#WHAT THE HELL

[hyvneluv]

The last sentence hit hard this is so ndjendoiwencioe2ncoiecj2ioecjewjciowdjcoij

#hyvneluvrecs

Orange

hyunjin x reader. childhood friends to lovers. implied soulmates. hyune's pov.

this is the prequel & sequel to you're in the wind, i'm in the water. you need to read the prev fic first to understand how hyunjin and mc confessed to one another!!

this is very self indulgent but it's also my bd gift so i get a pass hehe also a tribute to one of my fav love languages which is peeling an orange for someone :')

based on Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey,, so highly recommend listening to it while reading :)) feedback is appreciated as always <333

i'm on the run with you my sweet love

The beige sand warms the soles of your feet as you and Hyunjin run along the shore. His parents sit by a towel, watching you with idle curiosity as you’re propelled forth by the brisk winds; and a sense of feedom only found in the tender hearts of children.

Hyunjin doesn’t know where you’re taking him. He didn’t question you when you entwined your fingers with his before running away, your footprints etched upon the sandy canvas. His sole attention was on your clammy hand, tightly clasping his.

Hyunjin didn’t yet understand what it meant to crave the hand of someone in yours, for it to feel natural for fingers to hold one another. He was only seven. What does one really know at this age?

But he knew that he was drawn to grand things. The beauty of fireworks as they unfold in the sky, dazzling colors rivaling the hues of sunsets. To the towering sunflowers his mother takes him to see, so tall their petals almost seem to be reaching for the sun’s embrace. To the full moon and the way it hangs close to earth, as if yearning to enter our horizon, to sink into the soil and rest.

But in that moment, as he watched your gleeful smile, the blush tinting your cheeks as you tugged him along, a different amazement grew within his soul. It was quiet, it was soft, it didn't overwhelm his seven-years-old heart. It was enough.

You finally stop by a rock, settling in the sand with your hair fanning around you like a halo. Hyunjin hovers over you, his tentative gaze tracing your features, trying to pinpoint what had made that peculiar feeling pour over his body, like candle wax finally meeting its destined mold.

He doesn't find an answer, only your kind smile as you tap the place near you. You were giddy, as if you had run far when his parents remained mere meters away.

Hyunjin had noticed this urge in you to flee, to wander, always. He didn't know what it means. He thought that perhaps you didn't know either. He wondered if you'd ever run away from him. The question burned the tip of his tongue.

"Will we always run together?" Hyunjin suddenly asks, kneeling to meet your eyes.

"If you want to," you shrug. "Will you run away with me when we're older?"

"Where to?" he asks, a note of apprehension coloring his tone.

"I don't know. We'll know later."

"Okay."

"You pinky promise?"

"I do," Hyunjin entwines his pinky with yours, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. He avoids your eyes as a dusty blush cascades on his cheeks, akin to the fading pink of a sunken sunset. You giggle, reciprocating the kiss before pressing your thumbs together.

"Sealed forever," you grin, eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Your contagious happiness mirrors instantly on Hyunjin's face, his nose scrunching up in delight.

He wants to keep this smile on your face, he thinks, this intricate joy that dawns upon your features, brightening up your face, making your pinky in his feel lighter, warmer.

So, he takes out an orange from his pocket.

"Where did you get this?" you chuckle, eyes widening in delight as if presented with the world's most treasured jewel.

"A vendor gave it to me," he shrugs, handing it to you.

Your thumb punctures the tangerine's thick skin, making the fruit’s juice drip down your hands. You attempt to peel it but the skin breaks instantly, falling into the sand.

"Here, let me," Hyunjin offers, taking the orange from your hands, peeling it for you.

A strange warmth slowly spreads through his being, akin to tree roots anchoring onto the soil, to the unfurling of petals on the first day of spring. It feels good, for some reason, to do this mundane task for you.

This newfound feeling only solidifies when you smile brightly at him, breaking the fruit into two halves and handing one part to Hyunjin.

You no longer look like you want to run. You look content here, simply sharing an orange with him.

Hyunjin suddenly wants to buy you a whole crate of tangerines. Maybe even a farm of it- just trees upon trees that he can plant for you. He chases the thought away, he's only seven, he doesn't have money, where would he even store the oranges?

Hyunjin didn't have the answer to this question, nor the million ones swirling in his mind. But he knew your smile, the kindness in your eyes, the lingering scent of oranges on his fingers, even after washing his hands. And the word that sat heavy on his soul, from that night forth.

Hyunjin knew he loved you when he was seven years old.

there is nothing wrong contemplating God; under the chemtrails over the country club

"Found you," Hyunjin whispers, reclining on the rooftop near you.

"Wasn't hiding from you," you respond just as softly, your gaze fixed on the turquoise sky overhead. Your words cause Hyunjin's heart to swell within his chest, growing, expanding, pushing against his ribs, yearning to escape and splatter at your feet.

His emotions were always so grand- his happiness consuming his entire being, the sadness, the loneliness rattling his bones with an invincible cold. Then the love for you, not in dependence, the way the planets orbit around the sun. But with choice, because he wants to, craves being near.

"What are you doing?" he asks after a while, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Watching the chemtrails," you point out a tiny plane leaving a white trail in the sky.

"It looks so far away," he whispers in wonder, and you hum with a melancholic expression. Hyunjin curls his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smooth the delicate frown etched on your brows.

"Didn't you like your birthday celebration?" he finally asks. He knows the answer before you quietly say, 'yes.' You were never one for the chic attire, the fine china and polished silverware reflecting the guests fake smiles. You only ever came to the country club for Hyunjin.

"I just... these people are here for me, supposedly. And yet, I feel so invisible downstairs. I bet no one even noticed my absence."

"I did," he replies instantly, contradicting you vehemently, wanting to dispel the shadows that cloud your mind. "And... I brought you an orange," he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It grows when you beam at him, the chemtrails momentarily forgotten.

"Did you?"

"Mm, here," he swiftly peels the fruit for you, instinctively breaking it into two halves.

"I'm sixteen and I don't know how to peel a tangerine because of you," you giggle, biting into one part eagerly. Water dribbles down the side of your mouth, and Hyunjin delicately wipes it away, his hand cradling your jaw gently.

His heart beats wildly, drowning out the country club's orchestra. He's never been this close to you, noses nearly bumping into one another.

"Don't learn how to," he whispers, licking his lips nervously. He hopes you can't feel the tremor in his hand as it slides down your cheek.

"Why?"

"Then you won't need me anymore," he says honestly, and your eyes widen at his words. Say it, his heart pleads, I can't contain this love anymore. Hyunjin shakes his head, silencing his own thoughts. He'll make room for it; his heart will expand, even if it means bursting at the seams. He can't face your rejection.

"Can I ask you something?" you say after a while, still as close to him.

"Anything."

"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere? You have friends and family, but you feel like..."

"Nobody's son?" he suggests.

"Yeah, nobody's daughter."

"Maybe we're not meant to belong to anyone else but ourselves."

"Isn't that sad?" you ask, bringing an orange wedge to Hyunjin's mouth. "What if I don't always have myself?"

"Well, you'll always have me."

"Do you promise me?" you ask eagerly, eyes wide, tone almost desperate.

"I promise." The fog dissipates, light spilling over your face once again.

"Even though you're so sought after?" you giggle.

"I'm not!"

"You are! Everybody wanted to talk to you downstairs. You're always the man of the hour," you wink, lying down on the floor once again.

"Really? I didn't notice," he says, settling next to you.

"Mm, you never notice anything," you sigh, resting your cheek atop his shoulder.

It's quiet again, save for the tranquil sound of your breaths. Your eyes are trained on the sky, following the path of each plane.

"They look really tiny."

"Maybe we're the small ones," you muse.

Hyunjin doesn't agree. Not when his love for you feels almost ancient, drawn from the depths of the very first fountain of love. It has stayed with him for nine years, intermingled with the very molecules of his being. You can't be small when what he feels for you is grander than the world.

"Maybe we are," he says as he slides an arm underneath your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Hyune," you call out softly.

"Mm?" he hums in reply.

"What do you think you're made for?"

I'm here to love you, he wants to say, achingly, fully, on your grand days and your small ones. To fall apart at the altar of your soul and to rise anew, by you, for you. To be yours.

"I'm here to peel you oranges." He whispers instead, his confession, for now.

"And I'm here to eat them, then."

we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool; it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me

"Did you know you have a straight trail of moles on your back?" Hyunjin whispers, his cool breath akin to a gentle zephyr.

"It starts here," he bestows a tender kiss beneath your shoulder blade, as if marking the start of a constellation. "Then you have another one here," his lips brush against your skin, coaxing forth delicate goosebumps, like ripples on a moonlit pond. "And here," he trails down your spine, his mouth weaving a trail only he can see. "And a final one here," he lingers longer near the last mole, lips meeting your lower back delicately, akin to the tender graze of a feather.

If you had told Hyunjin that he would freely kiss your moles, hands trailing down your skin scented with chlorine and vanilla, he would have thought you were insane. But now he has you, because you want him too, against all odds. Hyunjin wasn't alone in his love; every emotion in your soul mirrored his own. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same tangerine.

"And then... it wraps around your stomach," he flips you around until you face him, giddy giggles escaping your lips. "You see it? It goes right here, another straight line," he whispers in wonder, tracing over the moles on your skin as if in worship. There is so much he longs to articulate, words yearning to spill from his mouth. He realizes he can say them now, drape them over your body like a blanket knitted with love.

"Someone plucked stars and arranged them on your skin. You're a galaxy on your own, you know that right? So beautiful," he whispers, eyes wide in adulation, raking over each feature of yours, so much they're seared behind his eyelids. The only sight he sees when he goes to sleep.

"So are you," you smile, hands gently cradling his cheeks. Hands that held him at age seven, then eight, ten, thirteen, and twenty. Hands that dried his tears, patted his back, and played with his hair. Hands that are much more sacred than his own.

"No, you don't understand," he hovers over you, gently smoothing down your hair. "You're so beautiful, so much it dizzies me, consumes me. You consume me, entirely, and I-" He sucks in a deep breath as you smile lovingly, reassuringly.

"I know," you say. "I feel it too."

"I can't believe this is real," he shakes his head, thumb tracing your lower lip gently. "I didn't even plan on confessing when i brought you to this pool. And yet... it feels natural for us to be this way."

You nod, grinning. "Like we belong to one another."

"I told you I'd stay," his eyes soften, capturing you with the same tenderness as always, savoring every part of you.

"You always keep your promises," you smile, hand sliding down the nape of his neck, smoothing a stubborn tuft of hair.

Normal, that's the elusive term he was looking for. It is normal for him to hold you, to kiss you, to look into your eyes and find love swimming in your irises. It is the way it's supposed to be between you. He couldn't ever think of another outcome.

His eyes trail down to your arm, where two moles match perfectly with his, down to the placement, the space separating them both.

"Is this where we kissed each other the most in our past lives?" he trails off, knuckles brushing against your arm gently. You mirror his touch.

"So you believe we're soulmates?"

"Mm, I've always known."

"And why didn't you tell me?" you grin, tilting your head to the side.

"I peeled you tangerines."

His words seem to ignite something within you, memories of each time he peeled you oranges flooding back. Every birthday, each time you were sad, every time the fruit was near.

You stand up, straddling Hyunjin's lap, and then you kiss his eye mole, then the one on his cheek, trailing down his jaw mole, his neck, his arms.

"What are you doing?" he giggles, warm hands on your lower back.

"Making sure those moles show up in our next life too."

And at your words, Hyunjin swore that the citrusy scent of tangerines suddenly wafted in the air.

washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night TV i want you only

Your legs are comfortably propped on top of Hyunjin's, matching pairs of beige pajamas seamlessly merging into one another. The sweet scent of shampoo lingers in the air—a fragrance Hyunjin carefully massaged into your hair twenty minutes ago, his fingers still as gentle as they grazed your scalp, now at the age of twenty-six.

Nearly two decades later, Hyunjin still knows that he loves you. It is a different one from the love he felt at seven—a metamorphosis akin to the moon's phases, from crescent to full, distinct yet continuous. It clung to his being, melted into the very essence of his soul.

"Just how many white shirts do you own?" you giggle, folding another pair of Hyunjin's clothing, the melody of your laughter still rattling the insides of his heart. He smiles sheepishly, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before responding, "You wear half of them with me."

"Your clothes are mine. You agreed on this when you proposed to me," you state matter-of-factly.

"And what else did I agree on?" he smiles, placing two pairs of matching socks in the basket—yours and his.

"That you'd kiss me instead of doing the laundry," you say mischievously, and he chuckles, tilting his head back. The clothes are momentarily forgotten as he lowers your body onto the couch, one hand cradling your head.

"You know I can't say no to you," he smiles, left dimple appearing as it always does when you're near.

"I know," you grin, pulling him down by the hem of his pajamas, your lips meeting his.

Hyunjin still kisses you with the same quiet passion, slowly, as if rediscovering you all over again. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently, as his lips find yours again and again—rosy, plump, seeking solace in your familiar warmth.

He's always been drawn to mysteries, grand things, and overwhelming emotions that defy comprehension. Things he'd never fully know, things he'd never be bored of. Yet, with you, it's different; he knows you, he's learned you, and he loves you more every day—purposefully, by choice, because he can't fathom a reality where he doesn't.

His lips press upon yours one last time before he pulls you onto his lap, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell nice," he whispers.

"I smell like you."

"I know," he smiles, a gentle breeze escaping his lips and caressing your skin.

He closes his eyes, savoring the quietness, the domesticity of the scene—the folded laundry on the table, the background hum of the TV, the meal you'll cook later, waltzing under the fridge's light. You, the one love of his life—the small love and the grand one, the first love and the last one. The embodiment of it all.

Your arms drape around his shoulders as you relax in his hold, your breaths syncing into a tranquil rhythm. He's built himself a home in the ridges of your collarbones, a place for him to rest in the crook of your shoulder blade. Both of you are okay, both of you are safe.

"Do you remember when we were seven? We traveled together for the first time," you speak after a while, a weighty emotion enveloping your voice.

"I do."

"You promised me we'd run away when we grow older."

"I did."

"I don't want to run anymore. I'm content with you, right here," you whisper, and the words feel like sunflowers blooming in Hyunjin's chest. "I was so scared of growing up, of never feeling like I belong. To myself, to anyone. But I do, with you."

"Always," he pulls away, bringing your hand to his mouth, leaving sweet kisses on your ring finger.

"Thank you, my Hyune," you say, tears gathering in your eyes like morning dewdrops on leaves. "Thank you for peeling my oranges."

Your nose brushes against his, his thumb drawing circles on your palm.

"Thank you for pretending you don't know how to."

[lshlnquohe]

Chat help why r they both so gorgeous im going cray Cray ☹️☹️☹️

[2022dirt]

When dough gets tossed in the trash, the yeast keeps rising and expanding endlessly, even in the dumpster.

[kingstarkingslay]

………………………………um………………………………………………

why am I just finding out about this?

(R.I.P. Remus Lupin, I’m glad you didn’t have to witness this)

[thecheesyboi1315]

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK????

TO STEAL OR NOT TO STEAL WILL BE REMOVED FROM NETFLIX DECEMBER 1ST, 2024. Here's what you need to know:

This news was announced on November 4th via this article. Almost all other Netflix Interactives will be removed, too, not just TSONTS. This means that TSONTS will no longer be legally available anywhere after this month.

To Steal or Not to Steal is currently available in full on Youtube. However, it's unknown if/when these videos may be taken down. Additionally, these videos do not have the option to select the choices presented to you yourself, which is integral to an interactive special.

These videos do not have certain elements of TSONTS that I particularly love and want to preserve. So, my friends and I are going to work on preserving it on our own, in the highest quality we can and with interactive features. We hope to make this accessible once we are done with it. If you want to keep tabs on that, I'll be posting an update at some point in the future

You might be wondering, is there anything we can do to stop stuff like this from happening in the future? And YES, there is! Support The Animation Guild, who are negotiating with big companies like Netflix to stop unfair treatment like this! I encourage you to sign TAG's petition!

STAND WITH ANIMATION!

[becasbelt]

what do you MEAN the berlin orchestra recorded the tracks for arcane season 2. what do you MEAN the bomb-ass, scary as hell music that plays while caitlyn is being thrust into the role of dictator is the fucking berlin scoring orchestra. was ANYONE going to tell me that or did i just have to find out by surprise while shaking and crying and shitting myself over the soundtrack.

[suspensefulpen]

Realize

TW: Conditioned Whumpee, Kidnapping, Carewhumper, Stockholm Syndrome

Whumpee smiled as they got comfortable in their seat across from Caretaker. They almost felt they weren’t fancy enough for this.

Caretaker had it all. They were gorgeous, wealthy and everyone loved them. Whumpee felt as if they were a peasant that had been invited into a royal palace. Even the wine they had been provided with tasted royal.

It almost reminded them of their time with Whumper.

He had it all too. He had the same wealth and the same gorgeousness. But not everyone loved him like they loved Caretaker. Whumpee never understood why.

Whumper had always been nice to Whumpee. He never raised his voice, he never scolded them, he never yelled at them. Yet everyone treats him as if he was a bad guy. He never did anything wrong to Whumpee, and they could prove it.

But clearly that proof was not enough. Otherwise Whumpee would be sitting in Whumper’s mansion right now. Not Caretaker’s. It pained Whumpee that they may not ever be able to see him again.

“I miss Whumper.”

Caretaker instantly stopped smiling. They lowered their wine glass to rest on the table between the two of them. Their ringed pointer finger pressed against their temple as they stared.

“Whumpee do you realize the situation you were just in?” They asked.

Whumpee lowered their gaze to their own bare fidgeting hands in their lap. “I mean he didn’t do anything wrong. He just—”

“No.” Caretaker held their hand up. “No, no, no, you’re not about to say that to me.” They dropped their hand and leaned forward. “Do you not understand what was happening to you Whumpee?”

“It’s not that, I—”

“No, no. I don’t think you do. Do you realize that Whumper was hurting you? He kidnapped you and brainwashed you Whumpee! There is nothing ‘not wrong’ about that. Normal people don’t erase your identity and replace it with one they can completely and fully control. Normal people don’t hold people hostage just to ‘have a companion.’ Normal people don’t take other people from their loved ones for several years just to ‘take care’ of them. I don’t know what the hell he’s been saying to you all these years but you need to realize that he was hurting you. He did not care about you, he just wanted to hurt you and use you.”

Whumpee’s now watery gaze stayed glued to their moving hands as their voice wavered. “But he wasn’t hurting me—”

“Yes he was! And the sooner you realize that, the better.”

[rhulksdiscordkitten]

HELLO ?

[dirtydragonthoughts]

Hey, so, uh... What the fuck? Who is a) importing Przewalski's horses into the US and b) selling them at livestock auctions as mules or just surrendering them to rescues?

(For reference, there are about 2500 Przewalski's horses in the world. They are considered one of the last truly wild horses (and may even be a separate subspecies from the domestic horse). Their numbers dwindled to as few as 40 individuals in the 1950s to about 2500 today. About half are in captivity with zoos and conversation programs.)

(Article)

[rrat-king]

the dice wealth disparity this episode is so fucking funny to me i'm gonna be real

[outofcontextdiscord]

submitted by @jones0-bones0

[copperbadge]

So, recently I got an email telling me that I'm seeing a play in Chicago next week. Which was news to me.

I do occasionally forget when I've bought tickets to an event, but the play, per the email, is Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and I would have had to be in a fuckin' fugue state to buy those to start with.

It had a link where I could claim the tickets, so I kind of assumed it was either a phishing scheme or someone put my email address into the slot instead of theirs, like our email addresses were one letter off or something. There was a very slim chance someone bought it for me as a birthday gift but I didn't think I knew anyone who knew me well enough to blow that kind of money on me but didn't know me well enough to know my thoughts on JK Rowling.

In any case I forwarded it to customer service like "Hey, I didn't buy these tickets, is this a legit email from you guys? If so it went to the wrong address. Unless the name Sam [surname] is on the tickets, it's not for me."

Bout half an hour later they hit me back with an actual receipt. "Oh no, they're under [my legal name], see? These are a gift from an organization that buys tickets for military veterans and their families! Enjoy the show!"

....now, I'm not a veteran, and nobody in my family is either (well, my grandfathers, but they're long dead). Still, the tickets are undeniably in my name. So I had to hit them back like "So....I'm not a veteran..."

They're now very confused but handling it internally, so I don't have to stay involved now that I've convinced them I'm not Staff Sergeant Sam Starbuck or whatnot.

But I do find it very amusing that I am, for all intents and purposes, at the moment the possessor of STOLEN VALOR THEATRE TICKETS.

[elianzis]

SOOO...WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

First off, I apologize for tagging artists, but you should know about this shit.

I'll quickly bring you up to speed.

YouTube has slowed down in Russia and the authorities are "recommending" to move to domestic platforms like Rutube, which of course can't compete with YouTube in any way.

So, even earlier my friends and I faced that our work was reuploaded to Rutube without our knowledge.

And this afternoon kind people, threw a couple of screenshots with reuploads to RuTube also other artists. I will attach all these screenshots to this post. Among the artists I know are: @anniflamma @gigizetz @wolfythewitch @mircsy

Unfortunately, RuTube has a very shitty system of copyright reports, where they ask you to provide your personal data (passport, address and DOCUMENTS that prove your copyright), so last time with friends this situation was let go, because there were no serious hits there.

Unfortunately, the only possibility now is to try to throw technical reports, but this is also unlikely to work. I will also attach links here for some animations

I'm very sorry for this..

[2022dirt]

Outlines of two alligators that slept through the rain.

[socialbutterfly19]

I’m not ashamed