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p1hypen · 1 year ago

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TERRIBLE TWOS — P. SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)

GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI

A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3

“Y/n?”

A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.

Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.

When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.

Time stills and so does he.

Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat.

Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.

“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you.

Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you.

“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility.

How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts.

“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”

His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex.

See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him.

Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.

With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives.

That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.

He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.

Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.

On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.

“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest.

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now.

He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart.

A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions.

“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin.

Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer.

“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here.

A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self.

The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.

Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.

“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“

Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.

Can you blame him? It was so sudden.

The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming.

Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions.

“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.”

The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with.

“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?”

“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?”

“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”

Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.

Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer?

You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette.

Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by.

The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40.

Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival.

“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.

After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce.

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.

“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other.

Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…

“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you.

You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.

“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.

You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that.

He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.

“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.

“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.

You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.

Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him.

But that’s the thing.

It’s only Sunghoon.

It’s just Sunghoon.

So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him?

So what if you want him back…

You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner.

You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.

You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.

When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures.

“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises.

You let out a resigned sigh.

You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open.

Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.

“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain.

It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple.

You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.

“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.

You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again.

“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.

Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape.

“You’re still cute, y’know that?”

The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has.

You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home.

“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit.

“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed.

You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort,

“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.”

He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.

Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.

Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it.

The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.

“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face.

You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin.

“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.

Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight.

Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start.

“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question.

“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.

He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.

You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table.

Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins…

When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.

He has to be doing this on purpose now.

You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting.

You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.

This is going to be a long dinner.

After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.

You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.

As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer.

Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud.

You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.

“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.

You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…”

A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones.

During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.

Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel.

In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.

You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts.

When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.

“Y/n, look at me.”

You raise your head, complying to his soft demand.

“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.

“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”

A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.

The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.

No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair.

You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.

Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’

“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.

“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.

Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.”

You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back…

Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you.

Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.

You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.

You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.

Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom.

Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers?

You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex.

“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire.

The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.

Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him.

His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured.

When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.

Your grip on the door handle tightens.

“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?”

The male smiles with his eyes.

“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.”

Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building.

The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion.

When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.

You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home.

“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door.

You let out a rigged breath.

“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."

He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.

If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.

As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.

He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”

Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.

You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment.

Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.

The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape.

In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces.

You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble.

Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.

The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events.

His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles.

“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.”

Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.

His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.

He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.

He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.

Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone.

“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips.

Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on.

Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips.

You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.

You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render.

In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.

“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl.

He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.

“Your turn, babe.”

He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.

“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.

“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.

He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.

“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.

“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.

“No? Use your words baby.”

You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.

“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.

“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.

“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.

“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.

Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.

Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.

He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.

His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.

You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.

You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.

“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.

“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.

His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.

Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.

“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.

The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.

You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”

“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ��pop’ sound.

“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”

You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”

“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.

You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’

Sunghoon’s ears redden.

“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”

Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.

Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.

His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.

Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.

“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”

You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.

“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”

“O-okay, Hoonie…”

Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.

“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.

“Shit—“ He curses.

Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.

“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.

“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“

Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.

“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”

“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.

Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.

“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”

Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.

“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.

“Yes?” He inquires.

“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.

Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”

You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”

Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.

“We don’t have to.”

Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.

You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.

“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.

“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”

Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.

“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”

You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.

“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”

Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”

“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”

“Where it all started.”

You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.

“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.

His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.

“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”

Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.

Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.

Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.

True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.

Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.

#cgi-aenergy #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enha #park sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon enhypen #minors dni

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kaeyacollection · 4 months ago

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In celebration of Diluc and Kaeya's new Theater cosmetic, I bring to you the reason behind THIS post,

"Did Diluc ever actually disown Kaeya?"

(TL;DR & art at the end)

Yeah that's right we're getting into some technicalities thanks to Knaves line about assumptions ✨️

Because who the hell decided it was a good idea to let Kaeya control the narrative uncontested?

Now, now, I hear you loudly already: He burned that boy, Diluc's an ass to him, Kaeya was banned from the household, Kaeya hasn't called him brother in YEARS, and of course,

KAEYA TOOK A FLAMING SWORD TO THE FACE

All of that would reasonably be acts of disownment without having to say the word, but when has Genshin ever been reasonable?

And while I can go on for an incredibly long time, dissecting every scene the brothers have so much as been hinted in, for you, my dear readers, I will refrain and focus on the main points 💖

Firstly, let's stray away from the main points and see what the staff thinks about all of this ✨️ Of course, they're working with limited knowledge of what happened, but it's a good place to start. We have Adelinde assuming it's Diluc's pride keeping him from setting things right, Tunner notices a problem with Kaeya but assumes he's seen as an outsider to the Dawn Winery's Family and is excluded from such talks, and Elzer, who believes while Diluc is stubborn, wouldn't actually send Kaeya away

[Adelinde's idle line, Tunner from Kaeya's Hangout, and Elzer's Hidden Strife Letter]

"When will Master Diluc finally resolve his issues with Master Kaeya."

"We did not refuse him, however. We believe that even if you were here, you would not refuse him outright."

And while that may have been true in the beginning, the staff have certainly realized the only person they need to convince to let Kaeya stay, is Kaeya

So what's the brothers issue with one another? Well, they're both incredibly petty for one, and then there's the issue where no one in their lives know enough about the situation to be able to mediate their fighting (even the Traveler doesn't know Kaeya's full story just yet).

Hell, it's not even just that they need a peacekeeper either. The dialog can't even BEGIN because it would be inappropriate for the staff to set it up, Diluc lost his right to start this talk in the flames of that night, and Kaeya knows what happened the last time he tried to have a one on one 🤷 So instead the brothers are left making various biting remarks 'cause Tyvat doesn't have therapy

"It's been years, Kaeya doesn't even blame him, he should step up 😤" Well, lately, he's been trying to. Shocking, I know. Diluc is still learning how to navigate this new personality his brother developed in his absence, and not only is he doing a terrible job at it but he's also frustrated

Between inviting Kaeya to dinner and getting rejected, trying to voice concern and being hit with venom, and only being able to keep Kaeya around if there's wine involved...

It's frustrating knowing the other person has every right to walk away, no matter how much you want to fix it. Besides, WE might know Kaeya doesn't blame him,

but Diluc clearly doesn't.

"Why doesn't he introduce Kaeya as his brother then?"

Do we see Diluc introduce Kaeya at all?

What we do have is Diluc saying he's not his "bro" in the webcomic, which has been pointed out as not being in a family sense but as buddies. Which is absolutely how "bro" is used in my area as well 🤷 but for Diluc, why the hell would he ever want to be friends with his brother? Diluc has set up the situation to be All or Nothing. Either they're brothers or they're nothing at all. And Diluc's tried the Nothing course. He kept Kaeya at a distance from his vigilante business, allowed him to revoke his place in the household (both in calling Crepus father and moving out), and keeping his distance from his brother in general [Kaeya's letter in Hidden Strife that Diluc receives before making himself scarce]

"The Grand Master has assigned the Cavalry Company to this mission. As such, I will be paying you a visit in three days. He seems to think that our relationship can be improved if we are forced to talk in person. Don’t worry, though. My lips are sealed. This will be nothing more than a formality. Anyways, three days’ notice should be enough for you, I presume?"

We know that none of that went as intended

I mean Kaeya's response to being kept away from Diluc's Dark Knight Hero business is to repeatedly show him he IS in on it just by the fact he's keeping it a secret. Hidden Strife Diluc finally talks about, albeit strained, partnership he has with the Knights now where they'll watch eachothers backs. And of course my absolute favorite of their interactions,

Diluc asking if Kaeya can cool it on the drinking, and Kaeya deciding a reasonable response is:

Or what? :) you gonna throw me out with the trash? :)

And Diluc deciding Kaeya's cut off point is whenever he starts getting sassy

[K: Any GOOD bar would have SNACKS 😤😤😤 D: aaaaaaand you're done]

I know I said you can thank the Knave for this post and that's because her line finally helped me pin down Diluc's Summer Conch dialog

"I didn't know you still remembered anything from back then... Huh."

Diluc actions line up with the bitterness of being left behind by someone who's still around.

Someone he's not willing to actually let go of

[Inviting him to dinner, saying he'd normally join Kaeya when he had the time, serving Kaeya at the bar, drinking with him outside Angels Share, drinking with him at Cats Tail, abandoning the business he claimed to have at the Cats Tail just to chase after kaeya when finding out about his tcg card (despite already admitting it doesn't bother him)]

TL;DR: If Diluc did disown Kaeya, he's doing a terrible job at following through.

Art by the wonderful Remy

#diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #ragbros #Kaeya #Kaeya Alberich #genshin

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hbyrde36 · 3 months ago

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Midsummer Nights (a.k.a Summer Camp Fic)

It's finally here! This one has been percolating for a while, and I'm so glad to have the start of the story written and out there. Updates might be a little sporadic until my Steddie big bang is complete, but I'm so excited to finally give this fic some attention!

WC: 3154 | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | Ch 1/? | AO3

Chapter 1

Steve had been a camper at Sunset Lake since almost before he could remember.

He was seven that first summer, and hadn’t spent more than a night away from his own bed before, for sleepovers with family or childhood friends.

Regardless, his parents didn’t hesitate to dump him off in the middle of nowhere upstate for the full eight weeks the camp ran, with total strangers, many of whom were hardly more than kids themselves, the second he was old enough to attend. From then on, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington spent their own summers partying it up at the country club, pretending they didn’t have a son.

It used to hurt, having the fact that they didn’t give a shit about him shoved so blatantly in his face. When he was still young and hopeful he would wait patiently by the front gates every visitor’s day, hoping that the next car full of visiting parents and family would be for him.

It never was.

And by the time he turned eleven, he had stopped waiting.

He also stopped signing up for activities that he had chosen only to impress his dad, like tennis, basketball, rock climbing—even if he was good at them—and instead began to fill his days with art, theater, and music. Anything that caught his interest, even if he was terrible at it.

Suddenly he lived for those eight weeks of summer that used to leave him feeling so lonely and unloved. Knowing it was the one place, the one time of year, where he could be the most himself. And he was too busy with performances and showing off the projects he’d completed on visitor’s days to think too much about the fact that no one ever came to see him.

That was how he met Robin, his best friend and platonic soulmate. They were twelve and had both auditioned for roles in Shakespeare in the Summer, a series of famous scenes from the playwright's works, a pet project of the counselor who ran the theater department meant to be the big final show at the end of camp that year. They got the roles of Romeo and Juliet, respectively.

As they rehearsed he developed a very small, but still very embarrassing crush on his co-star and eventually confessed, knowing he would feel guilty about kissing her if she didn’t know how he felt.

Robin broke it to him gently, explaining that while she’d grown to like him a lot, as a friend, over the time they’d been working on their scene together, he just wasn’t her type.

The last bit was said with a particular significance, but Steve, oblivious to what she was so subtly trying to convey, had protested that he was everyone’s type. She’d rolled her eyes and given him a fond, if exasperated, smile, and after swearing him to secrecy, put it in plain terms he could understand.

She was a lesbian.

Robin liked girls, exclusively, and her tastes ran long in soft skin, cherry red lips, and blonde ponytails—all of which Steve, for better or worse, lacked.

It was the 90’s, and the world was slowly changing, so it wasn't as if Steve had never heard of gay people before… it's just that he had never met one in real life. He accepted her immediately, his crush gone in a flash like it had never existed, and felt a kinship with her snap into place that he didn’t quite understand at the time, but was so obvious looking back.

In the end they faked the kiss. Steve grabbed Robin’s face with both hands and all the faux passion he could muster, slipping his thumbs between their lips at the last second to keep them from crossing that particular line, and she had trusted him to do it.

They were inseparable from that day forward.

As promised, he kept her secret, and exactly one year later after coming to terms with a few realizations of his own—namely that he wasn’t as straight as he assumed, that in fact, he wasn’t sure he actually liked girls at all—when he confessed a secret of his own as they walked along the edge of the lake before curfew, he knew she would do the same for him.

This summer they were eighteen, part of the graduating class of 1999, on the brink of college, and finally old enough to be hired as full fledged counselors with paychecks and days off and everything.

Not that it paid much, but Steve wasn’t in it for the money. He was in it for the love of the place. Sunset Lake Camp had become a second home to him over the last decade of his life, his real home, and the people there like family. There were always a few new faces that came and went, but most of the kids and staff alike came back year after year like him.

Robin was mainly in it for Steve, excited at the prospect of getting to spend the entire Summer with him for once instead of the single session, two short weeks, she was used to—all her folks had been able to afford each year growing up.

It was poised to be the best summer of Steve’s life.

Then he met Eddie.

Pre-camp was exactly what it sounded like. A full week of cleaning, painting, maintenance, and general setting up of the place before the first crop of kids was set to arrive. It wasn’t mandatory for the staff, and some counselors wouldn’t even arrive until the day before the first session began, but it did come with an extra paycheck and the opportunity to get out of his parents house that much sooner.

Steve was so in.

And naturally, that meant Robin was too.

They both arrived mid afternoon. Steve had driven himself in his beloved second hand BMW all the way from Hawkins, his excitement mounting as the scenery changed, flat boring highways finally giving way to lush green rolling hills and mountains, the roads eventually going from asphalt, to crushed stone, to dirt as he turned onto camp property and made his way to the employee parking lot. Robin arrived just after, her parents' car rolling to a stop next to his while he was still unloading his duffel bags from the trunk.

Steve had offered to pick her up on his way so they could ride in together, it wouldn’t have added that much time to his own trip, but Mr. and Mrs. Buckley would never give up the opportunity to see their only daughter off for the summer, no matter how old she was. They were good parents, and just plain good people.

Robin was horribly embarrassed by the sheer number of hugs they gave her, and Steve, before finally getting back in their car to head home, and he couldn’t help wondering if she knew how lucky she was. His own parents had hardly looked up from their coffee when he’d said goodbye to them that morning.

“How was the drive?” Robin asked with her face squished against Steve's chest, as he pulled her in for his own bone-crushing hug. God he fucking missed her. Emails and once a week phone calls just weren’t enough. Damn long distance fees.

“Long, boring, the usual.” He said, pulling away from her reluctantly.

In truth he didn’t mind the long journey. It was nice getting to shut his brain off, and sing along at full volume to whatever songs had made it on American Top 40 with Casey Kasem that week.

The low rumble and put-put-put of an old engine had them both looking up, signaling the arrival of Director Hopper in his ancient pickup truck, its tires kicking up dirt and rocks no matter how slowly he drove.

The truck rolled to a stop in front of them, and the man behind the wheel leaned out the open window to wave. “Long time no see, kids!”

“Hop,” Robin whined, “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Oh! My apologies—Miss Buckley, Mister Harrington.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Okay, now you're just being mean.”

Hopper threw his head back and laughed, before stepping out of the truck. “You know you’ll always be kids to me.”

After another round of hugs the man helped load their stuff up into the back, then helped both of them climb up on top of their piled luggage.

As the truck bumped along slowly towards the north side of the campus, where the bunks were, Hopper slid open the back window of the truck so he could shout out to them.

“Me and Joyce got two of the cabins fixed up already so you-all have someplace clean to sleep tonight. One for the women, one for the men.” Hopper’s eyes narrowed as he stared them down through his rearview mirror. He, along with almost everyone else, thought they were dating and had been for years. If he only knew how wrong he was. “Dinner is at six tonight in the dining hall, and I suggest you settle in and relax till then. The real work starts tomorrow.”

“You sure you don't need help with anything today?” Steve asked, sticking his head through the little window to make sure the older man could hear him.

“Thanks kid, but I got it covered. All that’s left today really is picking up a few international staff from the airport. I would have been on my way there already, but the flight got delayed, not due in till late tonight now.”

It was one of Steve’s favorite things about this place, getting to meet and make friends with all sorts of people from all over the world. The cultural exchange program that the camp worked with brought in support staff and counselors from other countries that wanted to come work for the summer, many of them visiting America for the very first time.

Soon enough they came to the end of the road, hooking a left through a break in the trees and came out into a huge clearing. Two giant half circles made up of small white and green buildings faced each other, with a wide open field between them where, in a week’s time, kids would be found lounging around on towels and blankets in the sun, or throwing frisbees and baseballs to each other during their free period.

Hopper pulled over on the girl’s side, which was fair—if sexist—considering Robin had more stuff than Steve did, and got them unloaded before quickly heading off with a reminder about dinner.

Robin slid her backpack on and began to drag her small trunk up the old wooden steps of the cabin.

Steve heaved her big duffel bag over his shoulder and moved to follow, but she spun abruptly, letting the trunk drop, slapping a hand hard against his chest before his foot even made contact with the lowest board.

“Woah, woah, woah, where do you think you’re going?” She asked.

“Seriously? I’m just trying to help you with your stuff!”

“Yes, seriously! You know boys aren't allowed in the girl’s cabins!” She whispered boys as though it were a dirty word.

Steve snorted. “I’m pretty sure those rules are for the campers, Rob, not us, and what could possibly happen?! There’s no two people on the planet less likely to hook up than you and me.”

“Yeah but people don’t know that, Harrington!”

She was right. As much as camp had always been Steve's safe haven, his sexuality was still something he felt the need to hide, as did Robin. They just couldn’t be sure how their peers would react, and he wanted to believe Hopper would be accepting and open minded but what if he wasn’t? What if he fired them, or used it as an excuse not to invite them back to work next year, because parents might freak out if they knew their children were being ‘exposed to the gays’?

Steve couldn’t lose this place, for that reason or any other.

He tossed her bag up the short staircase and onto the porch, letting his shoulders slump in defeat.

“Don’t pout. I just don't want to get in trouble on our first day,” Robin said.

“Yeah, me either,” he agreed.

“Good. Now move along to your own bunk.” She dropped her voice down low, looking around before she spoke again, wriggling her eyebrows. “I’m sure Jonathan will be around to help you get settled in.”

“You’re never gonna let me live that stupid crush down, are you?”

“Nope.”

“It was two years ago!” Steve hissed.

“I still say you had a chance.”

Steve sighed heavily. “Even if he wasn’t straight—” he began but Robin cut him off with a judgy stare.

“You don’t know that.” She said.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But even if he wasn't, I told you, I'm not getting in the middle of whatever on-again off-again dance he and Nancy are doing.”

Robin tilted her head from side to side. “That’s fair. She scares me.”

“Me too.”

Jonathan was, as a matter of fact, already at the men’s temporary cabin, greeting Steve with a hug and everything, and offering to help him carry his stuff inside. Not that he’d be telling Robin any of that.

His brief crush had been nothing short of awkward. They’d known each other since they were little, Jonathan’s mom being the camp nurse, and Hopper becoming his and his brother Will’s stepfather a few years ago, and out of nowhere Steve couldn’t even have a conversation with the guy without blushing and stuttering. Thankfully, the other boy’s sad little puppy dog eyes didn’t really do anything for him anymore.

They talked a little, making the usual catching up small talk that you do with people you know well but maybe aren't truly friends with, and soon were joined by a new face, fresh off a days long road trip from California.

Argyle greeted Steve and Jonathan like they were all long lost pals. He had the longest, shiniest hair, the most colorful wardrobe Steve had ever seen, and his smile was infectious. He also absolutely reeked of weed, and within minutes had talked Jonathan into taking a walk in the woods with him to “open their minds”. It was clear the two stoners were well on their way to becoming best friends.

Steve left them to it, knowing Robin would kill him if he showed up to dinner high and smelling of smoke.

He chose a bed by the door and started making it up, tucking the sheets in tight and tossing his ugly plaid comforter on top. There was no point in really unpacking until they got their final bunk assignments, the night before the kids came, so after pulling out a few random t-shirts, shorts, and a bathing suit, and shoving them all into one of the cubby holes built into the walls of the cabin, Steve grabbed his discman and headphones and went to lay out in the sun.

It was late, well past midnight and Steve had been tossing and turning for the last several hours. He never slept well on the first night of camp, the quiet always taking a little time for him to get used to, and It was no wonder he heard the soft footfalls of someone walking up the steps of the cabin.

The door opened slowly, revealing a figure painted in silhouette by moonlight. A riot of wild hair, and a guitar case slung across the boy’s back were all Steve could make out at first through his barely slitted eyelids.

He watched, careful not to move too much and give away that he was awake as the boy quietly closed the door behind himself, and tiptoed further into the cabin, tossing his stuff down beside the bunk right next to Steve’s. It meant Steve had a perfect view of the newcomer’s backside as he bent to slide his guitar under the mattress frame and unzipped his bag. He straightened with an arm full of linens and hastily made up the bed, not even tucking the bottom corners of his fitted sheet in before throwing a quilt over the whole thing and calling it done, and began to undress.

Steve swallowed hard, knowing he should probably look away now, or at least close his eyes, if for no other reason than to put on a better show of being asleep in case the other boy’s gaze swung his way, but he was enthralled.

The unfamiliar figure was still blanketed in shadow, but stood close enough now that Steve could make out a pair of huge sparkling dark eyes, brown he assumed, though the night had a way of stealing all the color from the world, to go with the boy’s even darker curls. A rounded nose and full pouty lips made up the rest of a face that would, Steve was fairly certain, now and forever haunt his dreams, as well as his every waking thought.

He wanted to scream.

He’d never felt so drawn to someone at first sight before. How much worse would it be once he saw this vision of beauty in daylight?

Powerless to resist the urge, Steve let his gaze roam down past the curve of the other boy’s jaw, eyes drinking in whatever details they could. The bob of an adams apple as he swallowed, the outline of his collarbones, black and gray markings on his chest and arms—tattoos that Steve couldn’t quite make out the shapes of. A trail of dark hair ran from his navel to the top of his pants, stark and inviting against pale white skin.

The boy reached for the button on his jeans and Steve did look away then. It was one thing to see the same skin that might be on display when someone took their top off down by the lake or at the pool, but another to ogle someone below the belt when they didn’t even know they were being watched.

Second passed and a dull thump had Steve snapping his eyes back open, grateful the other boy still had his boxers on at least, so he didn’t feel like too much of a creep.

“Bollocks,” the stranger cursed softly, hopping on one foot for a second as he sucked air between his teeth, nursing a stubbed toe.

Steve’s stomach flipped at the sound of his voice.

International, right. He had an accent. Of course he did, obviously, Steve just hadn’t thought—

Why was that so hot?

He groaned internally, he hadn’t even properly seen the guy’s face yet and he was already absolutely fucked.

Finally, mercifully, the other boy climbed into bed, yawning as he pulled the quilt up over his head, turning to face the other way.

And it was to the sound of this intriguing stranger’s breath that Steve finally drifted away into a fitful sleep.

Steve's Summer Mix Eddie's Summer Mix

Thanks as always to the lovely @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

Fic taglist (open):

#steddie fanfic #summer camp fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #stranger things fanfiction #steve x eddie #summer romance #strangers to lovers #british eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #eventual background buckingham

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tavyliasin · 10 months ago

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Villain-Fucker Angst Hours

Good timezone, darlings~ Are you ready to get all up in your feelings? No? Me neither, loves, but here we are regardless so the words are going to flow as they usually do... This is focused on Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 and his fandom, but the latter section can easily apply to any villain fandom.

Self-Analysis of Devil-Fuckery, Or Why Do I Adore Raphael When He Is Very Obviously Evil: A Short Essay by TavyliaSin (Who Still Cannot Name Anything With Less Than A Full Paragraph) ((NSFW)) (((Game Spoilers)))

The following may discuss heavier topics, but without specifics, so whilst it should be safe for most to read without triggering any difficult memories please be aware of Raphael's entire vibes, the content and context of his story, and I'd also like to mention that this isn't a "woe be us for we are terrible people" piece, it's actually more about:

"There is an inherent kindness and warmth to much of the Raphael fandom, and I think there could be some common threads behind that, pulling us all in closer in a comforting blanket that we wrap around each other to keep out the cold of the world."

So, what in the nine hells am I on about? Well. Raphael-fandom is a wild and wonderful place to be. The rest is in sections, so feel free to skip through to what you feel is relevant to your interests. I am so prone to waffle I should open a restaurant~

Who Are Fans Of Raphael? What Do They Want?

We are feral, unhinged, all sheets to the wind "I want that devil man, carnally, and there is no force in all the planes that could stop me". There's the vanilla to the extreme and every level in between, tops, bottoms, versatiles, Doms, subs, and switches - there are a whole lot of people who would love to get their hands on either (or both) of Raphael's forms, for a simple smooch or something far more spicy~ [edited in] To add on to this, not all of us even desire him in a sexual way, for many it is romantic, soft, or even just the rather pleasant thought of spending an evening with drinks by the hellfire because he would be fascinating company. Aces, Aros, and AroAces may all find themselves well within the devilish corners of fandom too~ which is a whole other essay~ [end edit] So, I see you. I'm one of you. Extremely loud and utterly hingeless in my fan appreciation for Raphael. He's one of my favourites to write about, I seek art of him, and the same goes for his mirrored other half, Haarlep, who I arguably love more despite there being far less content of them in the game.

And the Fandom? The Vibe?

From my experience in the Raphael Fandom areas, we have a very deep and abiding understanding of consent, respect, and treating each other with an absolute and uncompromising kindness. We've had talks about keeping each other safe in fandom, exchanged details of people we have encountered who need to be avoided, even shared details between moderators of different fandom servers to pre-ban people proven to be creeps and/or art thieves. We've also discussed consent, including the issues with it in the game, and how areas of the story can only really be considered dubious at best and could easily be triggering for people. And these discussions have been open, honest, fair, and with the acknowledgement that most of us love these scenes anyway. So there's a sense of care that runs through everything, behind the horny-posting and fan content, behind the endless thirsting after our favourite fictional characters. We have a depth of kindness that warms my sinners soul every time I see it.

What Does This Have To Do With Self-Reflection, Raphael, or Villainy In General?

Well let's look at Raphael. He's a villain, obviously. He's manipulative, devious, and inherently evil by his very nature. He keeps Hope chained in his basement, constantly subjected to endless torture. There's also mention of how Gortash was sold into his service at a young age, clearly not an enjoyable experience given the other details and how things turn out (particularly as Raphael would need Gortash's own plans to fail entirely in order for him to succeed in his own and get that crown). And as fans, we accept that. We don't sit making excuses, or trying to say "well actually Gortash is a little shit and Hope probably deserve it", and we don't shy away from or conveniently ignore those darker sides of him with malicious intent to enable more evil to flourish. What I noticed, when I allowed the thoughts to continue, is that there is a theme here.

If Evil Can Be Loved Then So Can I

That's the core. Of course, darlings, I am not claiming to be a heinous monster. I certainly do not have a laundry list of crimes that would make the devil himself say "Uh, that's a bit much." But I sure as fuck treat myself like I do sometimes. You see, I think a lot of us have that tendency, to judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. Our patience, understanding, and forgiveness for others runs deeper than the Mariana Trench, but when it comes to our own flaws? One minor mistake and we think ourselves to be the worst beings ever to disgrace the earth. Thus, the villainy we see reflects how we are treating ourselves. So by loving and accepting all of those things that should be terrible, hated, we are actually learning that no matter how poorly we think of ourselves that we can be worthy of that same love and acceptance. We are extending the affection we are unable to show ourselves to someone we see the worst parts of ourselves amplified within. And that's why villains attract the people with the most kindness. The most forgiveness. Because it takes someone with a truly huge amount of empathy to find love for the embodiment of evil.

Or, IDK, maybe villains are just hot and we're too far down to care.

But wait, before you go!

THERE'S SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT.

All of this is about FICTION. We should never be accepting of the kinds of evil we see in the game irl. We do not owe anyone kindness if they do not show it to us.

What is hot in fiction is not always OK IRL.

Look after yourselves out there, remember that consent is key in all things, and please do try to learn to love yourselves, darlings, you are worthy of it and you should judge yourself by the same standard you judge others. If you are in doubt, if you are worried, if you feel afraid - reach out, talk to someone. There are many who will listen.

Treat yourself as you would treat a friend. You deserve that much.

Oh, and all Raphael fans who understand kindness are welcome around me, any hour of the day, I adore our little fandom circles and would gladly collect all of us together. I'm following a lot of you as soon as I find you, like hunting shiny pokemon~

See you in Avernus, my darling Little Mice, may we all find joy in the Cambion's Embrace~

#baldurs gate 3 #raphael #bg3 raphael #villain fucker #personal reflection #analysis of the inner mind by a complete amateur #listen the thoughts get loud then I write them down darlings it happens all the time #love yourself please #you are worth more than you give yourself credit for #and keep loving those villains! it's good for you!#be kind to yourself #and be kind in the community #did this even make sense? well it's there now so tough #DMS are open for fellow fans with excellent taste~

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zaenaris · 10 months ago

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Anime-only adaptations I really enjoyed

I really loved how the anime staff pour their love in the flashback and in the parts where the characters are described the most (bc, in the end, TR is a story driven by characters, not plot), so yeah, kudos for the kokonui, kakuiza and Kisaki centric parts that were not in thee manga and that were added as a ponderate choice by the anime team.

In chronological order

When Takemichi calls him with his nickname "Kaku-chan", Kakucho hesitates before killing him, while in the manga (ch.134) when Izana orders him to kill Takemichi, he just does it with no mercy. The result is the same, but in the anime we saw Kakucho's struggle

The parts about Koko and Inupi, their past and their fight (2x21 or ep.8 of the 2nd coure of S2). It is a very emotional and crude part also in the manga, but in the anime, thanks to some changes/adaptations/voice acting and music, manages to be even more emotional and impactful, while remaining faithful to the manga. That's how an adaptation should be done

First of all, the kiss

while, story-wise, it's clear the kiss is not fanservice, but an important moment to understand their past and their complicated relationship, no one can deny the anime kiss looks even more passionate than the manga version

Among the people that approached Koko in the manga for money reasons, only Izana and Taiju were mentioned (ch.159), meanwhile in the manga, besides them, were added also Madarame Shion - an anime only addition-

and the Haitani Brothers, as a nod to Wakui's birthday art for Koko

I already talked about it here and partially here but, in short, I like how the anime underlines even better that Koko considers himself unredeemable and incapable of detach his own identity to make money illegally

and honestly, peak adaptation: the transition to younger Koko to Tenjiku!Koko saying the same line, to make us understand that Koko still feels incredibly guilty about the past...

... and the fact both Inupi and Koko cry in this scene, a moment that there wasn't in the manga and that was an incredibly beautiful and touching addition

but while manga!Koko -ch.159- at this point is just resigned and "colder" in his decision to stay with Tenjiku, just like also manga!Inupi already calmed down, anime!Inupi is both fed up with the situation but willing to makes things right and very determined..

while anime!Koko is destroyed, he doesn't even stand up when Inupi punches him (I already talked about it here)

the little addition of Kakucho in the flashback when Shinichiro goes to say hi to Izana to take him out with him. Izana's favourite people "interacting" was nice (too bad the animation quality was a little meh in this episode, but I understand we can't have peak quality all the time)

Kakucho with Izana when he finds again Karen by chance and she tells his she's not his biological mother and he's not related to any of the Sano. It the manga Izana was alone, adding Kakucho was nice because the situation is still terrible, Izana sees his whole world collapsing on himself, but at least he has Kakucho

last one, Kisaki's "I wanted to be like you" that humanizes him a little. In the manga his death was quick and brutal. We can understands, reading the manga, he had this superiority/inferiority complex towards Takemichi, but the anime explains it more clearly (I talked a bit about it here )

Maybe there's something else that was an anime-only adaptation that made sense, even improved the already existent narration, but I probably don't remember it. These are the ones that imho, are the most important both for the characters and the narration.

I love how Liden Film followed faithfully the story but added "more heart" to it, that's what a good adaptation should do

#tokyo revengers #kisaki tetta #kokonoi hajime #inui seishu #izana kurokawa #kakucho hitto #kakuiza #kokonui #inukoko #sano shinichiro #zae talks about tr #anime manga comparison #zaenaris #haitani brothers #haitani rindou #haitani ran #hanagaki takemichi

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berrykis · 4 months ago

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Acesabo AU of them being cute secret boyfriends during high school, because well, homophobia and sometimes you have a reputation at school you don’t want people to also get into your business. President student council (year 3 both ace and Sabo) Sabo, and Famous gang member Ace from the WB gang.

Although Ace is in a gang especially WB he still has a pretty good reputation at school and famous for his charms and good looks. Total hottie for sure.

Then there’s sabo, a nickname they call him but sabo finds ridiculous is “Prince sabo” for being a handsome blonde with obvious good grades and being graceful at what he does.

Both Ace and Sabo are good students, and a good duo! You’ll always catch them together when it’s break time or lunch time.

Some girls even ship them, draw cute unrealistic versions drawings of them kissing.. or what they call “yaoi” pretty popular thing nowadays in art and stuff.

One thing nobody knows of is that they both have a little brother at home they take care of.

Everytime they’ll walk home together, they make sure to stop by a convenience to buy snacks and some extra meat to cook dinner but also to cook up for their gluten brother Luffy. 🩷 who for some reason is a big meat lover!! He’s only 4 years old but he’s so energetic and has a meat shaped plushie sabo got for him on his 4th bday!

Both Ace and Sabo dote on baby luffy so much, they’ll leave school without hesitation if it meant Luffy needed one of them (or both)

Like the time like this,

The day Makino was supposed to take care of sick baby Luffy started with a sense of calm, knowing she was there to handle everything. However, it quickly turned into one of the worst days Ace and Sabo had ever experienced.

Both received urgent calls during their meetings, and the last thing Koala and Marco saw was Ace and Sabo rushing out the door. They sprinted across campus until they met each other outside, then hurried to the hospital where baby Luffy was being treated for a severe high fever that miss makino couldn’t handle with wet cold towels ontop of luffys forehead instead he needed to be taken to the hospital especially at his little age..

Ace and Sabo almost collided with the front desk when they arrived, running at full speed. Desperately, they asked which room Luffy was in. Once they got the room number, they continued to rush through the hallways.

When they finally reached the room, they paused in front of the door, panting heavily. Nervous and trying not to intrude, they slowly opened the door. The tension in the air was palpable as they prepared themselves to see their little brother in such a worrisome situation. Their little brother, their sunshine falling in a terrible high fever in the hospital is the worst things they’ll pray never happens again. That’s their baby!

As they opened the door, they were greeted by the sight of baby Luffy lying on the hospital bed, naked with patches on his chest. Despite his condition, Luffy was cheerfully playing with his Tony Tony Chopper plushie, his little hands clutching the toy tightly. Makino was seated next to the bed, her face a mixture of concern and tenderness as she played with him, trying to keep his spirits high.

When she noticed Ace and Sabo at the door, she looked up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and. She sent them a warm smile, silently conveying her concern and the slight reassurance that Luffy was in good hands. Ace and Sabo felt a wave of emotions wash over them as they took in the scene, their hearts aching for their little brother but also grateful for Makino's comforting presence.

Ace took a step forward and softly said, "Hey Luffy... hey baby." Luffy looked up from his plushie, his eyes widening as he recognized his brothers. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he started to softly cry, his voice trembling as he blurted out, "Eshu..! Swabo!~" The sound of his tiny voice calling out their names tugged at their hearts, and they quickly moved closer to comfort him, their presence bringing a sense of warmth and security to the room.

Ace and Sabo couldn't hold back their own tears as they saw Luffy's distress. They leaned over the bed, wrapping their arms around him in a gentle hug, their faces close to his. They kissed his cute little face, whispering comforting things to soothe him. "It's okay, Luffy. We're here now," Ace murmured softly. "We won't leave you, little brother," Sabo added, his voice full of love and reassurance. Their tender words and warm embrace slowly calmed Luffy, his cries turning into soft sniffles as he felt the love and protection of his brothers.

When the atmosphere calmed down now that they were both there, Luffy's mood changed and he perked up, proudly saying he didn't cry when the doctor gave him shots. Ace and Sabo raised their eyebrows in an amused yet gentle way. They turned to Makino, who was listening with a warm smile, nodding and chuckling at Luffy's proud expression.

---

Ace ruffled Luffy's hair and laughed, calling him a brave boy. "That's our Luffy, always so tough," he said with a grin. Luffy beamed at the praise, feeling even more proud with his brothers by his side.

Even though school was on both Ace and Sabo's ass, they still managed to leave early to head to the convenience store to buy Luffy meat snacks before going to the hospital. When asked where they were going, they would reply with a serious face, "To my baby brother at the hospital, he needs me.”

Cute. The two infamous duo ace and Sabo seem to be protective brothers outside of school, both leaving school to check on their baby brother Luffy at the hospital. Luffy still needed to rest for a few days before being discharged, and they'd go to the hospital praising him in bed and pampering him with meat and little things like a sun sticker on his forehead for being a brave boy for taking his shots so bravely without crying. Ace and Sabo made sure Luffy felt loved and proud, turning his hospital stay into a fun and memorable experience.

—-

When Luffy was finally discharged, Ace and Sabo got a lot more overprotective of his well-being, making sure he was okay and not sick. Soon, they decided to take Luffy to their school because Makino was busy and couldn’t take care of him while they were at school. When they came to school with Luffy in Sabo's arms sleeping, he was quickly praised for being such a good older brother, showing a gentle and soft side of them both. Koala turned her attention to Luffy, who was sitting on Ace's lap while eating lunch with him, and asked, "Hey Loof, what do you think Ace and Sabo are to you?"

Sabo who was sipping on his strawberry milk perked up at that and rested a hand on his cheek while saying “we’re his brothers of course, what else?”

Then ace who was busy cleaning up luffys mouth with a napkin after he had taken a big bite of pork cutlet, nodded and hummed.

Luffy thought about it for a few seconds , his wide round eyes sparkling with innocence. "They’re my big brothers... but they’re like my parents too! Shishishi!" he said with a cheerful giggle, making everyone around him smile at his adorable honesty.

Ace and Sabo couldn't believe what they heard and saw. Sabo choked on his strawberry milk, splashing Koala's face accidentally. Koala pinched his cheek upset, from her short temper, before releasing him and turning their attention to Luffy, curious about his sweet and innocent words. It was a cute and chaotic moment that made everyone burst into snicker and laugh here and there, thatch hits aces elbow while chuckling “so called “big brother” turns out to be his secret daddy all along huh?”

Ace and Sabo are blushing deep and as Luffy tries to say something else ace shoves another piece of pork into his mouth so he can shut up for now. Too stuffed with meat before embarrassing them both more.

Ahhhhh I’m lazy to continue

#portgas d. ace #saboace #acesabo #asl brothers #words #writing #cute story #monkey d. luffy #modern setting #drabble #asl trio #baby luffy #sabo #sabo x ace #ace x sabo

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lynn-tged-posting · 1 month ago

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tged webtoon ep 161 spoilers with thoughts below the cut u know the drill

THIS IS MY FAVORITE PANEL OF JAVIER EVER. IN THE ENTIRE MANHWA IM LOSING MY MIND HAHAHAHAHAHA

HE JUST LOOKS SO FUCKING UNHINGED I DIDNT EXPECT IT AT ALL HHAHAHAHAHAAAA

anywayy back to the top

honestly maybe i shouldve seen the fact that his own singing would fuck him up coming LMAO

their matching dazed expressions when they both realize PLEASSEE LOL

raphael also calls the start of his singing demonic sounding lmao

and then they start fighting again and JESUS holy shit they're so overpowered this is so cool to watch and also as i was reading i was VERY scared for javier

genuinely i really really love whenever they draw action scenes they look very cool while also not being terribly hard to follow i like that

like oh my god?? he's swinging that hammer around like its nothing its very very terrifying, esp cause its been a while since javier has fought something thats his match yknow, or at least it feels that way

AND THEN. THE LEADUP INTO THE NEXT SCENE IM LOSING MY MIND JAVIER YOU SCHEMER

the feigning being down and then the peek and the slow getting up im giggling so so bad AND THEN

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA JAVIER YOU CLEVER ASSHOLE I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH

like i knew that line raphael said about how the halo would continue protecting him so long as he's pure and just or whatever would come into play BUT I DIDNT THINK JAVIER WOULD BE THE ONE TO DO IT SO DIRECTLY TOO HAHAHAHAAA he's learned so much from lloyd <3 LOL

i also think its interesting that the halo keeps track of this with like points or smth, not much to say about it i just think its an interesting gear; the ultimate defensive tech but it's based on how "good" you are thats just really interesting to me hehe

ALSO ALSO i think it's really really silly funny that raphael was this very intimidating and menacing figure that was super scary right up until the moment javier played dirty and then the moment that happened that image/vibe immediately crumbled WAHHAHA he's just a silly guy and the halo does the work i like him a lot

i really like these panels of them being evenly matched, raphael is still holding his own even with a penalty like that, their expressions here are really good too its so tense,,,

AND THEN LLOYD BEGGING THEM TO STOPP AAHHH

AGHHGHGHHGHGH AAAHH JAVIER STARING WIDE-EYED AT LLOYD IM CURLING AND SHRIVELED ON THE FLOOR

like okay i know lloyd is scheming or whatever. but my heart wants to believe that some part of this was very real okay . let me cope let me believe this . one cannot act/lie effectively without some of it being real. RIGHT???

AND THEN WHEN THE POPUPS APPEARED I STARTED SHOUTING OH MY GOD I FORGOT ABT THE RP SYSTEM IM SO. LLOYD YOU BRILLIANT MOTHERFUCKER YOUUU

HE CAN JUST SKIP THE PROCESS AND THEN BECOME A SWORDMASTER HE HASNT DONE THAT IN A LONG TIME OHHHH MY GOD

also. everyone else's bonus RP was +10. but only javier's bonus RP was +45. which could mean nothing.

WHAT DO I EVEN SAY ABOUT THAT LIKE. JAVIER WHAT YOU. WHAT. YOUUU im gonna lose it im gonna LOSE IT

top ten photos taken moments before disaster HE LOOKS SO EVIL THE ART HERE IS SO GOOD HAHAHAHA OHH MY GOD

and how he says "YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS" ohhh lloyd you asshole you i love you so much

THIS PANEL TOO LIKE WOW THE FUCKING EFFECTS THIS IS INSANE HE LOOKS SO FUCKING MENACING THE VIOLENT LINEART HES POWERING UP HIS SINGING OH MY GODDD HAHAHA

when i saw these panels i immediately thought of that one song from princess and the frog god i wish i could like tween or something itd be so cool to see This drawn to That

thats all i LOVED this ep i had so much fun RAPHAEL JAVIER LLOYD FIGHT PART THREE NEXT WEEK HERE WE GO

#tged #the greatest estate developer #tged spoilers #lloyd frontera #raphael #javier asrahan #apologies if u saw these thoughts already on twitter #i jump the gun a lot . as you may be able to tell #im much more disorganized and full of caps lock on twitter though so pick your poison i guess HAHA #i mean. not that my tumblr is free of caps lock either. uh.#no seriously genuinely i long to see this animated this is so so so fucking cool #animation with this art style would go CRAZY HARD ID LOVE IT #i love the art so so so so much its so extreme its so extra im spinning around

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izu · 5 months ago

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hey just wanna say that i LOVE your art!!! i’ve seen you on twitter and ugh just can’t get enough of it! also do you happen to have some johnshi headcannons?? cuz if you do i would like to see them all!! :3

thank you so much!!! i hope to draw more.... also get ready bc i have way too many headcanons and this'll probably be super long winded unfortunately . this isn't all of it but its most of it

- kenshi is a heavy sleeper. after moving in with johnny post-tournament he begins to unwind from his former unhealthy schedule that was supported by his yakuza lifestyle. johnny wakes up at 5 am to work out until lunch, and kenshi sleeps in til like noon or 1. johnny thinks its cute

- they either own a fuck ton of cats or ferrets. johnny seems like a ferret guy to me

- they like watching director's cuts of movies instead of actual movies because kenshi can actually understand a little more of whats happening while the directors explain certain scenes and go into depth about the composition and art direction. its a win win situation for both of them

- johnny actually reads a ton of books, but is embarrassed about it. leftovers from being a ""nerd"" in high school. kenshi thinks its adorable and he likes hearing johnny retell the book plot and express his exasperation with it unfolding as he reads

- johnny has a sweet tooth and kenshi has a more refined palette, he will try anything johnny sets in front of him though, even if he isnt much of a sweets guy

- on that same note, johnny is very good at cooking! every other night he plans a meal for them, and it's almost always a winner. lots of japanese style dishes (took some trial and error on johnny's part) because he wants to impress kenshi

- they go to red carpet events together after a couple of years of dating, but for a while they pretended (to the press, too) that kenshi was his newest bodyguard. rumors spread fast though and it ended up being a perfect time to let johnny come out publicly as bi

- kenshi's parents are actually very very supportive. i think he'd be nervous at first but his mom thinks johnny is very handsome and his father agrees its a good change for their family. kenshi has two sisters who absolutely raise hell over kenshi nabbing a sexy gaijin star and he is very embarrassed about it. much to johnny's delight

- they spend every weekend on the balcony of johnny's new loft in his jacuzzi just talking and being sappy. kenshi genuinely gets a lil upset when things come up and they miss their date nights

- everytime kenshi returns to the states after visiting home johnny makes a big scene at the airport. lunging at him, crying sobbing

- kenshi proposes first, but johnny had been nervously trying to wait for a good time to do it himself. one upped. he is still very upset about this well into their marriage as old yaois

- kenshi is the top 👍 i think we all knew this but still

- even if he doesn't need it, its sort of a ritual between them so they never stopped; johnny is still kenshi's sight dog when they go out and he doesn't feel like relying on sento.

- sento's ancestors like johnny a lot and kept being annoying about kenshi needing to get hitched already hskw7kejej

- kenshi is achillean, gay. always has been. his arrangement with suchin was. arranged. and she was his lesbian beard for a while. the two are very very close and she visits their home often. johnny is trans and bisexual, but he's only out about being bi.

- johnny tends to have a really shitty sleep cycle, light sleeper, easily thrown into insomnia, the busy street life can really fuck up his routine when hes already had a terrible day. which ends up with the both of them on the couch, talking, watching a show, kenshi with his head on johnny's shoulder. they fall asleep like that 7 times outta 10

- the older they get the sappier and grosser they get . everyone who knows them hates their gay asses . jax and sonya included

- also they both get dad bods when they get older bc of all the good eating. neither are insecure about it. its hot

- kenshi is undeniably the spoiled one. gifts, fancy dinner dates, unrelenting affection and praise. he starts believing he deserves good things, that he is loved, solely by johnny's persistence with showing him instead of telling him

- cris ends up being their friend again after a while. i just dont like the cris villainization when its contrasted with johnshi support. she had her reasons to be upset at her alcoholic, spending-addicted husband, y'all

- johnny like action/sci fi movies. kenshi likes romcoms.

- they host parties. they're awesome parties.

#answered #anonymous #asks #johnshi #kencage #there's definitely more i will add as i go i guess

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labyrinthofsphinx · 6 months ago

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Behold, terrible people and the muffin they stole!

A scene from my drabble below. Wanted to do something special so a bit of art to go with. As always, let me know your thoughts, guys!

Statistical Outliers

“So, I’m your man, huh?”

“You know, it’s a fucking shame you just got that new head of yours because if you say that one more fucking time, I will bash it in again.”

The day hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but he won’t complain about the ending, at least. After calming both Valentino and Velvette down, enough that a manhunt for the imagined Alastor shadow wasn’t going to sound off anytime soon, he had to compensate them for…well, their time, he’d suppose. He didn’t expect that kind of reaction, the reactionary viciousness. Which also meant compensation had to be just as well.

Vel was easy to fix. He just gave her his credit card. Go nuts with it.

Val was harder to please, but less painful to his wallet. He still took him out, rented out the whole nightclub for just him and his groupies. They drank like fish and spent a terribly long time in the club’s backrooms. Val, still reeling from the damage Vox did to him just the night before, was absolutely ravaged by days end.

Not that the day ended when they got back, mind you. Hence the teasing.

“No need to be so hostile, Val. I’m just saying-”

“Yeah? Well, now you need to shut up.”

He was on the lounge, trying to pretend like he wasn’t showing off his legs again. As if they weren’t already covered top to bottom in marks, bites, and scratches. He stretched out, arms gliding along his hips, toying with the belt of yet another bathrobe that Vox will need to replace. The man was insatiable, he’ll give him that.

“Hmm.” He brought his head forward, right next to Val’s antenna. They were sensitive, much more than you’d expect. The slight vibrations of a voice sent them twitching. The static from a TV had them spiraling. Vox teased a breath by them. “Sure, Val. Whatever you want, today.”

He didn’t really want him to shut up. It was one of his favorite things about Vox, he’s pretty sure. Valentino was a man of ego, and he loved nothing more than having it stroked in every possible, conceivable way. He’s never said as much, but he’s pretty sure that’s why he always petitions him in the monitor room. There’s just something appealing to the man about having eyes watch them from everywhere, of hearing praise from everywhere. Especially if it was Vox’s.

He shivered when Vox ever so gently ran his fingers through with his antenna. Had he not been spent from before, Vox’s is pretty sure Val would’ve leapt up and dragged Vox to the floor with him.

“What I want would involve enough screaming to wake the damn ring.” He huffed.

“Oh, you want to scream now?” Vox teased. “I can help with that.”

“Vox, you talk too much.” He said, as if he wasn’t vibrating from the idea.

“That’s what they tell me.” He joked, pulling away enough to make Valentino miss his presence by his side.

It was always like this, this tugging and pulling. Some days, Val would want nothing more than Vox. Other days, well, Vox loses his face. One could never quite tell where the dice were going to land, but he’d be a liar to say that there wasn’t something he loved about it, in a sick sense of the word. Sure, he never wanted to get his head rearranged, but Val being in a violent mood could be fun, has been fun in the past.

It was just a whole lot less fun when he ended up with the target on his head. Honestly, he can’t even remember when that started to happen, only that he just had to account for it in the schedule and budget.

But at least it was still Vox. His anger and desire was still centered on Vox.

Until Angel Dust happened.

Cut it out, Vox. Don’t think of him right now. That line of thinking never goes anywhere good. Besides, he was still on camera! Can’t be frowning in the middle of the scene, now can we?

His hands quickly wrapped around Val’s sides. Before he had time to react, he’d already pulled him up in his arms. Val’s legs hitched at Vox’s waist, and his arms tugged across his shoulders and face.

That was another thing Val loved, being manhandled. Being eleven feet tall apparently gives people the wrong impression, but Vox knew better. Val was a moth, a fuzzy casing of exoskeleton covering nothing but softness underneath. He seemed strong because he was big, and because some of that frame gave him power to work with. But it was nothing compared to the complex dance of flesh, bone, and machinery. He’s not as tall, obviously, but there was a reason Val always chose to aim for his face or the delicate parts still left on his skin. If he bit too far, or aimed just a little wrong, Val could accidentally end up damn near breaking his own hand.

Machines didn’t have the same rules for bodies that living things do. Both were complicated and everything inside served a function for higher operations, but machines were made to carry out everything at a hundred percent of their ability. They do what they’re programed to, nothing more and nothing less. Organic machinery was built for the opposite, the gradients and the fine tuning. One was determination made from metal and iron, and the other was calculation on the scale of nerves and cells. And Vox was a mismatched mess stuck between the two.

That meant that when he did decide to pull, there was little Val could do but ride out the wave. Not that this wasn’t already what he had in mind, given his poison nearly dripping onto Vox’s face.

“Oh, I should’ve just gone to that shitty hotel and brought you back Alastor’s head.” Val purred. “I can’t imagine what you’d do then.”

While in theory that was incredibly hot, Vox wasn’t going to be giving him any ideas. Especially since this is Val, and he might think his stupid theory is a good idea later.

“Don’t tell me your thinking of leaving now?” Vox’s voice added a bit of television fading, just as he brought a finger to tease the length of Val’s spine.

“Oh, not on your life.”

“Good.”

One last steamy session on the longue later and a cleanup in the bath that also might’ve gotten a little steamy, and Vox had them both tucked into his bed. He never smoked Val’s cigarettes, even after they were done. Sure, it might not have the same effect on him as it does others, screen head and all that, but something in the chemicals brings his thoughts around to the worst. Maybe Val smoked too much before making out, because Vox’s head was dragging him around even without the visible smoke.

Alastor wasn’t just a Vox problem. Val probably knew that better than Vel, but she’s been around long enough to know. If the king falls, the game is over, isn’t it? Is that the only reason they came charging in today? Maybe. And why would he expect something else? He shouldn’t.

Every machine had a use, a function. Vox keeps the train moving. Vox keeps the Vees at the top. Vox keeps all of Hell focused on them, loving them.

But to his fellow Vees? Vox solves problems. That’s his function.

He admits there’s attachment there but, well, let’s just say he’s never under the assumption that the attachment wasn’t built from necessity. Like a certain radio freak mentioned once, keep only the necessities, everything else is a potential liability.

But then there’s days like today. When something bad almost happened, or he thought it would, and he was a little surprised they showed up. I mean, obviously they would. As he said, he was required for things to work. The body didn’t function without a brain.

That didn’t stop his replay on Val’s and Vel’s words, ‘my man’ and ‘my boys’ respectively. He liked the sound of that.

Then, of course, there was the kid. He literally clawed his way up most of the levels of Vee tower to make sure he was alive. Not to mention that this is literally like the second time he’s promised to maim the kid and he still insists that they’re friends. If it wasn’t for the fact that he tested what the kid said about his suggestions not working before Vel took him to the spa, Vox would be questioning if he accidentally hypnotized the kid into liking him. Because none of that is normal. Then again, who the hell is normal down here?

The more he thinks on it, what was the kid’s plan? What if Alastor had been in the room? What if they were fighting? What if Vox was losing? Not that he would, because he wouldn’t be, but hypothetically. What would he do then?

He wasn’t good in a fight, that much was clear. He didn’t have powers, and certainly nothing that would stand up eldritch shadow demons…

Wait, did he just assume the kid would be on his side? Why did his calcs jump to that?

Feedback on his systems told him exactly why, playing back footage from the past several days. Simply, because Vox was his friend, and it was obvious now that there was little he wouldn’t do for his friends.

Oh, fucking damn it. The kid latched on like tumor to the brain.

He liked that kid, selfishly and stupidly attached to him.

He was trying hard not to smile, but it’s difficult to force a face without muscles to do much of anything, especially when his program literally pours his thoughts into expression. And it was hard to be in a bad mood right now.

‘My man’. ‘My boys’. ‘My friend’.

“Voxxy, your screen is pink.”

“Shut up, Val.”

“Oh, it’s practically maroon now.”

“Shut the fuck up, Val!”

Like adding gasoline to flame, the bedroom door was flung open. Distracted as he’d been, he failed to notice that Vel had come back from the spa and already jumped into pajamas. She kicked open the door, and waltzed in like she owned the place. In her arms, the kid dangled like a stuffed animal fresh out the dryer.

“I’m assuming since you guys are talking in full sentences that you’re done now?” Vel said. For once, her phone was tucked away, probably in a pocket in her lounge shorts.

“‘Till the morning, I suppose. It’s the best way to start mornings.” Val answered for them, a finger teasing the side of Vox’s head.

The kid’s expression was blank, like he was staring into a void. He was clean at least.

“What happened to you?” Vox asked.

“We went to the spa.” Mimicking Val, Velvette answered for the two of them. “I got everything done, including a two hour massage. The masseur was some centipede guy, thousand arms and all. You really need steal that guy, Vee. My back feels great.”

He kept looking at the kid, waiting for his answer. When he finally decided that he could answer with the other two around, he spoke like he was experiencing a flashback to a war.

“I now know what it’s like to be play-doh.”

Despite himself, Vox tossed his head back, rolling.

“Anyways,” Vel readjusted the kid in her arms and started walking over to the bed. “you two are dressed, yeah? Because this is an invasion.”

Well, Val was as dressed as Val ever is, kept decent just barely by the length of Vox’s robes. He really needed to start ordering them five sizes too tall at this point. As for himself, he had the decency to swap into regular pajamas…just in case he and kid couldn’t sleep and wanted to give Asteroids another go.

Not that Velvette waited for an answer. The bed was big, obviously. It had to be to hold Val. Save for when he unfolds his wings, the bed could hold an ungodly amount of people. Honestly, it was just cheaper to buy two of the same size bed when he was ordering Val’s. That’s the only reason it was so stupidly big. Vox didn’t share the bed often enough to warrant it, unlike Val.

Velvette climbed over him, landing just beneath his right arm and tucking herself against his chest. In doing so, she pulled off the blanket. Probably a smart decision because of how hot Vox was to sleep against. He was unofficially Velvette’s favorite that-time-of-the-month pillow. Val, to his left, just wrapped his arms around Vox’s legs and his left arm, as per always.

The kid was crushed in the space between Vel’s body and his own. With all that fur, he could imagine it was going to get very hot, very quickly there. Using the one arm that hadn’t been abducted yet, he punched the pillow beside his head. Then, he snuck down, plucked the kid up, and put him on it.

He was rewarded by an honest smile. In hell, that was a pretty rare gift.

Then, the little body wrapped around that arm, a big fluffy tail curling down and tickling his sides. Holy shit, he was small. The kid was curled almost entirely into the palm of his hand.

Before he even knew it, he was surrounded. Trapped, you might even say, by a tangled mess of bodies all fighting for a bit of his body heat.

Oh, there were worse ways to end the evening. Barring something amazing happening, like Alastor keeling over dead or Lucifer handing over his crown, this might just be as good as it gets.

You know, fuck that heaven bullshit. This was heaven.

“’Night, Vee.” Velvette mumbled, half asleep.

“Night, guys.”

He didn’t get to sleep right away. He stayed awake long enough to hear the little noises, an offkey song of sleep. Val squeaked in his sleep, randomly. His wings would flutter together sometimes, but the fuzz on the scales kept it from sounding much more than the sound of skin touching skin. Vel talks in her sleep, sort of. She mumbles more than anything. It was never enough to make a sentence out of, in fact it sounded a bit like baby babble. Occasionally, her phone would ping, but he was so used to the sound now that it was basically a backtrack to his day.

The kid was the newest sound. He knew now that foxes could, apparently, squeak. But, as Vox was sitting there and gingerly gliding his fingers through freshly cleaned fur, he heard a different sound.

They purr? Why do they purr?

Unconsciously, the kid snuggled his face into Vox’s hand, the ridiculously soft coat almost swallowing up his digits.

Oh, this was all too cute. This was all too fucking much for today. Cuteness aggression hit him like a truck again, and it was a struggle against every instinct in his body not to move, for fear of ruining it all by waking one of them up.

Then, he caught on something.

The collar that Velvette had put on the kid on day one was snug tight against his throat. Drowned out by his fur, Vox had almost forgotten about it. It felt so odd, out of place. The cold metal stuck flat to his skin, with only the little charm hanging a little more comfortably away.

He tugged a little, just enough to see it better.

The bright blue ‘V’ looked almost neon in the dark, surrounded by that deep red heart. It really did look like a dog collar like this, didn’t it?

Dehumanizing something was easy here. No one even looked human anymore. Very few acted human even when they were alive.

A few days ago, he didn’t give it a second thought. He couldn’t have cared less. Now though?

Carefully, he undid the little magnetic hook in the back. Unlike a normal collar, this one was designed to never come off, not unless one of the three of them did it. The key was a simple, a contrary magnetic pull that would activate the lock, but too strong or too weak of a pull would just break it and cause it to get stuck. Vel probably had the actual key in her room, but it didn’t take much of Vox’s power to undo a little magnetic flux.

He twirled it around the kid’s wrist instead, like a bracelet, not unlike the ones Velvette always wears anyways. As the clasp closed, his little paw wrapped around his palm, bringing it back up to his face and cradling it like a pillow.

“Night, Drift.” Vox said, before letting the night and its new symphony drag him off someplace nice.

That might’ve been the best sleep of his life.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11

#hazbin hotel #art #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel art #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel the vees #the vees #staticmoth #voxval #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fic #drabble #They are terrible people #But they are very fun to write and draw

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canmom · 11 days ago

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the adventure of canmom at weird weekend (part 1)

is this 'adventure of' joke getting old? like I've already done the 'translate into scots gaelic' variant. it's not exactly an adventure if it's a half hour bike ride is it? ah fuckit

This weekend was the Weird Weekend film festival in Glasgow! it's the tiny kind of film festival with one screen and folding chairs - they did get their hands on a real beast of a projector mind you...

Look at that concentrated beam of pure film. Kind of awesome to actually see a lightfield intense enough to scatter off random bits of dust in the air honestly.

This is apparently the fourth time this festival has run - though as is often the case I'm terribly out of the loop and only heard about it when @birdfriender told me it was on lol. It's also only my third time going to a film festival (the previous times both being Annecy, a very different kind of festival). It was a great time: the organisers have excellent taste and there's a lot of deep cuts, and made some good friends among the attendees.

On Friday night I showed up for the opening evening of interactive film - this included a short film/video essay commissioned for the festival based on of all things the Goncharov meme (seriously...), followed by a brief history of interactive film including the amusingly ill-fated venture of a certain former Microsoft guy called Bob something (I really should have written this down), and then someone called Puke ("everyone’s favourite genderfluid body fluid") came out dressed like this to oversee the actual event...

...and we watched of all things Final Destination 3 with the DVD feature that lets you switch in alternate scenes at various points (mostly death scenes). This was actually a pretty good time since it was my first time seeing a Final Destination film, and there was a good energy in the audience (although it seemed like the film always picked the opposite of what we voted for - not sure if that's a thematic point or programming error lol), but I'm glad the rest of the festival was more obscure stuff.

On Saturday, the festival proper began! I am reminded of a certain line in Exordia, in which the alien Ssrin gives her assessment of humanity, opening with "You’re a species of gangly distance runners, adapted to sweat and throw stuff. You like watching each other fuck." And indeed, there were few films this weekend that did not offer an opportunity to watch someone fuck. That's art for ya babey.

Looking back the clear highlight was Louise Weard's film Castration Movie I: Traps, but more on that anon - let's start at the beginning. I ended up catching all but one of the films over the course of the weekend and there was maybe only one I'd call an outright miss, so great going in all.

On Saturday we opened with a pair of Hungarian films directed by György Révész, about an incredibly up himself intellectual-in-exile named Dr. János Bátky - the self insert of author Antal Szerb. the first film, The Loves of a Dilettante, sees Bátky going through a series of affairs with women around him - in each case abruptly ending the relationship because it doesn't conform to his specific fantasy. The reasons become increasingly absurd: at first Bátky wishes instead that his partner is a certain Countess, but when he chances to meet the lady herself, he refuses to believe she is who she says she is; at last another woman at the library turns out to be the secret admirer who has been sending Bátky gifts in the post, and he cannot stand to be pursued instead of the manipulative pursuer he fancied himself to be, and spurns her as well.

Bátky is very much the butt of the joke in this film, and the ending sees everyone pretty much done with his bullshit; at the same time, he is an entertaining character, with a nonstop patter full of literary allusions, bizarre tangents and dubious observations. Not so charming that I can quite see why all these women are throwing themselves at him, but that's the conceit of the film I suppose! The actor playing him, Iván Darvas does a splendid job of making this sideburned wanker come across as interesting enough to carry a film.

The second Bátky film, The Pendragon Legend was a major tonal departure from the first - and also featured a different cast, despite including a number of the same characters. (Funnily enough Iván Darvas returns, but as a different character.) This time, rather than a study of Bátky's foibles, we have a complicated conspiracy at a stately home in wales, tying in with biological experiments, immortal sorcerors and the Rosicrucians, assassination plots, affairs; the works. It ends up a lot of fun, although the sheer number of characters made it a little hard to keep track of everything. Here, Bátky is pulled in as almost an observer of all the shit going down, and comes across a lot more sympathetic as a result.

All in all, a pretty fascinating pair of films and window into Hungarian cinema. With both these films set in London and Wales but voiced entirely in Hungarian, it seems to present an amusing alternate universe in which Hungary is the language of the UK, but nobody knows where Hungary is. It's a very old-school 'from outside' view of the UK, full of tea-sipping aristocrats and walks in the park and intellectual conversations in a library - it's quite funny to me. I haven't seen a ton of Hungarian film (mostly animation), but everything I've seen has been fascinating, and terribly literary.

vimeo

A whole lot of the films in this festival were restorations of various out of print films, and that includes to the next one, Treasure Island directed by Scott King. This film has absolutely nothing to do with Stephenson's book, instead referring to the island near San Francisco where mail was processed during the second world war.

The basis of the story is the historical Operation Mincemeat, in which the British constructed a false identity for a corpse and planted it to mislead the Nazis; here the story is transplanted to the American invasion of Japan, but the focus is hardly wartime intrigue, instead the psychosexual inner lives of the two Americans who are involved in constructing the fake identity for the corpse. One of them secretly has two wives, one a white civilian woman and the other a Japanese woman who works in translation for the military; the other habitually invites other men for group sex with him and his wife and has a whole lot of hangups about how he is not gay, and that corpse is not at all sexy thank you.

As the film progresses, both of them are increasingly struck by visions of the dead man talking to them and the line between 'reality' and fantasy gets blurrier. It's a very well crafted and engaging film; shot in black and white in 1999, it aimed to challenge the rather sanitised and straightforwardly heroic picture of the 'Greatest Generation' who fought the war, presenting a more 'warts and all' look with the sexuality and racism and so forth in full view. I found it very effective! And it was cool to have the director there, a bearded American guy who spoke very confidently about his intentions for the film - I got to ask a question about how he kept all the fantasy and more literal elements straight while scripting the film.

(Do you find that when you get a Q&A session like this, you really want to ask a good question? Because I do. It's very silly. But like if I am going to hold the mic and get the spotlight on me... sure I don't want to waste peoples' time, but also I kinda want to come off well lmao. If I can get people to go 'ooh that's a good question' I feel like I've won audience Q&A, a real thing that is reasonable to want.)

In the afternoon we got a massive block of trans films old and new. We opened with Scarecrow in a Garden of Cucubers featuring Holly Woodlawn; Jaye Hudson of the TGirlsOnFilm Instagram account (which I was not previously familiar with) gave an introduction, telling the story of how Woodlawn came into the orbit of Warhol's 'Factory', and reading out some funny anecdotes about her experience on set. As Jaye talked about it, at that point in the 70s, trans girls were kind of the flavour of the month and we appeared in a bunch of films at the time, of which this was one.

The film sees a girl called Eve Harrington moving to New York in pursuit of the dream of becoming an actress; there she meets a series of weirdos from taxi-driving nuns to 'Mary Poppins', the drag empress of a kind of roommate finding service who's always trailed by worshipful boys. Most of the film sees Eve trying to find an apartment and a boyfriend, and running into various 70s archetypes along the way: a werewolf (also played by Woodlawn in boy mode), political lesbians, a plant-obsessed hippy, and finally a taciturn amnesiac Russian woman and her brother, a little person in a cowboy outfit who does pro wrestling. It's an intriguing slice of the 70s and of New York in particular.

Apparently this film has long been out of print and only narrowly evaded being lost media, so it's pretty sick to see. (And honestly despite the long cultural shadow they cast, I don't actually know that much about the girls around Warhol's 'Factory', so I was glad to get a look in.)

vimeo

Next up we had 'An Untitled and Perfectly-Legal Coming-of-Age Clown Parody Film' - not hard to figure out what film this is (The People's Joker), especially with the still and trailer right there, but while the courts in the US seem to have come down on recognising it as a valid Fair Use defence, the legal status is still a bit up in the air in the UK.

This one got a lot of buzz for thumbing its nose at Warner Bros.' copyright empire - and of course being part of a recent wave of trans girl directed independent films such as I Saw The TV Glow. It's a trans girl coming of age story built around the Batman milieu, and clearly by people with a pretty thorough knowledge of Batman's cinematic history and DC universe deep cuts (the final act involves a musical number with Mx. Mxyzptlk, played as a puppet, which I'm sure means something if you read the comics).

It's largely shot on greenscreen, with all kinds of mixed media and animation segments - deliberately going for a grungy, chaotic look where it doesn't try to match lighting and animation styles (there's a whole bunch of indepedent animators contributing brief segments here, much as in Barber Westchester). The story concerns Joker the Harlequin, a trans girl who finally moves away from her controlling mother after being drugged with 'Smylex' for most of her life; now in Gotham she can transition, have a dodgy relationship with a trans guy (who is also a version of the Joker, and - spoilers - a former Robin), and build an 'anti-comedy' club with most of the usual Batman villains before going to confront the cultish institution which controls all legal comedy in post-'cyber war' America.

The film's strongest aspect is, fittingly, jokes - throwaway lines about the casually dystopian setting ('drag was outlawed after the explosion at RuPaul's fracking ranch' got a big laugh); a running joke of namedropping cancelled comedians with 'before the unpleasantness, of course' 'of course'; the playful riffs on past Batman films. The core story, though, is a fairly by-the-numbers queer/trans coming of age about self-acceptance, parental mistreatment and finding community, and a bit of a satire on SNL which is perhaps more specific to the director's history - I get the purpose of this kind of narrative and I certainly needed it at a time, and wrote similar stories myself, but it's a kind of story I'm kind of increasingly tired of hearing. I don't mean to say it's bad for that - just it doesn't resonate the way it might have ten years ago.

Honestly, I think trying to make a 'trans movie' kind of paints you into a formulaic corner. A corner very deftly avoided by the next movie, Louise Weard's Castration Movie Part I: Traps. This was the theatrical debut of this movie, though it's been available to download on Weard's gumroad for some time.

vimeo

Louise Weard made herself kind of notorious for her previous movie, ten years ago, Computer Hearts, but even more so for her castration scene supercut at the Fantastic Fest '100 Best Kills' event a couple of years ago - something that has left her feeling a bit pigeonholed into castration scenes. Part of the joke about Castration Movie is then that it's eight hours (only half of that presently available) of trans girls being sad (emotional drama) without any castration until the very end of the movie. It doesn't even come up in the first half.

Technically, this is a four hour long movie - the first part of an eight hour long movie! - consisting largely of very long takes of naturalistic conversations shot on an incredibly grainy camera, now and then mixing that with musical montage and sex scenes. Something I'd raise an eyebrow at on description, and I want to kind of lead with that because like, no joke, this is legit one of the best movies I've seen; those four hours absolutely fly by. Incredibly sharp character writing, incredibly strong naturalistic acting - and unreasonably funny, just way too much.

The first hour or so focuses on Turner, an aspiring film director who spends his time working odd jobs at a film crew and increasingly torpedoing his relationship with his furry-artist girlfriend - someone he clearly isn't very compatible with and views with little actual interest, and his efforts to try and salvage the relationship ring false in ways he's clearly unable to see. But at every turn he doubles down and builds on his resentment and sense of emasculation, until he's picking fights with a living statue in the street and busting into his ex's room late at night.

Along the way we get all sorts of darkly funny conversations - Weard has an incredible eye for subtext and awkwardness, and can lend an ultimately very unsympathetic character like Turner enough sympathetic motivation to make his downward spiral completely human and convincing. It's both sad and terribly funny, perfectly pitched.

The punchline sees him posting to /r9k/ - and at this point we cut to a new story about 'Traps', the film's actual main character, a sex worker in Vancouver played by Weard herself, who is caught up with the drama of various partners and her own completely unresolved shit around transition to make her an entirely unsuitable would-be mentor figure to her friend Adeleine, who's kind of the deuteragonist of this act, cracking under the pressure of being the only one in the house with a shit but paying office job while her boyfriend gets top surgery.

The first act sets us up a frame to look at the second - Traps is a pretty messed up person, but in a deeply understandable way, and it serves in ways to show that the shit she's going through is not some unique trans girl thing but very much the torment of being a human. Desperate for connection and fucking it up, digging ourselves deeper while convinced it's the right thing to do. Along the way, we see her having various kinds of nasty sex, injecting DIY HRT, taking a bunch of cocaine, a trans guy getting top surgery, and various other fun things that I could never stream on twitch (or you bet I'd be planning a screening right away) - but it's also in many ways incredibly matter of fact about all this shit we get up to in a way that feels incredibly real.

It's a film that benefitted a lot from viewing with a largely transfem audience who would laugh at certain lines in the right spirit - I have no idea how this whole thing would come across if you aren't trans and don't know what 'agp' means (about the person saying it as much as anything) lmao. But if you are, it's like the film I never even knew I needed. It's way too real: from amusing setups like the polycule who has the access to DIY HRT trying to drag you into an argument about Dune before one of them wakes up and has a panic attack or daft conversations about boobs, to the pinpoint depiction of the kinds of neuroses we end up carrying from our shitty tenuous work, and of course the friction and fireworks of trying to care for each other when we're all burned out from carrying our own shit. Weard is fearless, and does seem to rather revel in being transgressive, but this is not edge for edge's sake.

And honestly this is 100% what 'trans film', if we can't help but have such a category, needs to be I think - a story heavily informed by the specific fucked up experiences of being trans but not like, About Being Trans(TM) in the way People's Joker was. Uncompromisingly honest (but with plenty of humour) about how we are, which is to say painfully human, rather than cheerfully painting the sort of freeing subculture we'd like to think we have.

I got to talk to Weard quite a bit on Sunday (ending up in a pub with her and a number of other mostly trans festivalgoers), and it turns out the slightly ludicrous length of the film wasn't even planned, with the original idea to edit it down to something like a standard 90 minutes - but when it became evident after shooting the first forty minutes or so that these long scenes were kind of absolute gold, someone (I forget who now) made the case that they shouldn't be cut down at all and to just go for the full behemoth. And honestly? They were fucking right. This did not feel like a four hour film, somehow. There were definitely other films this festival where my mind wandered and I kind of checked out a bit, but not this one.

As a chaser (ha ha) to that, we had Louise Weard's 'Unsee' segment, screened just once in the hour before the clocks change (which is in a certain sense lost to time, or at least that's the joke of this segment). An elaboration on the experience of presenting the castration scene supercut at the '100 Best Deaths' event, it dives into a reprise of that supercut before increasingly alternating with scenes of a kind of introspective monologue on how people reacted to that event and how far Louise herself started to end up feeling like the butt of the joke (even as random cis women accused her of being transphobic lmao).

As the video progresses it segues into an increasingly ridiculous sequence where two of Weard's friends step in (as substitute Louise Weards) reading out her essay of Lacanian film analysis on castration scenes in movies, while Weard (behind the camera) gives them directions to frame the shot to better show her cis ex's boobs. In between, more castration scenes! So many, most of them unfamiliar to me (funny moment when I finally recognised one and my brain was like hey! that's Sálo! and I found myself turning to face Violet with an excited grin before my brain caught up with that)

Among other things, the narration talks about the whole arc being a transgressive tgirl filmmaker who frequently faced some rather ridiculous accusations of being a transphobe or nazi troll (by TV Glow's Jane Schoenbrun, although it seems they have since made up), all in a time when it seems like a lot of her contemporaries in the transgressive film scene actually do seem to end up going nazi; the trouble of getting pigeonholed as the castration person, and so on - but also kind of playing with like oh, fifteen more castration scenes, that's what you want right? So many swerves, and the supercut was in fact very funny (I wonder if I find it easy to laugh instead of wincing since I actually have been castrated lmao), ending in a scene which is constructed to suggest Louise actually cut her balls off for the bit - though since she showed the prop penis earlier it was pretty clear that she didn't. (Yet..?)

It's a really clever bit and superbly entertaining bit of filmmaking, all told. I'm a full Louise Weard convert at this point, can't wait for castration movie part ii.

This post has gotten pretty long now, so I'll write up Sunday tomorrow. Do go watch Castration Movie tho, it's worth your time.

#film #louise weard #castration movie #film festival #the adventures of canmom

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