckin’ mine.”

He dips his head, kissing and nipping at your neck, the hinge of your jaw, along the top of  your shoulder. Your breathing starts to settle as he soothes you with his ministrations. When he sucks hard enough to leave a mark on your shoulder, you smile dazedly, unbothered. 

You hope he marks every inch of your flesh. 

Because you are his. 

And you wish everyone could know. 

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[sleepyhoon]

THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH

pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader

genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).

word count. 12.2k+

warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]

summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.

a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion.  also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!

When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.

Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.

By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.

The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.

Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”

Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”

She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”

Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”

You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?

Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.

It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway. 

All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.

“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.

“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.

Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”

Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.

When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.

The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ��unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.

Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?

Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process. 

The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.

Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.

You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.

So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.

A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?

“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.

You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”

“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.

She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”

Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing. 

You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.

Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”

The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.

Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”

She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.

While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

This really is worse than Halloween 2007.

“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”

“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”

You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”

Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.

Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.

“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”

“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”

“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”

“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you.” 

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.

And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes. 

You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. 

Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”

Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.

There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.

Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.

“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.

“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.

He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.

“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.

“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”

Great.

You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”

Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.

It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.

After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.

Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.

Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.

One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.

The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.

You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.

He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.

Men.

He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”

You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”

Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”

He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”

You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”

This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”

A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”

Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.

He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends. 

Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.

“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”

Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.

“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”

Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yell at you? For what?”

“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”

“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.

He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”

You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.

You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.

Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.

Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.

You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.

To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other. 

The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.

But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.

“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.

He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”

“That doesn’t even sound possible.”

“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.” 

It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.

Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.

When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words. 

Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now. 

You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”

Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.

If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.

You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do. 

His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.

Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.

“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”

Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.

Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”

Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”

In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?

You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”

What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.

“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.

“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”

“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to. 

Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”

The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her. 

You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”

Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”

Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.

Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.

“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”

You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.

Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.

That other part was probably true, though.

You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best. 

Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.

Fuck, are you really about to do this? 

Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween. 

But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.

Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.

“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”

Thank God.

After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way. 

You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.

The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.

Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”

The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.

Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”

You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”

You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.

This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off. 

He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.

You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.

Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.

“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”

They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”

“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.

“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.

“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”

Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.

Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.

“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”

“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”

“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”

Minnie? Fuck is that about?

Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”

“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.

“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”

You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”

On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…

“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.

Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.

Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.

Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.

“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.

“What?! Why?!”

“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”

This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.

Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”

“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.

Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”

He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.

It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”

Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”

“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”

Halloween fucking sucks.

You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you. 

He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”

Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”

It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.

You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.

Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.

He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.

What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.

Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.

"And say what? That I'm with you?"

Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."

That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.

You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.

As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.

Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"

"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You hate that even now, you find him cute.

"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.

"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."

Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"

"The full story isn't important, Yuna."

"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."

"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."

Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.

You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."

"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."

"And what will I get out of this?"

Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know…a normal older sister?"

"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"

Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.

"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."

You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."

"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.

As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.

You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you. 

What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.

You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.

"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."

"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."

Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you. 

Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night. 

You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.

"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump. 

He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".

You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"

Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.

"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.

The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.

The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.

The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.

Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.

Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.

The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.

"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock. 

He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.

The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.

Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.

After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.

The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"

"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.

"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."

Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.

He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.

"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."

Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader. 

"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon. 

"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.

The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.

On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily. 

Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.

You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat. 

When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.

Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like,  telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um,  later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.

And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."

You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.

you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*

you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much

you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please

yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/

Harsh but true.

You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.

Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."

Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat. 

The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.

Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.

You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.

"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.

You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.

"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"

Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"

"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.

"Um…yeah. I know."

"Okay…how?"

"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"

"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."

Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.

Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."

"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.

"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."

You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.

You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.

You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.

Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"

You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."

He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"

When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."

"It isn't."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"

This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.

Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.

In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?

Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.

You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.

He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."

You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.

"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.

You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."

Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."

"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.

Fuck.

"Sunghoon…"

"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction. 

You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.

He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him. 

His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.

Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.

"Wait, Sunghoon—!"

Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."

You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.

His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.

Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.

Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"

"No, please don't." You beg.

"So this is okay then, right?"

If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"

Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.

You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.

It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.

But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.

The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.

The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."

He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the 

front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."

It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.

"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.

You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away. 

"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body. 

He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.

After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.

"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."

He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.

You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.

Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.

You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.

"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"

He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."

It's music to his ears, really.

Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.

"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.

"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."

He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."

You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."

Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.

Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.

Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.

He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.

You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"

"Please, I need you to."

Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.

The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.

He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.

"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."

"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.

He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.

You nod, "Please, keep going."

He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.

The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.

Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.

Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.

He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."

Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."

He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."

"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."

Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.

"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.

"Yeah, why?"

"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."

You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"

"I can pay for your Uber home."

"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."

"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."

You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"

"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."

Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.

"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.

Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.

The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place. 

In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days. 

Three weeks. And Three days.

[ilookattextile]

I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.

On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result. 

Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful. 

I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned. 

When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura. 

A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.

I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me. 

Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad. 

This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.

I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves. 

I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this. 

Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago.