#Standardized departure

[thekimspoblog]

Is the video game really subverting its genre? Are you sure it's not just doing clever things within its genre, because otherwise the game would be boring and unchallenging and say nothing interesting? I'm just saying, it's cool and all that the internet allows horror game fandoms to overflow into eachother, but not EVERY 2 hour video essay needs to be spent breathlessly sucking off the devs. Sometimes a game is just REGULAR difficult and REGULAR high-quality.

Besides RPGs made over a decade ago, what is the thing supposedly subverting? Clearly not other contemporary indie horror games, because there is clearly a convergent ethos forming of cosmic horror and beginners' traps; that's just what the genre looks like nowadays.

[stereotypical-jew]

okay. so. i did not vibe with the latest doctor who episode a lot? and idk why exactly. i did still enjoy it for the most part! do love that we're getting more explicit queer romance on the show, but idk it didn't feel...genuine? especially with the doctor saying that ruby's his best friend but then abandoning her to aliens for most of the episode. i'm like really feeling that the overarching plot must be about storytelling. like especially all the blatant references to bridgerton INCLUDING the bad guys and poker face covers. and the teaser line about it being the doctor's life they're playing out. i'm hoping that the arc is kind of about how something (pantheon character?) is kind of controlling the doctor/ruby's story to hit the beats it's supposed to bc its tv but is doing so in a non-organic way which is why the season feels so disjointed and very telling-not-showing. also the weird 6 month time jump between Space Babies and Boom. otherwise i'mgonna feel like it was just kind of poorly written. like! to be clear! i am still enjoying the show! but not as much as i have other seasons

[honeynclove]

why do genshin fans get so pissy when u mention hsr is a better game for ftps 😭😭

[premiumgelato]

[angelsanctuarys]

what did you think about Perfume Of The Timeless!!

I personally liked it, I think it gives a small hint of what the whole album is going to be without making it super obvious. Which is the point of a single, to just give a taste, a nudge.

Also, mark my words, the song is not going to be the 1st of the list, there's going to be at least 1 behind it that will connect to those initial drums.

Sidenote but oh joy of joys on that 5:30 mark where finally we make a return to a much missed element that I was weeping for: letting emppu going berserk and bring those gorgeous heavy riffs back to life with enough force to revive the dead!

[journey-to-the-attic]

We know what goes on between them in DDVD, but would Lucifer and Zhao ever take an interest in each other in mainline JTTA?

it's not an impossibility! if they're compatible in ddvd, they'd still be in jtta, since zhao is still very much the same person at his core - the main difference is that, in ddvd, zhao doesn't have the time to make the mistakes he does in jtta, since he ends up in the devildom. ultimately he is still the same pathetic little man who is full of love but never knows how to express it

it'd take a while for them to actually see each other in that light, though - it'd only really become viable once zhao is at least significantly on his way to making up for how lonely ik's home life has been. before that, lucifer's disdain in regards to it would stop him from entertaining the fact that he finds zhao kind of cute

also in ddvd, i'd say it's only after getting down to the devildom that zhao realises he also likes men, so zhao in baseline jtta is even MORE repressed about being bi - which is another hurdle he's gonna have to cross before he even thinks about the fact he might have an interest in that demon dude who's adopted his kid

(also if we want to be sappy perhaps it's just a matter of zhaolu finding each other in every reality )!

[jorvikzelda]

if there’s one thing about me it’s that my shoes are ALWAYS going to set off the beep machine at airport security

[coachbeards]

i really have made some peace with the beardjane endgame ending, not because i think they're a good healthy couple, but because like. i knew they weren't going to break them up lmao. i knew it. i think they had a good opportunity to do it after mom city, but i knew they wouldn't.

now, i don't think beard is happy in his marriage, and there's definitely that ted-shaped hole that jane unfortunately cant fill (and she hates beard for that, and ted, too)......... i think he tries, like a lot. i really do think he tries to force himself to be happy. they keep going to codependents anonymous, beard probably begs her to agree to couples counseling.........they have a baby that needs both of them, and he isn't happy. and he hates himself even more that he's not happy, because he...should be, right? this is the life people should be happy with. a good job, a wife, a baby........

[morkaischosen]

The Pathfinder angle does deserve to be the headline there, though - Lancer didn't attract its initial playerbase by openly selling itself as Not 4e.

People rallied against 4e for being well designed? I always heard it was because it was too much like WoW.

D&D 4e being too much like WoW is one of those things that's true in places (it actually had design informed by WoW among other things but a lot of said design was actually remodeled to actually work in the context of tabletop game instead of trying to lazily transplant mechanics from a video game directly into a tabletop game), but ultimately is just a lazy shorthand for "it's like bideo gane therefore bad." On a deeper level D&D 4e wasn't rejected "just" because it was too much like videos game but because its designers actually took a look at all the things taken as default in D&D and actually considered how conducive they were to the experience people were seemingly looking for from D&D (D&D 4e being built to be a fun skirmish game didn't come out of nowhere: it was a response to people basically playing D&D 3e like that and finding the game too unbalanced to serve that experience).

Funnily enough, in being willing to reconsider what people actually wanted out of D&D, 4e is actually the edition of Hasbro D&D most aligned with what people seem to actually want out of D&D these days. A lot of the common design issues people bring up with 5e are issues that D&D 4e already rectified once and 5e actually walked back on because they wanted to get back the purists who had rejected 4e for not being D&D-shaped enough.

[ghcstao3]

ghost having a missing tooth. just a lateral incisor, lost it only a few years into the military, never bothered to have it properly replaced. he has a retainer with a fake tooth, sure, but that’s a special occasion sort of thing—because why would he wear something for cosmetic purposes when his face is hidden behind a mask most of the time?

but when he and soap start going out, particularly on leave, ghost suddenly finds himself self-conscious and constantly wearing that retainer. even makes the stupid decision of eating with it in on occasion just because he doesn’t want soap seeing the gap in his smile. which is weird for ghost, because he’s never felt embarrassed by it before—but maybe with soap and his perfect smile, it makes ghost feel like he’s lacking in contrast.

soap finds out on leave, when their departures were staggered and ghost arrived home two days later than soap. he never bothered with the retainer that day, too tired from travel and work, and doesn’t realize it’s missing until he’s pulling off his standard civilian-get-up-surgical-mask and smiling at soap in greeting.

it’s clear that soap notices immediately. his eyes flicker to the smile and a furrow finds his brow as he asked what happened in the past two days he was gone that had ghost missing a tooth.

ghost’s smile fades instantaneously before he ducks his head and mechanically utters out an explanation.

then soap asks to see his smile again. insists until ghost finally offers up a grimace, then contemplates it a moment before deeming it cute, of all things.

it’s only natural from there that soap does anything in his power to make ghost smile, because the missing tooth is something charming in a way soap can’t explain. it’s just so very ghost, and how could soap not love that?

[princesssarisa]

Disney's unconventional "Cinderella" (1950) (long)

Having watched most of the many adaptations of Cinderella, I've come to realize what a unique adaptation Disney's 1950 animated classic really is. Unlike Snow White, which only had a few stage and screen adaptations before Disney produced its groundbreaking film, Cinderella had already been adapted many times before Disney's turn came, and Disney's version makes a surprising number of departures from the standard Cinderella "formula." It was definitely a fresh, creative Cinderella when it made its debut, and it arguably still is. Yet because it's become so familiar in pop culture, and today so often serves as our childhood introduction to the tale, it's easy to overlook its inventive storytelling choices. The 2015 live action remake uses several classic Cinderella adaptation tropes that the original 1950 film actually subverts!

Here's a list of the often-overlooked ways in which Disney's Cinderella stands out from earlier adaptations, and from many later ones too.

Cinderella herself. Disney's Cinderella isn't a traditional Cinderella in personality. The "traditional" portrayal of Cinderella, seen in virtually every adaptation before Disney's and several afterwards too, is the portrayal I call "The Waif": a very young, fragile, melancholy girl, dressed in pathetic rags and smudged with ashes, who makes the audience want to rescue her and who wins the Prince's heart with her wide-eyed innocence and artless charm. But whether chiefly to set her apart from earlier screen Cinderellas or from Disney's earlier delicate ingenue Snow White, Disney's Cinderella is none of those things. She comes across as older, or at least more sophisticated. Nor is she waif-like, but instead combines down-to-earth warmth with ladylike dignity, even at her lowliest. She doesn't sit in the ashes ("Cinderella" is her real name in this version), and her servants' dress is humble yet clean and only slightly tattered. She's gentle and kind, yes, but also intelligent, practical, playful, sometimes sarcastic, philosophical, optimistic, genuinely cheerful when she's with her animal friends, and yet angrier and stronger-willed than virtually all earlier Cinderellas. She doesn't beg to go to the ball, but asserts her right to go, and then sets to work fixing up an old dress of her mother's for herself. Only her stepfamily's sabotage, first by keeping her too busy to finish the dress, and then by destroying it after the mice and birds finish it for her, prevents her from taking herself to the ball without a Fairy Godmother. To this day, she stands out as a complex, unique Cinderella, which pop culture too often forgets.

Lady Tremaine. Some critics today complain that Disney makes Cinderella's stepmother a total monster instead of giving her "nuance" and call her portrayal "sexist." But can't we agree that her sheer cruelty enhances the film's dramatic power? And compared to earlier portrayals of Cinderella's Stepmother, it definitely makes her stand out. In most pre-Disney Cinderellas and many after, the Stepmother is a pompous, vain comic antagonist. Once again, Disney was innovative by portraying Lady Tremaine as a dignified, manipulative, and truly sinister villain, who takes quietly sadistic pleasure in abusing Cinderella and will stop at nothing to prevent her from going to the ball or marrying the Prince. As far as I know, she's also the first Stepmother to realize before the slipper-fitting that Cinderella was the lady at the ball and to take action to prevent her from being found. That's a commonplace plot device in more recent adaptations, but in 1950 it was a creative twist!

The mice and other animals. Viewers debate whether Cinderella's mouse friends, Jaq, Gus, et al, and their misadventures evading Lucifer the Cat are a welcome addition or take away too much screen time from Cinderella herself. But there's no denying that the presence of the mice and birds is an inventive storytelling choice, which makes Disney's Cinderella stand out! And I can provide a long list of reasons why they're more than just "filler." (1) They add liveliness, humor, and appeal for younger children. (2) They gave the animators an outlet for the type of character animation they did best, rather than binding them to the harder work of animating realistic humans. (3) They give Cinderella someone to talk to besides her stepfamily. (4) They give her a way to demonstrate her kindness. (5) The struggles of the mice with Lucifer parallel Cinderella's abuse by her stepfamily, and Cinderella's undying optimism not only keeps her from despair, but inspires them too. (6) They arguably provide a further reason why Cinderella stays with her stepfamily – not only does she have nowhere to go, but an entire community of small sentient creatures relies on her for food and protection. (7) They reward Cinderella for her kindness. From the start, her friendship with the mice and birds makes her life easier to bear, both by easing her loneliness and because they do helpful deeds for her, like mending and cleaning her clothes. They fix up her mother's dress for her to wear to the ball – only the stepfamily's last-minute cruelty requires the Fairy Godmother to step in. And in the end, they're directly responsible for Cinderella's happy ending by freeing her from her locked room. They do all these things because Cinderella has protected them, fed them, made them clothes, and been their friend. Therefore, Cinderella's good fortune never feels "just handed" to her: her kindness directly earns it.

The Fairy Godmother. It's always varied between illustrators whether Cinderella's Fairy Godmother is portrayed as a grandmotherly old woman or as youthful, regal, and beautiful, but screen and stage adaptations before the Disney version virtually always took the "youthful, regal, beautiful" approach. That is, when they didn't change her into a wise, fatherly male magician-advisor, as in several opera adaptations! At any rate, seriousness and dignity were the norm for this character in most adaptations from the 19th century through the 1940s. Making her a sweet, comforting, grandmotherly figure, with a comically and adorably absent mind, was another of Disney's fresh choices.

Cinderella's entrance at the ball. We all know the classic image of Cinderella's entrance from other adaptations. Cinderella appears at the top of the grand staircase that leads down to the ballroom, and a hush falls over the assembly, as not only the Prince, but all the guests and members of the court are amazed by the unknown lady's beauty and magnificent dress. Even in versions without a staircase, Cinderella captivates the room the moment she enters. Adaptations both before and after Disney's, including Disney's own 2015 live action remake, play her entrance this way. But the 1950 animated classic subverts it! The grand staircase leads up to the ballroom, not down to it, and Cinderella's entrance isn't a triumph at first, but a vulnerable moment as she makes her way up the stairs alone, dwarfed by the splendor around her. Then, when she reaches the ballroom, no one notices her at first, because the other ladies are being presented to the Prince and all eyes are on him. But then the Prince notices her in the shadowy background as she quietly marvels at her surroundings, and leaves his post to approach her and invite her to dance. Only then does the rest of the assembly notice her, because she's the one the Prince has singled out. It's more understated and it feels more realistic than the traditional entrance, as well as more clearly symbolic of Cinderella's venturing above her station, then both literally and figuratively being led out of the shadows by the Prince's unexpected attention.

The slipper-fitting plan. Over the years, it's been fairly popular to mock the idea of using the glass slipper to find the Prince's love, as if there were no chance it would fit anyone else. Disney's version is creative by having the slipper-fitting search be the comical, hot-blooded King's idea, not the Prince's, and making it clear that it's not, nor is it meant to be, a foolproof plan to find Cinderella. The Duke points out that the slipper could fit any number of girls, but the King doesn't care if they find the right girl or not: he just wants to hold his son to his pledge to marry "the girl who fits this slipper" and force him to marry the first one who fits it. This also means that Disney doesn't do what most adaptations do and have the Prince conduct the search himself, but follows the original Perrault tale by having a gentleman, in this case the Grand Duke, do it instead. This prevents audiences from mocking the Prince for relying on the slipper instead of knowing his beloved's face.

Cinderella breaking free and asking to try on the slipper. Even though in Perrault's original tale, Cinderella asks to try on the slipper, she almost never does in adaptations. In most versions other than Disney's, including Disney's own 2015 remake, Cinderella's presence in the house (and/or the fact that she has the other slipper) is either discovered by accident or revealed by Cinderella's allies, not by Cinderella's own initiative. In some versions, she even tries to hide from the Prince and/or the search party, either out of fear of her stepfamily or because she feels unworthy of the Prince in her rags. But not Disney's animated Cinderella! First of all, she has an assertive emotional breakthrough when she calls on her dog Bruno to chase Lucifer away and free Gus to slip her the key to her locked room. Earlier on, she urges Bruno to try to get along with Lucifer, lest the stepfamily not allow him to sleep in the house – it's clear that Bruno represents her own rebellious side, and in that scene she's really talking about herself, revealing that she tolerates her stepfamily's abuse so she won't lose her own "nice warm bed" and be homeless. But in the climactic scene, when she finally sees a way out, she gives up playing nice and seizes her chance. First she unleashes Bruno on Lucifer, and then she runs downstairs and directly asks to try on the slipper, not caring how her stepfamily will react, or what the Grand Duke will think of her shabby dress, or whether the audience will accuse her of gold-digging or not. This isn't a common breakthrough in other Cinderella adaptations, but it fits perfectly (like a glass slipper, you might say) with the Disney Cinderella's stronger-willed and more self-assured characterization.

"I have the other slipper." We can probably all safely assume that when audiences first saw Disney's Cinderella in 1950, they all expected Cinderella to try on the glass slipper she lost, with her identity revealed by its perfect fit. They never would have expected Lady Tremaine to trip the footman and break the glass slipper... only for Cinderella to calmly reveal that she has the other one. It's yet another clever and unexpected twist, not seen in any other version. Not even Disney's own 2015 remake.

Disney's Cinderella deserves far more credit than it gets for being unique among the myriad versions of the tale, especially compared to the versions that came before it.

[magicalmanhattanproject]

man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am

so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!

[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]

They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.

But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)

[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]

Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.

The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.

[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]

Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.

[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]

And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.

Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.

Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.

And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!

And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.

And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.

[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]

There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures

1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.

2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps

3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.

But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!

[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]

Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.

We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)

and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it

[pomefioredove]

Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series

Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC

I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff

He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly

rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^

It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.

The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.

Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.

"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.

Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.

You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.

Did you miss NRC?

Well...

You missed your friends.

But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?

...Yeah. You could live without that.

Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.

The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.

If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.

A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.

But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.

Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.

...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.

Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)

And... it was nice. Is nice.

He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.

And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.

Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.

And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.

You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.

When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.

"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.

Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"

You nod. "Lots, yeah,"

"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.

You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.

"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"

"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.

Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"

"Um... yeah. I have,"

"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"

You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."

Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.

This time, you take the initiative.

"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"

The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"

"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."

You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"

A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"

You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You really won't come back with us?"

You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"

The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.

The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.

"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.

You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.

"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"

"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"

"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"

"When are they coming back?"

"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"

Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.

You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...

He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"

And with that, he takes his leave.

Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.

You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.

[premiumgelato]

[heechwe]

the start of time | 𝐩𝐣𝐬

୨୧ pairing: park (jay) jongseong x reader ୨୧ word count: 8.6k ୨୧ genre: angst, semi-fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: friends to strangers to lovers, childhood friends, miscommunication, pet names (baby, love, etc.), unprotected sex, TRIGGERS FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND PARENTAL ABUSE IN THE LATTER HALF OF FIC. ୨୧ synopsis: You've lost your creative spark for the first time since moving away from Jeju Island, leaving behind your best friend in the process without an explanation. But when a work assignment sends you back to your hometown, truths come to light and perhaps lost love can come back with a little time and effort. ➸ bless @pars-ley for following this fic to the very beginning and being one of the best betas ever! this story is for you, ley, and thank you ♡ 💿Listen to the story's playlist here!

Over the thin railing that separates Jay from the cliffs below, the waves crash violently together. The weather mirrors the feelings circulating through his veins. The ripples of the seabed meeting the sand make him long for what his life could be instead of its current state. The wind whips his trenchcoat in angry thrashes against his back. His hands grip the lighthouse’s iron bars to keep his body steady. The upcoming storm was forecast last night to be one of the biggest downpours of the summer.

As the second in command of the lighthouse keeper, his father, it’s standard practice to be prepared for what’s to come. As the sea continues its visceral reaction to the weather, Jay thinks about her and what her life has become since she’s left. Is she happy? Is Seoul everything she dreamed of? Was running from Jeju without saying goodbye worth it? Or is she closer than he believes, her heart’s desire turning out to be not far from the fishing town they grew up in?

His father calls for him inside, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. Probably for the better, anyway. Thinking about those chapters of his life, the book separated cleanly and harshly with a before and after, does him no good. So, like he should, he runs inside to do the next task that keeps one of the last lighthouses in Jeju working properly. Even if his heart has to be sacrificed in the process.

The subject of your next photograph takes no interest in the lens standing three feet away. Her tail wiggles rapidly as she inspects the bush in front of her with her perky, wet nose. You giggle quietly behind your camera, trying not to disturb her inspection of the roses.

Rule #1 of photography, according to your department head Sunghoon, is to make yourself nonexistent. To get the perfect shot, conceal yourself as much as possible. It’s taken many practice sessions since your first magazine catalog, the original photos coming out less than perfect. Thankfully, you’re now lead photographer thanks to Sunghoon’s tutelage and tips. After five years, you feel like you’re on stable ground.

It reminds you of Jay, the sudden memory of him being the focus of your lens many times before a punch to the gut. Your oldest friend in the world probably wonders what the reason was for your sudden departure. You couldn’t even leave him a letter to provide some semblance of an explanation, one that he definitely deserved more than anyone else.

If only you had a reason that made sense or could salvage the bond you once shared. You know now it’s been eaten away by silence, so what could be said anyhow to repair it? 

Your guilt gnaws at your empty stomach the entire way back to the headquarters of Otherworldly, the magazine you interned at and subsequently were hired to take pictures for. You greet the rest of your team when you make your way upstairs.

”Finally found some inspiration?” Sunwoo asks. Your friend tries to balance a pencil on the top of his nose.

”I’m working on it. In the meantime, I got the copies you wanted.” You give him the folder that holds your pictures for the month’s spread.

”Barely made the deadline this time, kid.” Sunghoon tuts his head at you.

“Leave her be,” Chaewon chides him, thwacking her notebook on the back of his head. It’s nice to know the writer’s room has your back when the boys decide to tease, especially in the form of Chaewon. She may be a stern leader, but she also happens to have a soft spot for you, the only female photographer.

You hear your boss, Kim Taehyung, call your name and ask you to come to his office. Your body bristles at the command, but Chaewon pats you on the shoulder. “Probably just a timesheet thing.”

Tip-toeing into Taehyung’s office, you smile at his back. Your boss is focused on a box of files on the windowsill, the outline of his button up shirt highlighted by the sun. “Please sit,” he says.

You do as he asks, putting your hands on your knees to pinch the skin, an old habit you couldn't kick. You tuck your hands under your legs to stop when Taehyung turns to you. He presses his glasses higher to the bridge of his nose, a soft smile emerging on his lips. “I wanted to say your photos from the last column were very impressive.”

”Oh!” You respond instinctively. Expecting reprimands that turned out to be compliments, you mentally take a deep breath of relief. “Thank you, sir.”

"Also," he says, "I was wondering how you’d feel being sent out on an assignment. Well, you and Sunwoo, actually. Sunghoon was discussing a location-focused piece, and he recommended you for it since you may need a change of scenery for some fresh inspiration.”

You nod your head immediately. “Of course!”

Taehyung claps his hands together, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ve already booked you two for the next flight to Aewol in two days. It’ll probably be easy to find a place to stay, right?”

The pit in your stomach that faded immediately widens into a chasm. The sound of your hometown’s name on Taehyung’s lips could have been a figment of your imagination. A sick joke your guilt materialized to punish you further. But as you look longer at your boss, his glee transforming into hesitant confusion, you know the reality is far worse.

”The location piece is for Jeju,” you say, the realization on your lips hitting your ears like a cannon.

”Is that an issue? I can always send Jungwon with Sunwoo instead."

”No sir! Not a problem at all.” The words tumble out before you can stop them.

Jungwon, the little prick, wouldn’t get in the way of your success if you could help it. It’s bad enough that he reminds you of your creative block whenever he gets the chance. No way would he steal a cover piece from you. Particularly the one Sunghoon recommended you for and your boss expected you to complete without problems.

Despite the implications creating intense dread in every fiber of your being.

”Perfect. Get some sleep for the flight! I’ll send the piece details in an email first thing tomorrow morning.”

You walk back to your desk in a daze, unsure what to say when Sunghoon, Sunwoo, and Chaewon ask about the meeting. All your thoughts can center on is Jay, his smiling face continuously playing in your mind’s eye.

“This town is cute! A bit barren, but cute,” Sunwoo says as he exits the car parked in front of your childhood home. Your mother’s rose bushes stand tall near the mailbox, the only color in the dry grasslands surrounding your house. Aewol pales in comparison to the colors of Seoul, the city’s vibrant hues suddenly replaced with sepia tones. The only color that seems to shine through the landscape is the sea a five-minute walk away.

”Say that again, Woo, and your face won’t look so cute.” You roll your eyes and grab your luggage from the trunk.

Two weeks, only two weeks, you can survive two weeks. Your mantra on the flight to Jeju Island has been giving you some relief at the thought of going back home in half a decade. Standing in front of the brick and mortar that encapsulates your old house, you find the words to be extremely hollow.

With her uncanny senses, your mother is already out the door and greeting you and Sunwoo with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. How she could tell the two of you were barely out of the car without spying out the window, you’re unsure.

Sunwoo melts under your mother’s attention, his gummy smile and polite aura on full display. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

”Ah, my prayers were answered. Glad to see my daughter returned with a boyfriend!”

Yours and Sunwoo’s eyes grow to saucers. Your tongues are erupting with explanations at an absurdly fast speed. “No, Mom,” you shush her as Sunwoo’s blush creeps across his neck. “Woo’s my coworker. He’s here with me on an assignment.”

”Oh! Apologies.” She laughs behind one hand and pats Sunwoo on the back with the other. “Doesn’t mean one day you can’t be more than coworkers! That’s how your father and I met, remember?”

You give her a close-lipped smile and nod, the muscles in your jaw tightening.

You hadn’t thought about your father or your parents’ relationship once since you had flown out to the mainland. Admittedly, your life was all the better for it.

Feeling the air of his presence surrounding yours again twists the veins in your neck to tense knots. The ends of your hair prickle in anticipation. You make it to the front of your doorstep, wondering where he is and why he didn’t barge outside to greet you.

Like she can read your mind, your mother says, “I forgot to call and tell you, honey. Your father had an accident at the factory a month ago.” You see a tear in the corner of her eye, but you don’t address it. “So…he’s been bedridden for the past few months now.”

Sunwoo expresses his deepest sympathies. Unbeknownst to him, they deserve to go to the next beggar before him.

Like any other child, you should worry about your father’s sudden health change with a heavy heart and a frazzled mind. You should feel guilty for being away for so long, wondering how to make up for the lost time.

But you feel nothing. Not an ounce of what you should feel.

Even when you sit by your parents’ bed, his eyes lazily gazing out the window while your mother tells him in a loving voice that you’re home, your emotions are devoid of anything negative or positive. Sunwoo smiles and greets him politely. Your father says nothing. The seizure that overtook him stole his ability to enunciate coherent words.

Some moments later, when it’s just the two of you in the room together, you itch to leave. It should be a pleasure to see him. But you’re unsure to see it any other way but objectively: he’s just a body in a bed, doing nothing every day.

You hear your mother shouting in the living room. Her voice is at an abnormally high pitch to exemplify her happiness. You forgot she could achieve such a decibel when she wanted to.

”You won’t believe who’s here, Seongie!”

Seongie.

The childhood nickname Jay was blessed with by his parents, and the name stuck like a second skin. Now, it bounces off your ears and exacerbates your already conflicting emotions. Your body goes into overdrive from the sudden overstimulation, at ease from knowing Jay is close by but petrified you're seeing him after so long.

You fix your hair and take tentative steps out of your parents' room and into the hallway, hearing your mother call your name to beckon you to welcome your old friend.

When you see him, his frame filling the doorway of your childhood house, you’re transported back in time. You see yourself and Jay on a day when he could barely stand at half the wall height. You were etching pencil markings into the doorframe, the wood concealing the handwriting perfectly when the door was fully closed. A time when there were no worries or anxieties placed on you, the two of you against the world.

Looking over his face now, you realize the years have not shown physically. He still has the same angled jaw and smooth cheeks. His bottom lip remains puffy, especially when he pouts. The only thing that has changed with time is his eyes, most likely from the image before him, one he hasn’t seen in so long.

He has every right to be confused. One second, you stopped being a staple in his life. Now, you’re back in it without a warning.

You can’t deny your heart clenching. The muscle seizes when he looks over your figure, his jaw ticking when he finally meets your eyes with his own.

”You’re back,” he says finally. His first words to you in five years hold an air of uncertainty, laced with unspoken pain. He’s unsure what to do with his body, his arms pressed to his sides and his hands stuffed tightly into his pockets.

Knowing you’re the cause of it makes you want to run to Seoul all over again with your tail between your legs, hoping you can forget the misery you’ve caused. How can one apology hold enough weight to make up for what you did to one of the only people you’ve ever loved?

Sunwoo, aware of the sudden tension flooding the room, holds out a hand to your best friend. “Hi, I’m Sunwoo.”

Jay breaks eye contact with you to take Sunwoo’s palm, shaking it with a gentle but present grip. Jay gestures to your mom when he discusses yours and Sunwoo’s job at the magazine. “She’s very proud of her daughter, you know."

”Of course!” Your mother exclaims. “‘S not everyday that your child becomes some hip photographer.”

Jay inhales a heavy breath and looks down at his watch. “I have to go back to the lighthouse, but—“

”I thought your dad still ran that thing,” you cut Jay off. Aewol’s lighthouse was one of the last on the island, and the last love Jay’s father had left after his wife passed away twelve years ago. You expected it to stay in the family, but not in this way. Not when Jay has so many dreams to fulfill. Or, at least, you hope so.

Jay releases a humorless laugh, eyes falling at the corners. “Pop’s getting old. Can’t do it forever.”

He hugs your mother and gives a soft wave to Sunwoo. You feel the pit in your chest from a few days ago re-erupt when Jay looks in your direction before he departs. All you’re left with is the grim line of his mouth to haunt you for the rest of your afternoon.

The shutter of your camera makes Jay turn his head to you with a shy grin, his hair blowing in all directions from the wind. Your spot on the cliffside overlooking the sea is close enough to the lighthouse for you to see Jay’s father going in and out of the structure with supplies shipped from the mainland. Jay only runs over when his father calls for him to help, but his father hasn’t bothered to in the last hour or so.

In the downtime, the two of you have been alternating between science homework and enjoying the cool, cloudy weather. You’ve taken a number of shots of the water’s current and weeds surrounding your picnic blanket, but the majority of them were of your best friend. He pretends he’s going to smack your lens away, but he never does.

“Are you done taking candid shots of me?” Jay asks, his pencil scratching against his notebook.

“Depends. Maybe once you tell me what you’re writing,” you tease. “Because it’s definitely not a chemical equation.”

Jay chuckles and puts his notebook between the two of you. The words are jumbled in front of you until you recognize them as a recipe. “I was testing out this version of hoedeopbap last night, but I used white fish instead of salmon. It turned out really good, even Jaeyun liked it.”

You rest your head on your hand, sprawling out on the blanket to look at Jay. He always appears so animated when discussing food. You wonder when he’ll take the initiative and do something with his passion.

“What?” He asks when he catches you staring.

You grin and turn your eyes away. “You’re just a dork for food, is all.”

“Says the nerd with her camera always around her neck.”

You click your tongue at him. “I consider myself an opportunist. How else will I get good shots if I don’t have my baby with me?” You rub your camera’s body lovingly, and Jay releases a hearty laugh.

The booming sound of your father’s voice calling your name makes your entire body flinch. You swear his figure is as tall as the lighthouse as he comes towards your picnic blanket, stopping short when he sees Jay next to you.

“It’s almost dinner time. Let’s go home.” Your father says the words with a false ease; they hide his warning to follow him back to your house. Your anxiety rumbles low in your stomach, but you play it off like it’s nothing as you pack up your stuff.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jay says, his eyes hopeful for the next morning. As it is your routine for him to bike with you to school, you’re also counting the minutes until you see him again.

“See you tomorrow,” you say, your eyes soft but your stomach wrapped in knots. When you’re out of sight, and your father wraps his hand around your upper arm on your way to the car, you calculate the next seconds until you’re away from him and back in the safety of your best friend’s presence.

You and Sunwoo have been around the town square of Aewol all morning and afternoon. The crisp hour of 4 PM hits you sharply with the sound of cows and other livestock sounding off somewhere nearby. The pictures you’ve both taken of the local townspeople, random animals passing through the pale greenery, and subtle landscape have been average at best. They don’t hit you with awe or fuel any further inspiration. It’s the same cycle you’ve repeated for the past three months, trying to strike some sort of match of creativity only to come up empty.

“Let’s be honest,” Sunwoo says, looking over his own camera’s reel. “These kinda blow.”

“You don’t say?” You kick a free cobblestone off the road in front of you, lips downturned.

“The assignment is ‘Hidden Treasures’ right? Maybe we’re just looking in the wrong place.”

“Where do you think we’ll find something like that here?”

“You’re a local,” Sunwoo says in his defense. “Where did you go all the time in this backwater town?”

The beginning of your sarcastic remark dies on your lips the second you see Jay walking out of the laundromat with Heeseung, one of your old high school friends. He looks the same as Jay, still youthful but showing maturity around the edges.

Jay catches your eyes as they continue walking, his face contorting in surprise but unsure how to address it. Heeseung is the one to run towards you and pick you up in a tight hug, practically squeezing the remaining energy out of you.

“Holy shit, Jong wasn’t lying! You’re really back!” Heeseung laughs, his eyes becoming crescent moons from his happiness. You match his reaction, genuinely glad to see another familiar face.

You introduce Sunwoo to Heeseung, and Sunwoo exchanges pleasantries with Jay. Jay remains tense, the two of you conflicted about how to bridge the awkwardness that lingers.

Heeseung, like Sunwoo, is a great detective, sniffing out tension and immediately directing the conversation to your cameras. “So, Jong was saying you’re here for an assignment?”

“Yes!” Sunwoo says before you can. “We’re trying to find hidden treasures, actually. Our boss’s words, not mine.” Heeseung laughs at Sunwoo and then flicks his fingers.

“Jong could show you guys the inside of the lighthouse! Or even the view from that damn balcony would be a treasure in its own right. You can practically see the whole town from up there. Right, Jong?”

Jay rolls his eyes and rolls the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows. “Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Perfect! We were dying here without any good material. No offense to you small town folk,” Sunwoo apologizes, but neither of your old friends mind. They welcome Sunwoo’s city perspective with laughter and an open hand, just like they always have with newcomers.

On your walk to the lighthouse, Heeseung and Sunwoo taking the lead, you’re left to walk alongside Jay. The tension is a tad looser than it was before, but it still pervades the space between you both.

Finally, Jay says, “I can’t believe you’re actually home, y’know.” He says the sentence more like a question, his voice unable to mask the traces of hurt that linger.

It makes your heart rip, but you avoid the workings inside your chest to keep the conversation light. "It took a long time, didn't it?”

”Yeah. It’s like you dropped off the planet.” Jay’s voice turns a degree lighter. He smiles, the crack in his solid facade giving you a way back in.

“I basically did. All I had was my camera and some clothes in my bag.”

Jay's eyes widen, startled by the thought. “You’ve never traveled light once in your entire life.”

”I know! I barely had time to grab the necessities.”

His eyes are filled with humor. “And by that, you mean…”

“Obviously my Pokémon collection, for starters. I had to start from scratch,” you joke. “Good thing I saved all of the old cards under my bed.”

”Even the one of Charmander that I dropped in Jaeyun’s homemade soju?”

You nod, laughing. “It still smells like watermelon.”

”Bullshit!”

You both fall into an easy rhythm of witty banter and taunting, recalling old memories and brushing shoulders in a mocking fashion.

By the time you’re taking photographs on the highest floor of the lighthouse, the tension has dissipated by a large portion. Your relationship with Jay may not be completely back to where it was before, but the first lighthearted smile he throws in your direction proves it’s a start.

And a start is just enough to make your heart feel a million pounds lighter.

“So Jongseong is flailing this card around, not realizing that the bowl of my signature soju punch is right there behind him…” Jake tells the story of the Charmander card with animated expressions. Heeseung and Jay roll their eyes, but Sunwoo laughs the entire time, his buzz bumping his energy to a level you had never seen before.

The bonfire Jake and Heeseung set up a walk away from the lighthouse is big enough for all five of you to sit comfortably around it. It seemed to be the only way your old friends could hang out together at this point in their adult lives. The bar that still stood in town filled with too many old people to feel like an acceptable hangout location.

“And he completely dropped not only her precious Pokémon card, but his whole fist into the punch bowl! I had to make a whole new batch without my parents knowing about it!” Jake laughs incredulously.

The memory still holds a level of insanity for him, clearly—not just at the situation but the level of teasing that you and Jay would devolve to when you were in your own little world together. You couldn’t help that you wanted to take your card from Jay’s hands, even if that meant soaking him in alcohol to get him to give it up.

You lift your beer to your lips, blushing. Jay sits beside you and notices the humor in your expression, smiling to himself too. You didn’t expect to reach this level of closeness again so soon. Who knew it would take a work project to find your way back to each other? With the week coming to a close and a good catalog of photos under your belt thanks to him, you could say the glass was looking half full.

“You guys got any more stories? This shit’s hilarious!” Sunwoo says, still laughing.

“Loads, man,” Jake responds.

“He’s got the best memory of all of us. Probably remembers all of our first naps in elementary,” Heeseung adds.

“How about we focus on the present, please? Otherwise we’ll be here until the sun comes up, Dee and Dum,” Jay says, pointing to the prime suspects with their all-knowing smirks.

“What else is there to say, Jay? Jake and I have been toiling on the dredging boats. You keep guarding that white tower and saying no to your uncle every time he asks you to work at his restaurant. Same old, same old.”

You turn your head to stare at Jay, perplexed. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

It’s always been Jay’s dream to make something of himself with his recipes. Bookmarks, sticky notes, anything with free space held an ingredient here or a step for a recipe there. It was like it was second nature, as were photographs for you.

How could he deny himself from what he wanted?

“I already have responsibilities here. I can’t drive up and down the highway to Park & Co. every day.”

“Start small, idiot.” You chide him, half-serious in your pestering. “Who said you couldn't do both? You can be a good son and still have your own dream.”

“Careful,” Jake says to you. “He might listen to you.”

“You’re the only one who gets through that cold heart of his,” Heeseung teases.

Jay gives the older boys a stern look, and they back off immediately.

On the walk back to your house, Jay’s jacket nestled around your shoulders, you grill him further on the prospect of him cooking seriously. “You should do it.”

Jay shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “And what’ll happen to the lighthouse? My dad will go back every morning on his cane and keep it working himself? No way.”

“Come on, who says you can’t do both?” You flaunt your arms in the air, emphasizing your point. “It’s not like it rains every day here.”

He looks at you with humored eyes, their shape becoming extremely thin when he smiles. “You’re even more stubborn as an adult, you know?

You poke your tongue out at him. “I could say the same about you, Seongie.”

The rain soaks your clothes when you run through Jay’s door. You shake off the droplets in your hair, most of the strands needing to be wrung out in your fist. Jay gets you a towel to dry off with, laughing at your current state of affairs.

”Don’t make fun of me. Be glad I still came, asshole,” you warn, warming yourself with the dryness of the cotton towel.

Jay raises his hands in mercy. “I told you to come earlier! Forecasts are no joke.”

”Sometimes they’re wrong,” you say. 

”Ninety-five percent of the time, they’re not. Trust the lighthouse keeper next time, maybe? I’ve been watching those skies for three years. I know if and when the weathermen are full of shit.”

You roll your eyes and shuck your shoes off, “Whatever. Any chance you have a spare pair of warm socks for me? I may get frostbite.”

”One, that involves snow,” Jay says as he walks into his small bedroom, leaving you alone for a second before coming out with what you requested. “And two, promise to bring them back. I only have so many pairs before I have to go to the city for more.”

”Scout’s honor,” you promise. You switch out your soaked socks for Jay’s, the feeling of the fabric making you immediately warmer. It could also be the fireplace that Jay put kindling in before you got there, but it’s mostly the socks. “Thank you. I feel better already.”

“I’d offer you a set of clothes too, but I’m moving a lot of my stuff from my dad’s.”

“It’s not that far away, though. You really want to live in this tiny shack?”

Jay laughs and returns to his food on the stove. “Do you think I could bring a girl home living with him? I love him, but I’m getting too old to be his roommate.”

You smile and press your arms into the kitchen counter, but you know it’s false. The thought of Jay being with someone else sprouts a gargantuan knot of jealousy in your stomach. He’s never belonged to you, not by any means. Not only that, but your illogical departure gives you no right to claim him now. And yet…

“Hey, where’d you go?” He waves a dish towel in front of your face, a smile on his lips.

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you play off your prying thoughts.

“Obviously.” He sticks his tongue out at you and continues to stir the concoction on the stove.

“What are you making anyway?”

“Seaweed soup. I haven’t been able to make you any since…the last birthday we spent together.”

Your body warms deep down to the soles of your feet at this surprise. “My birthday was three months ago.”

He chuckles and turns his head to you, smirking. “Consider it a belated birthday gift then.” He carries on stirring, but continues talking. “Besides, you always liked my soup compared to your mom’s. Too watery, if I remember right.”

You blush and step away from the counter. “Let’s not talk about her or her food.”

Jay’s face turns puzzled. “You’ve always been so bristly when we talk about your family. Your mom is one of the sweetest ladies in town." 

“You don’t get it. You didn’t grow up with her.”

“Hey, at least you have both parents around.”

You slam your hand down on another laminate countertop, growing more frustrated the longer the topic is broached. “Jongseong, please drop it.”

“Why are you getting so upset?” He asks, puzzled and growing alarmingly quiet at your outburst.

“Because you don’t get it! And you never will, okay? So let it go!”

The kitchen suddenly feels too suffocating, the memories of the past and your argument melding together in a way that makes any hunger that you had become a full stomach stuffed with nothing but anger and fear. You run out of the house and back into the rain, knowing if you say anything more, your secrets will fall around you like pellets soaking your skin.

The lanterns fill the sky like a thousand stars, close enough for you to touch before they’re whisked away into the dark clouds above you. Even for your small town, every adult and child knows the end of summer festival is a time to make the last set of wishes and affirmations before autumn comes. If Jay’s father yearned for an easy season, he would buy a lantern to release on a night light tonight, as would your friends’ families who hoped for good health and fortune.

You smile when you manage to catch one, holding on tight despite knowing it’s against tradition. Once one is meant to float away, it was considered rude to stop it from continuing on its path upward.

Jay chuckles and grabs it from you, matching your pout in jest. “Next year, I’ll buy you your own, alright? Don’t be greedy!”

You roll your eyes and watch the lantern rise up and away from your spot on the beach. It shimmers in an amber glow until it slips away into the black sky overhead.

You turn to him, eyes lit up not just from the lantern flames. “Did you wish for anything this year?”

Jay shrugs. “I can’t really wish for anything ‘cause I didn’t get—“

“Don’t give me that! It’s symbolic, anyway. Just tell me,” you whine.

Jay only side-eyes you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You attempt to throw a bundle of sand in his direction, but he sees your upcoming attack the second you raise your arm. He takes your wrist in his hand, the clump disintegrating between your fingers. The two of you laugh as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.

You’re both a tangle of limbs until he finally pins you down on the ground. He hovers above you, panting hard. “I win,” Jay replies, his breathing ragged but eyes still sparkling from a successful takedown.

“You wish.”

In the flicker of lantern lights and midnight stars overhead, Jay can’t help himself from leaning down closer until there’s barely a breath between your lips. He lets every doubt that has lingered over the past fourteen years dissipate and surrenders to the moment, feeling the softness of your mouth as he kisses you.

You could be glowing as bright as the lights still being sent off into the sky. You feel like you are, anyway.

He doesn’t go faster or push you further, the simplicity of the act making you sparkle from within with every ebb and flow of your conjoined lips. The crackle of a firework is what makes the two of you come up for air, unaware of how much time has passed.

 You let the moment hang between you the entire walk home. He holds your hand, squeezing it every now and then, the action more valuable than any words he could say right now. He holds himself back from giving you another kiss to say goodnight, knowing there’s always tomorrow.

Minutes after you make it inside, the scene in front of you turns whatever joy was left from Jay’s presence into acid.

“Can you not do anything right around here? I ask for the simplest things and even that’s too much.” Your father points to the food in his hands with an air of disgust directed at your mother.

He spits his vitriol in her face, the pattern commonplace. The behavior is nothing new, but his eyes show something worse than normal brewing beneath the surface.

“I can fix it,” your mother assures him, trying to take the bowl from him. “I’ll throw out the old batch and—“

“So now you think wasting food is the better choice? Are you stupid?”

The two of them are unaware of your presence, but even if they were, you doubt that would change the downward spiral they were heading towards.

She tries to walk away from him like she always has, diffusing the situation in the only way she knows how, but he drops the bowl on the counter and takes her by the arm.

“You’re not leaving,” he warns. The next moments pass in a blur, each one that plays out making you hover outside of your body, looking down in disbelief. Your mother’s temple hits the wood with a terrible thud. The next second, your body is pressed against your father’s to pull him away, begging, “Daddy, please stop!” 

His upper arm has enough force to jam into your chest and knock you onto the kitchen tile below. Pain reverberates up your tailbone from hitting the floor in a violent bang.

Your mother comes from the daze of her assault to cover your body with her own. It’s a pointless defense, your father’s feet slamming hard on the floor as he walks away and into the bedroom without looking back once.

She apologizes profusely, holding your head in her hands as tears stream down her face without an endpoint. You can barely form a tear yourself, still unsure the past ten minutes happened at all. An hour ago, you had your first kiss, and now…

“Your aunt lives on a coast off the mainland. I can’t let you stay here anymore, my love.”

That moment is when you feel the water form in your eyes. You couldn’t leave now, not with so much left uncertain.

“Promise me you’ll leave this place. Don’t think about this night again and find something better, please.”

That entire night, the waves knocking into each other with the same force as you had encountered hours ago, you feel your heart shatter into a multitude of pieces, each fragment tinier and more painful than the last. The thought of Jay waking up to see you in the morning only to find you erased from his life, robs any chance of you sleeping on the boat ride to Wando.

He’ll try to call and text, for sure. But what could be said that would explain the last twenty four hours without breaking your promise to your mother? How could you live with sharing such intimate details of your household, even with someone as sacred to you as Jay is?

How could you make him believe it wasn’t his fault that you fled without revealing your most vulnerable and harsh reality? After coming so close to the future you always dreamed of with him, what would he think? What would he do?

So, like any coward does, you let the phone ring until your battery dies, not bothering to charge it again until you make it to your aunt’s. You tell yourself he’ll move on and life will be better with you safe and out of the picture. Every beat of your breaking heart may call you a liar, but you’ll learn to twist it into the truth one day.

The next afternoon, sun slowly setting to meet the waves below, you walk towards the lighthouse with the courage your younger self didn’t have the night you ran away. Your heart tosses around in your mouth when you take the first step through the threshold, but now is the last time you fear the truth. If you couldn’t explain the circumstances back then, the least you could do was explain them now.

You take the trek up the steps to the top floor of the lighthouse, every step heavier than the last. Jay stands inside the lantern room cleaning the large bulb at the center of the space. He immediately tenses when you walk through the open door, but he says nothing. He only holds the same somber expression he had the first day you arrived back in Aewol. Only now, so much more rests behind his face that you cannot decipher.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. The words release something you believed couldn’t be separated from your being. Your guilt remains present, but the apology provides a long-held breath of fresh air.

He looks up to meet your gaze, eyebrows furrowing just a touch. The setting sun casts amber shadows across his face, making his confusion breathtaking. Clearly, he’s unsure what exactly you’re apologizing for.

The next words already taste like lead in your mouth, but you can’t hold the weight of them for another second.

Speaking them out loud is what will set you free.

“The night I left, my dad pushed my mom into a cabinet,” you confess. The eight words you just uttered create a well of tears in your eyes, but you keep your voice level and solid. “He had always been…harsh before, not just with her, but that was the first night I ever saw him hurt her with his hands instead of his words.

“I tried to stop it from getting worse, and I fell down—no,” you take a breath, “h-he threw—he threw me down on the floor.” You feel foolish for trying to minimize his actions, knowing there’s no reason to protect him anymore. You lower your head, ashamed. “That was when my mom called my aunt in Wando. She begged me not to say anything, so I kept it a secret. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about it… and about how much of an asshole my father really is.”

You can’t help the way your words crumble on your tongue or the low whimper that erupts from your lips. You had accepted in silence the harsh reality of your father being a violent and cruel human being, but speaking the words aloud is another beast entirely.

You go cold, your figure limp until you feel Jay’s gentle fingers under your chin. They pull your face up to meet his, catching his glassy and red eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

You sniffle. “What would you have done? We were seventeen—“

“Fuck that,” Jay seethes, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I would’ve killed him then, just like I want to right now.”

You laugh and take his fingers in yours. “I made a promise.” You lock onto his gaze harder, trying to convey every ounce of regret you still feel. “I thought about calling you every day. I’d pick up the phone and didn’t know how to come up with the right words, especially after…”

Jay laughs, passing over the curve of your cheek with his thumb. It’s the rhythmic pattern of his touch that makes you come down from such heightened emotions. It’s always been his superpower, grounding you like this. “If I had known I wouldn’t see you again, I would’ve kissed you until the sun came up.”

You blush, your body flushing with heat. “Nothing’s stopping you now, Jongseong. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He steps forward, the shy boy you grew to love appearing in front of you. The last time you were this close, you both were unsure about most things in life, but not about how much you meant to him, and vice versa.

Now, the feelings he had put on hold for so long take hold of him, his heart a kaleidoscope of pent-up sensations when he finally presses his lips to yours. His mouth is ravenous, his tongue finding yours as his arms clutches onto your body with fervor.

You’re encased in him, all the lost time suddenly found in the spaces of his mouth on yours, your hands on his body, and the moans that leave your mouth. He undoes the buttons of your cardigan with quick ease, taking it off of your shoulders and somewhere in the room you don’t care to remember. You help him pull the sweater over his head to kiss the column of his throat and top of his chest, making him shudder.

You both pause to hurry down to the drawing room below, not wanting to continue on the iron floor next to the bright bulb of the lighthouse. Yes, the cot off to the side of the room is not incredibly comfortable, but you care little about its lack of comfort when Jay lays you down on your back and smothers your body in kisses. He makes a map of your skin until he meets the apex of your thighs, your body highly strung by the time he kisses the center of your legs.

You clutch his hair with both hands and hold tight in the midst of his ministrations, his whispered words of affirmation and the figure-eight patterns of his tongue saying just enough to push you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

He lifts his head from your body to crawl over you, his heart in his mouth as he says the words that have always been in his mind and heart from the second he saw you. “I love you.”

You’re unsure if it’s normal to cry at such a confession or in the midst of your current situation, but regardless, there are no tears of fear or pain. They’re ones that fill the silence between you with what he already knows to be true. But you say the words he needs to hear anyway. “I love you, too, Seongie.”

This is what it feels like to be at home. His body against yours, him sliding so easily inside of you without a word needed for the immense amounts of pleasure that already exists. It could be a handful of minutes or a span of time that carries over into the next morning. All that matters is his lips on your own and his hips meeting yours with every thrust.

And in between every movement, he has to remind you how much he loves you. His words and feelings are already embossed into your heart, but it’s nice to hear the breathless cadence of his voice. “I love you so much,” he groans, his end close with the sudden stutters of his body.

You fall off the cliffside together, your bodies in sync in the best possible way as your eyes see the stars from the very first night you kissed in the back of your eyelids. And when he has his hands in your hair, his touch lulling you to sleep, you wonder why it took you this long to come back to the one person who has always been the safest space in your world.

The two of you stay nestled in the thin blanket, Jay’s body your source of warmth in the small drawing room of the lighthouse. The cot barely holds your bodies, but with you both squeezing together and not wanting to let go, you make it work.

Jay takes stray hairs from your face to tuck behind your ears. “I can’t believe you didn’t know how bad my crush was until the festival.”

You giggle into his chest. “I wasn’t paying attention to boys back then! How would I have known?” You hold his gaze, suddenly vulnerable.

He chuckles. “I think I was pretty obvious.”

“To everyone but me, I guess,” you joke. “Besides, I think I always knew I’d end up with you, strangely.”

“That’s not strange, not at all.” He kisses you tenderly, nipping your lips until you laugh into his mouth. “Perfect. At least to me.”

“Same,” you agree. “I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m with you.”

Jay responds by holding you tighter between his arms. He kisses the top of your head before whispering, “So where do we go from here?”

The answer is simple, but that doesn’t make it any easier to face.

Jay looks deeply into your eyes and senses the words you cannot say, and the strength of his stare and his arms as your protective walls from all the harm that still exists in this world gives you the power to confront what you need to.

That afternoon, leaving Jay in the lighthouse with your heart fully in his possession, you know you have to face the demons that wait for you in your childhood home. If you are to have a future together, the first thing you have to do is make peace with the past.

A handwritten note on the fridge tells you your mother went out for groceries, giving you the perfect excuse to release the words that would end your terror once and for all.

You enter your parents’ room to see your father, unmoved from the spot you saw him in on the first day you were back home. Your mother pleaded for you to check in every now and then now that you were back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not until now.

You move the chair by his bedside out to sit down. When you finally face him again, you take note of the details you were too blinded by indifference to notice before. You observe the wrinkles on his forehead, the sunken divots under his eyes, the age lines surrounding his mouth, the frailness of his body.

The weight he’s lost since his accident makes all his features stand out more. All that he’s lost, but has also always been, is on full display now: this husk of a man without the venomous words and bravado to hide behind is truly nothing to be scared of anymore.

 “You’re so much smaller than I realized.” You say it with a breath of relief, any fear or anger that was left behind for him in your soul replaced with pity. You can walk away without regrets or words you wish you could’ve said, because you know now it’s a waste of your peace. Maybe one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive, even. Not today, but someday.

You walk away with no grievances left, back in the direction of the lighthouse with a new purpose and ready to take the path you were always meant to. Back to the home you’ve always had resting inside of the one you love.

Jay stands with his back facing you, staring off into the expanse of sea in front of him. His shoulders ease as you step closer.

“You’re back,” he says with saccharine happiness. He takes your hand in his and presses your fingers to his lips.

“I am,” you respond. You kiss him with your whole soul, incredibly in love and unafraid of what will come next.

“Babe! The new issue is here!”

You open your eyes to the sound of Jay’s words. You could barely doze off when he was so excited to grab the mail this morning. It was only delivered a few minutes ago, but of course he has to check for the newest spread of Otherworldly in your mailbox. To his happiness and your shy pride, your name’s plastered in almost every section of the photography credits.

Convincing your boss to let you work for the magazine from your hometown turned out to be easier than expected. With his happiness from your newfound inspiration, it seemed like you could take pictures of algae for all he cared and it would be a hit in the magazine’s eyes.

You weren’t the only one who could take credit, though. Jay’s name was also included in some of the photos, his insight into Aewol’s cuisine and new sous chef position at Park & Co providing more than enough influence for your photography. The lighthouse would always be his priority (aside from you), but his second love of food could not be kept at bay any longer.

He opens the magazine to the first page that features your photos, the centerfold being of Jay’s original recipe for hoedeopbap. “It looks even better in print,” Jay says, his face three shades brighter staring at the meal.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his middle, peeking your head out from the side of his shoulder to look at the pages. “It’s really good, isn’t it?”

“Some of the best you’ve ever done.” He turns in your hold to press your chest to his, kissing your forehead in the process. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“Actually, getting lucky is how we got this.” You take his hand and rest it on the curve of your stomach, fifteen weeks peaking out from under the midriff of your tank top.

He laughs and presses his lips to your cheek. “I love you.”

To your surprise, peace was easier to find than you had expected. Confronting what you ran away from all those years ago feels like a distant memory, the pain of the past a part of another reality. There are no monsters that creep in the shadows or secrets to keep locked behind closed doors.

All that remains is the ease that comes from a life filled with nothing but love and happiness, as weightless and freeing as a lantern floating through the sky.

“I love you too, Park Jongseong.”

@junekissed (thank for beta-ing also june!! ilysm) @yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

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