#fictional characters having complex feelings is my life blood

[mothsantics]

im watching adventure time for the first time with my gf and i cannot fucking imagine following it closely as a kid. it goes from silly nonsense to having a bunch of plot which was is very fun to see, and then also just seeing the relationship of marceline and princess bubblegum progress in real time as a child would be incredible. i would go absolutely insane

they have a short interaction where theres implied history between them and that pb maybe doesnt like her. cool. fun little thing. then the next time they properly interact extensively is during "what was missing", which for those who dont remember is the episode "im just your problem" is from, which like. holy shit dude

going from the most they interact is pb saying "hey marceline..." with some disdain in her voice upon seeing her, to pretty strongly implied gay tension between them. what wouldve happened if i saw that as the show was ongoing?? i was 10 years old at the time. that bitch wouldve had like four (4) awakenings at once upon seeing that scene with full context

[projectdivaar]

SEASON 4 FINALE.........I felt genuinely ill the whole time like my stomach was twisting I was gonna throw up oh my god what the FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[enhypencores]

Bleed Me Dry

Lee Heeseung X Y/N

Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker

Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"

Word Count: 7K+

WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandre, manipulation, mentions of self exit, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.

Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.

Heeseung watched you, mentally tracing the curve of your bottom lip as you awaited the bus, your nose scrunching in disgust at the passing smokers. The fullness of your cheeks flushed red as the scorching heat streamed through your hand’s barrier, and the silky strands of brown hair cascaded down your neck as you climbed up the bus. Your forehead wrinkled as you leaned down to scan your card, and your nimble steps took you to the end row. Sweat drops trickled down the bony line of your collarbone, dipping into your white collar, dampening the fabric as your eyes rolled back and your head fell slack against the teetering glass window.

This was his sign.

He strutted through the door and beelined towards the back. He was so close to settling down, just another step, and he'd be enveloped in your presence when all his plans fell through the window. He halted, his eyes widening in disbelief as a boy settled beside you, unaware of the fury he had just unleashed within Heeseung's blood. Heeseung swallowed the colourful words itching up his throat and forced himself into the seat behind, away from you.

He stared at the gap between your shoulders, bitterness pooling in his chest. Each time the boy's arm brushed against yours, Heeseung's restraint wavered, his nails digging into his palm as he envisioned tearing the boy's joint off for daring to feel you. His temper flared when he spotted your oblivious frame, still, sound asleep like a princess in the comfort of her sheets. You were so perplexingly naive, falling asleep in a bus full of men waiting to pounce on meek girls like yourself. It usually took around forty-five minutes for you to reach home, but you could've at least placed your bag on the vacant seat so no one—except him—would take the spot beside you.

Heeseung trained his gaze on his wristwatch, every tick of the short hand's movement making him lose his mind. He could've been the one pressed against your shoulders, bathing in your essence, had that loser found another spot. Fortunately, he didn't have to dwell in misery for long because at the very next stop, the loser grabbed his bag from the floor, preparing to leave. Heeseung analysed his watch.

Ten minutes. Gone.

Ten minutes he could've spent right beside you.

The boy stood alert, pressing the button, and the bus came to a standstill. As he stepped through the aisle, his foot landed against a round object, throwing him off balance and sending him tumbling to the ground with his jawline scraping against the hard floor. The entire bus gasped in unison as the boy sat up, his frantic gaze searching for the perpetrator.

A round basketball swirled by his feet.

"Shit, that slipped. My bad," Heeseung muttered, standing from his seat and holding out his hand with an apologetic smile, which the unsuspecting boy accepted with an embarrassed grin.

Heeseung watched the boy rub at his injured chin, confused at the ball's magical appearance as he tugged on his bag's strap and stammered out of the bus with an obvious limp.

Hopefully, that injury lasted ten days to account for the ten precious minutes of Heeseung's life.

Immediately, Heeseung turned back, glancing at your limp frame. His heart raced at the sight. He took small, calculated steps before gently lowering himself into the seat beside you. At the first brush of your elbow, Heeseung's body grew warm, heart drumming faster within his chest. He itched to press his entire body against yours. For now, however, he slightly edged closer, letting your clothed shoulder graze his arm, his eyes rolling shut at the subtle contact.

For the past month, he was a silent observer, watching you walk from your university to the bus, bus to your house in a disciplined schedule. It became part of his very routine. He would wait around your campus at 3:00 sharp to follow you onto the bus and spend the next blissful forty-five minutes watching you sleep away. Heeseung would climb off at your stop, ensuring you crossed the road safely. Only when your back disappeared into the villa and yellow lights at the right-end corner flickered to life would Heeseung return to get a bus back.

He was watching over you to keep you safe. The world lurked with dangers, and you were so innocent, so beautiful, so mesmerizing, so agonizingly weak like a frail flower in a garden full of cacti. He had no option but to take on the role of a silent guardian, protecting you from the world. He told himself he valued your safety. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. He needed to be near you, to feel your presence, to submerge within your life and become a part woven for your pleasure.

Usually, he stayed a safe distance away to admire your presence. A week ago, he stared at the empty seat with longing. Like an addiction, his tolerance had grown. Seeing you from afar wasn't enough. He wanted to feel your presence. His body automatically followed his yearning, getting up and climbing into the seat beside yours.

And since then, he couldn't get enough.

All of a sudden, Heeseung's focus wavered as the bus came to an abrupt halt. He impulsively brought his arm around your frame, viciously eyeing the driver for his rash turn. As he felt something drop against his shoulder, Heeseung froze. He gulped carefully, turning to inspect you.

His insides twisted in joy. The sight of your sleeping frame leaning against him with your head on his shoulder was enough to make him forget his annoyance at the bus driver. Heeseung shifted closer to let your head rest in the crevice of his neck.

His breath hitched at the contact; your face pressed firmly into his bare neck. Flesh on flesh. His hand clenched into a strained fist, nails digging into his palm, leaving indents as your warm breath nuzzled down his collarbone and spread to his chest. He looked down at your unresponsive frame and realised he had never seen you so up close.

With the closer angle, he noticed washed-out freckles like sand dust trailing down your nose. Your eyelashes were curled black, resting low on your cheeks angelically. Your mouth was cutely pressed into a light pout against his top, your nose squished into his collarbones, making his hairs rise.

Heeseung urged himself to calm down. If you heard the frantic pacing of his heart, you'd wake up before he had the chance to revel in your skin's warmth. He breathed in the scent of fresh vanilla, something inside his abdomen stirring as he realised how you might leave him smelling like yourself, like a protective feline, marking their territory. Heeseung smiled, his body automatically turning towards you, eyes shining in anticipation.

Your body craved him just as badly as he craved you.

Thirty-five minutes passed by in the blink of an eye. He didn't even register the familiar streets treading along the window, his sight and mind filled with images of your pretty face when suddenly your phone beeped, jerking you awake. Heeseung swore under his breath, body recoiling in complaint as you pulled away, grabbing the phone in your jeans pocket and shutting off the alarm. He forced himself to look the other way, his breathing unsteady as he restrained the urge to yank you back.

Roused awake, you quickly stood alert, pressing the button, your knees accidentally bumping into the stranger's legs as you proceeded to step out of the aisle. You turned back to look at the masked man. 

He watched, breath-held, heart thudding.

His wide eyes met yours, and you gave him a suppressed smile before walking off.

Goosebumps. His head felt like jelly, mind straining to grasp at the smile you sent his way—a smile meant for him—not the kind one you give the shopkeeper when he hands you your groceries—not the empathetic one you flash to the older citizens slowly climbing the bus—not the patient one you give to the raucous bikers outside the campus—a soft, sweet, and memorable smile. Only for him.

Heeseung was so dazed that he simply forgot to get off at the stop with you. Instead, he sat rigid, attempting to process the burst of emotions within his chest. He looked down and—thank fuck he did because he might’ve missed it if he was preoccupied in following behind. There, on his grey flannel, an inch lower from his collar, was a wet mark that belonged to you. Not only did you leave him smelling like your vanilla body wash, but you also stained him with your saliva.

His heart thrummed. He pulled his mask down. With his lower region tingling, his hand instinctively grabbed at the collar to pull the wet fabric into his mouth. Head dropping back, his vision blurred, his body tightening at the first taste of your mouth.

He lapped at the spot like a starved man, his legs pressing together to relieve some of the tension in his painfully hard centre. Sweat built up in his clenched fist as he sucked the fabric and rolled his tongue against it, wishing he could feel it directly from your mouth rather than the brittle cotton of his shirt. His desires had climbed up a new ladder; nothing was enough anymore. He needed to lap at the delicate roundness of your lips, suck off your taste from inside, and drown his tongue in its heat.

He needed you, physically, emotionally—unabashed and unhidden.

It was time.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Extracurriculars were starting to take a toll on your mental health. You were already part of the university’s student advisory council and head of the reading club. With exams looming and Miss Sol’s exhaustive dance training sessions, you were certain you would either fail all your exams or get home on a stretcher. For the past week, you had been getting home around sunset, but today, you finished training earlier. Giddily, you jumped onto the bus, excited to get home and munch on ramen before your older brother got his hands on it.

You sat in your usual backseat and immediately fell asleep.

When your alarm blared, you quickly silenced your phone and got up, pressing the button to alert the bus driver. You glanced to your side, expecting to see the masked man who had unknowingly become your bus ride companion, but his seat was vacant. Confused, you glanced around, but only saw aged faces and school students. 

Strange. You assumed he was a college student like yourself, never skipping a day.

You shrugged, climbed off the bus and made your way across the main road toward your house. As you strutted inside the villa, a blinding object flashed past your vision, clashing against your torso and shoving you to the floor. You looked up furiously.

The culprit, your smug brother with his blonde hair falling against his eyes, kneeled down to grab the basketball. “Weren’t you supposed to get home late?” His accusatory tone made you want to scratch the smirk off his mouth.

“Oh, sorry for colliding into your ball.” You smiled sarcastically, standing up. His sardonic smile widened.

“Don’t do it again, little sis,” he grinned, and your patience flew out the window. You jumped up to grab his hair, but as if anticipating your attack, he dodged, sprinting down the hallway with the ball cocooned in his embrace.

“Sim Jaeyun!” You screeched, chasing him through the lounge and out the backdoor toward the inbuilt basketball court. 

You never hated your short height, but in moments like these, you wished you had inherited your father’s long legs. As you watched him speed up beside the basketball court, you frustratedly changed your route, dashing into the square-shaped arena, running diagonally, hoping the Pythagorean theorem would help you reach Jake faster.

With your gaze trained on your target, you saw Jake dribble the ball ahead as you blindly ran down the court, so blind that you didn’t notice a taller figure standing in your way. You collided into a frame, slamming against a hard chest, sending you both tumbling to the ground. You gasped, eyes bulging out as a pair of brown eyes stared at you, wide with panic.

You muttered a rushed apology, attempting to get up when you noticed his arms were locked around your waist protectively.

“Get off Heeseung, you midget!” Jake yelled, nearing your limp frame. You gave him a scorned glare, sitting up as the man’s arms slowly fell away. You stood up together as Jake dribbled his basketball, an amused grin on his features.

Sourly glaring, you didn’t hesitate to whip Jake with your bag. He groaned, almost flinging the basketball at you when the black-haired man pushed ahead immediately, blocking your brother’s aggression.

“She’s a menace. Let me deal with it,” Jake bitterly told the stranger.

“Shut up, Jake! You’re the menace in this household,” you huffed, glaring at him.

Then, your gaze settled back on the brown-eyed man, and your cheeks flushed red as you surveyed the stranger’s features. Ethereal. Big eyes as naïve as a deer’s, a peculiarly sharp nose, plump, wet lips, and dark ebony hair—the man was majestic. Dressed in a grey tank top and trousers, sweat clung to his tan skin, dripping down his well-built biceps like honey. He seemed to have walked straight out of a sports tournament.

“Who’s this?” You blurted out, eyeing the handsome man with flushed cheeks.

“Heeseung, a friend. Heeseung, this is Y/N, unfortunately, related to me.” You smacked your bag into his stomach, pushing him back as he doubled over and clutched his torso, glaring at you through his gold bangs. 

“That’s no way to treat your younger sister, Jake,” Heeseung's stern voice oozed masculine charm—almost giving you whiplash. His reprimanding made your brother’s temper dissolve, and he unclenched his jaw, nodding obediently. You stared, baffled at the sudden shift in his demeanour.

You had never seen your older brother submissively agree with anyone—not even your parents. Having a one-year age gap, the older child's privilege, and spoiled treatment from your parents really did a number on him. His friend group consisted of boys who worked like dogs to gain his acceptance, and your brother bathed in the glory. He wasn’t overtly arrogant, but good grades and amazing basketball performances would make anyone feel like they owned the world. Not to mention, his faked kind personality had everyone running laps. You can’t even count how many hearts he’d broken from middle school to university. 

Watching him listen to Heeseung, you could tell he was someone important to your brother.

You glanced back at the towering man. He even carried himself with an air of indifference, intimidating yet undeniably attractive, commanding everyone’s interest. Under the sunlight, his pupils glowed like lit candles, growing small into a crescent shape as a warm smile grazed his lips, his gaze softening. Tousled strands fell into his dreamy eyes as he nodded. Baffled, you wondered how one second, he seemed like an intimidating adult, reprimanding the kids, and the other moment, he appeared boyish and charming, his eyes brimming with youthful energy. 

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue like butter, making your insides curl.

The night you met him, you stalked your brother’s account to find that intriguing man. You scoured through hundreds of Jake’s irrelevant followers, desperately searching for an account starting with the letter H. To your disappointment, no such account existed.

You wondered if Heeseung was old school and went down a rabbit hole, searching through the depths of Facebook. Lee Heeseung—his name in itself was traditional and old, so you didn’t even come across any likely accounts. You gave up and tried asking Jake; however, your brother rarely answered any of your questions. You had no choice but to wait for another encounter. 

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Like a surprising miracle, the next encounter came earlier than expected. A week later, you were buried in exam questions, struggling to absorb the entire pharmacology textbook, when the doorbell rang. You tried to ignore it, but after several insistent rings, you begrudgingly stomped to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone; your parents were at a dinner party, and Jake was at a cram class. You mentally prepared yourself to scream at the neighbour’s kids who frequently stood outside your door to mess around. 

You flung the door open, ready to unleash your frustrations, when your jaw dropped. The familiar round eyes met yours, kickstarting a joyous flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Heeseung stood as handsome as the first day, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He carried a bunch of hefty books, his gaze searching behind you.

“Y/N,” he called your name, and your ears reddened. He enunciated each syllable as if he knew you for ages, called you it for ages.

“Jaeyun left some astrophysics books at my place.” He peered at the stack in his hold.

You smiled apologetically because, of course, your forgetful brother did. 

“He’s out right now,” you told him. “But that’s alright, I’ll take these.” His smile softened as he held out the books. You stepped closer, circling your arm around the stack, but your weak arms failed to carry the weight, embarrassingly almost dropping them to the floor. 

Heeseung quickly tightened his hold on the books, pulling back with a teasing smile. “I’ll take them in,” he stated. Before you could reject his kindness, he stepped inside, pausing in the hallway.

You led him to the lounge, where he kept the books on the wooden table. You offered him a smile as your heart beat frantically. Watching him stand close in your vicinity when you were home alone felt like all your prayers had been answered.

He turned to look at you, pulling back the strands that had fallen against his vision. A smile stretched his lips. “You were studying?” He asked, his voice low yet echoing in the empty hall. Your lips parted, eyes wide in shock.

“How’d you know?” You questioned incredulously.

His smile morphed into a grin. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently pulled the pencil from your hair. The hair bun unravelled, brown strands running down your neck, grazing his fingertips as something flickered in his gaze. He watched the soft layers frame your face. You giggled, face warming up. You tried to grab the pencil, but Heeseung pulled it away, smirking at your embarrassment.

“Let me guess, pharmacology is kicking your ass?” He scoffed, and you gasped in retaliation.

“Now, how do you know my degree?” You stared in confusion.

He chuckled. “Your brother says it’s your worst decision.”

Fucking Sim Jaeyun. Always ruining your reputation everywhere with his big ass mouth.

You sighed, rolling your eyes in frustration. You somewhat disliked your crush knowing about your crisis with that god-awful degree.

“I’m doing fine,” you bitterly claimed. “I ace Biochem and almost every other module. Anatomy is just from the depths of hell,” you spewed some irrelevant achievements, immediately cringing at how self-indulgent you sounded.

God, you were pathetic. You wondered if Heeseung saw through your façade.

Heeseung shifted his weight onto his right leg. “I can help,” he offered, a flamboyant grin flashing across his features as he nodded at your shocked expression. “I ace Anatomy all the time,” he mocked your tone, lips twisting in a teasing smile.

You huffed. Guys usually scored seventy per cent and flaunted it like they won a Nobel prize. “What’s your highest test score?” Your overconfident-self asked, folding your arms over your chest with an egoistic smile.

He watched silently for a moment before returning that sharp smile.

“3.9.”

Pfft. You rolled your eyes, grabbing at your hair in frustration. Was Heeseung as annoying as Jake? “Real funny,” you scoffed, wishing you could erase the smugness off his handsome face.

“3.9 GPA in premed.”

Oh.

Your overconfidence deflated like a balloon. Heeseung smirked and stepped closer, arms folded over his lean chest, mocking your demeanour.

“So?”

You nervously gulped, stepping back from his overwhelming presence. This tall, gorgeous man had casually revealed his Einstein-level intelligence, and now, you felt utterly stupid, crying over some basic anatomy. Even Jake struggled to maintain a decent 3.5.

Your eyes widened as you registered the situation again. Heeseung was offering his help. Even if he thought you were stupid, you could change that, prove him wrong and possibly gather more information about him through a tutoring session, for example, unearth his socials. You could probably get closer and know more.

With your decision made, you nodded at him.

“Alright.”

Heeseung felt like he’d plummet to the floor in relief. He watched the curiosity in your doe eyes gleam as you determinedly stepped towards the hallway, walking up the stairs. He took the first step, his knees trembling as he watched you peppily jump to the right-end door. You were showing him the way to your bedroom.

Your bedroom.

Heeseung’s body fired up like an overheated kettle, his muscles tensing against the railing. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, turning to wait for him. How naïve. How fucking naïve. You had opened up your home, welcomed him inside, and now you were leading him into your personal space, the small corner in this massive house that belonged solely to you, the corner he was used to seeing from outside the house. 

Were you that stupid?

He had seen your parents leave in glamorous attire with a bouquet of flowers, indicating they'd be gone for a substantial time. Jake wasn’t home, attending cram school from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. That left you… vulnerable and alone.

Despite his resolve to wait a good two weeks before visiting again, Heeseung’s patience had worn thin. That initial meeting, feeling your soft curves press into his chest as you toppled over him, had ignited a craving in him. Your scent mingled with his, your body fitting perfectly against him—it had all transcended his tolerance. He had felt his internal organs shift with momentary bliss, his body reacting as if you were made to be felt by him.

Now he was here, in your house, in your presence.

He knew the moment he stepped into your room, he couldn’t leave until he made you his, in some way, in any way. Anticipation bubbled in his veins as he rushed up the stairs.

“Heeseung?”

He froze, his body whipping around to face the intruder. His gaze turned to steel, jaw tightening at the sight of a confused Jake standing in the doorway.

Sim—Fucking—Jaeyun, the brother who wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour.

“Jake?” you inquired, stepping back out and shutting your door. Heeseung’s fists clenched as he stared at the closed door, frustration churning in his stomach. So close. He had been just a step away from entering your room.

Beneath that door lay the key to your heart. Access to your room meant understanding your interests, habits, likes, and dislikes, transforming himself into the man you dreamed of. Jake was a limited source. How much does a brother really talk about his sister?

“What’re you doing here?” Jake questioned as Heeseung and you descended the stairs.

“He was here to drop off the books you read as a useless hobby, so I asked for help with Anatomy,” you explained, smiling at Heeseung, who now seemed oddly stern.

Jake snickered, pulling off his baseball cap to let blonde locks fall into his eyes. “You’re pestering my friend for anatomy?” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

“No, I offered,” Heeseung replied, his tone sharp and cutting through. You turned your head in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour. “Don’t you stay for an extra lesson?” Heeseung raised his brow, seemingly well-versed in Jake’s schedule.

“Yeah, but they let us out early since we’ve covered the semester,” Jake responded, indifferent to Heeseung’s tone, as he tossed his bag onto the floor.

“Up for a round of LOL?” Jake rubbed his palms together in excitement.

Heeseung’s cold gaze changed with a hint of amusement as he nodded. He turned to you, his smile languid. “Sorry Y/N, League of Legends will always be my first choice,” he declared.

“It’s cool, I’ll survive,” you scoffed, jogging back up the stairs and closing your door to resume studying.

Dropping into the armchair, your thoughts drifted to the sudden shift in atmosphere at Jake’s arrival. Jake and Heeseung’s friendship seemed...strange. Your brother followed Heeseung’s lead without question, even overlooking his friend's occasional indifference. Jake, a softie, who would give you the silent treatment for calling him a nerd, yapping about ‘she called me a bad word’ to your mother, seemed unfazed by Heeseung’s intimidating nature.

Shaking your head, you forced your attention back to your studies, determined to focus despite the lingering curiosity.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Another round. 

Another one.

One more.

Heeseung was losing patience, hectically pressing buttons on the Nintendo Switch, his fingers straining to match his brain’s pace. With a hazy vision, Heeseung turned to inspect Jake. Finally, the blonde had lost his will to play, dropping to the couch as snores wracked his frame. It had taken five gruelling hours of continuous rounds, but it would all be worth it.

The opportunity had presented itself, Heeseung internally reasoned. He didn’t sneak into your house or anything— he had greeted your parents when they returned and even ate some snacks your mother had lovingly offered. He was not an intruder. He was a guest, and now the guest was wandering in search of a bathroom. He knew Jake’s bathroom was down the hall, but he purposely overlooked that route, opting instead to tread up the staircase. With every step, rugged creaks whispered in the darkness, but Jake’s tumultuous snores helped mask his motives. 

Soon, he was standing before your door. And this time, he was unstoppable because no one would bother you at 3 AM.

Breath held, lips pressed in silent tension, he pulled at the handle and slipped inside. A thicker blanket of darkness clouded his vision. Freezing against the door, Heeseung blinked rapidly, determined to accommodate his vision. Streaks of streetlight treaded inside from the edge of the curtain, letting him finally see his surroundings, and he turned to inspect the room.

A study desk toppled with bulks of books and papers with sharpies and pens laid at the edge. Heeseung quietly stepped towards it, his finger grazing the neat text, written with keen attention. His chest tingled when he imagined you pepped up on the swivelling chair, jotting down intricate notes with such pretty handwriting. By the look of it, he could tell you were at the top of your studies, a beauty with brains.

Heeseung noticed your phone charging on the edge of the table and quickly grabbed a hold of it. He didn’t know enough to unlock your phone, but he could easily download his new software without a fuss. Heeseung pulled out his phone, automatically airdropping the relevant file to yours. The new software wasn’t an ordinary tracking device, but it even synced your live activity. Now onwards, all your texts and calls would go through him. The only drawback? He needed time for the syncing to finalise.

He put your phone down, but his gaze caught the back cover, and he immediately inspected it. You kept a Polaroid inside the cover, a beautiful smile lighting up your features as you stood next to your best friend at what seemed like Disneyland. Heeseung wanted to cherish your smile, but noticing the arm your friend easily draped across your waist, fury seethed beyond his pupils.

Why were people so effortlessly a part of your life? Why did it come so easily to everyone but him? To him, you were so distant like a dream. He had to bide his time, pretend to be patient, and even befriend a narcissist like Jake, just to make you aware of his existence.

Why couldn’t he just have you?

Heeseung turned away, his mood soured, his gaze searching for something to get his mind off the bitterness. The room was… perplexingly simple. Most of your personality was huddled on that desk; the walls were empty with just a cuckoo clock in the centre and a bean bag resting against the wardrobe. Dispiritedly, he allowed himself to gaze at the bed.

A master bed served with your petite frame wrapped like a sushi roll on a platter.

Heeseung’s body grew warm at the sight. You were in dreamland, the sound of slow breathing now clearer to his ears as he crept closer. He stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze running over your frame. To his displeasure, your face was hidden from his prying eyes, strands disorderly shadowing your features, evoking his irritation.

He couldn’t help it. He found himself getting nearer, your scent getting stronger, soft vanilla teasing his nostrils. Placing his knee on the white sheets, he leaned forward and brushed the strands off your face.

Long lashes rested against your tinted cheeks, round parted lips with a hint of drool running past the corner. Heeseung didn’t even notice when he had dropped himself on the sheets’, his torso completely resting beside your sleeping frame. 

Heaven. The sheets were warm and immersed in your scent, giving him the illusion of your embrace. 

His palms itched to touch. His tongue felt heavy with appetite. He had memorised every inch of your beauty to see you behind his eyelids, but his hands still didn’t know your touch.

Heeseung impulsively reached out, his index finger grazing your bottom lip. Instantly, heat spread from his chest down to his centre. His fingers trembled as he traced the rose petals. Your slow breaths coupled with the softness of your lips made his hunger flare up. He trailed the finger down your chin, collecting your drool, and he transferred it to his mouth, impatiently sucking in your taste. 

He couldn’t help the urge to lower himself, stick his tongue out and slide it against your bottom lip.

His toes curled, his eyes falling shut.

Euphoria. 

Suddenly, he felt like a teenager sharing his first kiss. Your saliva was like sugar melting on his tongue, a taste so delectable that his insides curled in starvation. Heeseung wasn’t a fan of desserts, but your flavour humbled him, making him realise what he’d been missing all his life. He preferred the taste of wine and burnt spices, believing his palate was too mature for anything so juvenile. Yet, god—your lips were like the first shot of his high. Suddenly, sweet things became irresistible.

His lower region tingled as his flicks became harsher, his mouth wide open in mindless hunger, his drool messily spilling on your lips. His mind buzzed, body twisting into the sheet in urgency; your taste had rendered him so weak that he was willing to disrupt his entire plan just from the heat of your mouth.

He felt his arousal strain through his trousers as he tried sliding his tongue in the small gleaming gap in your lips when suddenly he felt you stir. He jerked away, breath heaving, lips drenched with spit. Narrow-eyed, he surveyed your features.

Please not yet. Please, baby.

Instead of ruining his plans, you simply tugged the blanket low. He saw your tongue peek out and run over your bottom lip and gulp down his saliva. It was unintentional and child-like, maybe, one of your sleeping habits. But Heeseung’s blood burned at the sight, his mouth drying up, pupils darkening.

His gaze chased lower, and he spotted a silver of skin, peaking through the cover. The blanket was tangled low on your waist, exposing your brunched-up shirt to his hungry eyes. He didn’t even bother fighting his lascivious thoughts, abruptly tugging up your shirt to reveal your stomach. Heeseung crawled down, his lips immediately pressing into the golden skin, trailing restrained kisses up your waistline. His restrain wavered when he was presented with the sight of your tiny belly button. His mouth salivated as he observed the little hole. Instantly his tongue lashed out, dipping into the curve. His body hummed, his vision blurring as his hips involuntarily thrust into the sheets. He wanted to fill—every hole—every crevice that let him invade. If there was a part he couldn’t physically access, he wanted to stab holes and punch his essence in every corner to mark you as his.

Saliva pooled down his jawline, drenching your abdomen as he protruded his needy tongue into your warm button. He flicks become hungrier, needier, his hands scrambling to grope something—anything. With cheeks pressed flat against your damp stomach, he bit down on his lip to silence the groan itching up his throat as he squeezed your waist.

Fuck. You were made to be touched. You were made to be his clay. You were made to mould into his favourite plaything. You were made for him to love.

Inhale.

Heeseung’s gaze darted to your face, his muscles tensing at the sharp inhale.

Fuck—shit—fuck—your eyes were half open.

Survival instincts kicked in, and Heeseung rolled off the bed at lightning speed, slithering beneath it, pressing his lips together to steady his breathing. The bed creaked as you shifted and sat up. He could almost picture it: your heavy-lidded eyes widening in alarm, the image of a flushed Heeseung gazing up at you—poof—gone, like a mystical encounter. You’d wonder if seeing him there was a figment of your imagination. You’d gulp and rub your template, accepting your insanity.

Heeseung envisioned it all—and he was right.

You were going crazy, thinking about Heeseung, your brother’s best friend, doing sickening, revolting, absolutely heavenly things to you. You didn’t recall dreaming of him, but you might be a stage two schizophrenic because you were now hallucinating his presence. Your body was overly indulged in the hallucination, feverish and covered in goosebumps. You kicked off the blanket, noticing your shirt pooled up, your stomach warm, limbs shaking.

Heeseung waited, his heartbeat steadying as you showed no sign of suspicion. Just like he had imagined. Your insecure mind probably convinced you otherwise. Sometimes, even seeing doesn’t translate to believing—especially for someone as pure-hearted as you. You’d rather doubt your own soul than accuse anyone else of foul play. He’d have to teach you to believe in yourself more than this world—he’d force you to grow a thorn in that beautiful heart, so no one could taint it. Except him.

He lay there, flushed—dazed. He laid there for hours until your laborious breaths morphed into sweet lullabies.

As he slid out the bed, he turned towards you, his heart throbbing with adoration.

You were back to being a little sushi roll, covered with a blanket, your hair sticking to your face as you slept like a log. The mere thought of someone else seeing you innocently asleep made his blood boil. He'd gladly crack open their skulls, extract their hippocampi, and flush them down the toilet to erase any trace of you from their minds.

Heeseung stepped closer and gently kissed your head. He inhaled deeply, savouring your scent from your flushed frame. Reluctantly, he stepped back, grabbed his phone and ensured the sync was complete before heading out the door.

He had to speed things up; the wait was becoming unbearable.

Straight away, Heeseung took a cab home. There was a solid hour before his morning lecture, so he immediately threw himself into his bed and analysed the synced files on his phone.

Details from your phone helped him understand you, but he didn’t know everything just yet. He scrolled through your notes. You liked watching dramatic sitcoms about housewives and divorces. Your YouTube was just a diverse cookbook: most watched clips were recipes ranging from brownies to egg soufflé to Arabic hummus. He chuckled as he noticed some dance tutorials. He would love to see you dance one day.

Your social media presence was barely a drop in his research. You had zero posts, and mostly followed celebrities and high school girlfriends. Looking into your teenage years, to Heeseung’s relief, you had been to an all-girls school. He scoured your followers for any guys, but except for some male actors, you didn’t seem to have anyone worth noting.

The syncing only allowed access to a specific set of photos you had downloaded from your PC onto the mobile. There was a total of six pictures— three of those were of the fucking sunset. The rage he felt as he patiently waited for the pictures to download only to be met with an ugly ball of yellow light was unfathomable.

As he scrolled, he found a picture of a younger girl in a white sundress sitting beside a boy who proudly held up a fishing net, occupied with three mackerels, a memory of Jake and your childhood. His heart felt warm as he zoomed into your features. Unknowingly, he was tracing the line of your smile, the shape of your eyes on the screen, a dumb smile playing on his own lips.

He snapped out of it and scrolled ahead. The following picture was a group photo from— high school. You were the centre of attention, your hair up in a ponytail, a vivid smile glossing your features as girls huddled around you. He felt the magnetic pull exuding your frame even from lifeless photos— making him wish he had opted for your area, so he could have found you earlier. He believed whatever time frame he found you, he would have pounced to get you to himself.

Heeseung forcibly clicked off and opened the last photo in the synced album. His smile wiped off, his body sitting alert, his gaze narrowed and fixated on the screen. Your university’s back entrance had a swing where he noticed couples hanging and making out.

In the snapped photo, you were perched on top of the wooden swing, eating an ice lolly with a man behind you, his hands on your shoulders, a shit-eating grin on his face whilst pointing at the camera.

Heeseung’s grip on his phone tightened. From the outskirts, he hadn’t seen that face anywhere near you, but then again, how much could one know as an outsider. 

No.

Jake’s mocking insults about your love life were proof of your singularity.

He hated knowing such little about your world. He hated someone so undeserving and irrelevant could touch you so easily when he had to watch you from the shadows, dwell on small encounters.

He had to find this guy and ensure your protection before he could even think of disclosing his love for you. Whatever this man was, Heeseung had to know more.

[changbunnies]

If You Call Me (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?, basically my take on the ever classic misunderstood bad boy x good girl trope

♡ Word Count: 43.8k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past– that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written, only described vaguely), past / referenced parental death (not described), chan has more than a bit of a savior complex tbh lol, self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events of various type are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! heed the warnings and don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t.

And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity.

As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable.

And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life.

You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events.

You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature.

You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve– Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking.

The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why?

Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy?

You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time.

You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days you’d be lucky, able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked.

Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even– an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness.

There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend.

You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone. You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had.

All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control– your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way.

You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however– because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party– not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved.

Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you. They would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them.

And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard– you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience. 

And it was fun– for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together. 

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing– the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.  

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore– you wouldn’t let him. 

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet– not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you. 

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in as you rush past them, and dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as soon as his gaze locked on you.

You wonder how you looked to the others settled around the steps– hopefully, just like a drunk girl in desperate need for the bathroom, instead of a dreadfully panicked one. Regardless, your dash up the steps was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through. 

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right?

It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. You moved on, and surely he has to– you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together. 

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue. 

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?” 

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you.

“Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel. Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn. 

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil.

Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong.

You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place.

So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell. 

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless. 

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize calls to Jaehyung, taking you both by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange– he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him.

He’s… intimidated? “Oh c'mon, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief. 

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now.

“Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit– or anyone’s for that matter.” 

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands. 

And that’s what Jae wants– he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged.

He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass– though Jae still manages to shoulder checks the stranger angrily on his way out. A sigh of relief leaves you once your tormentor is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger who evidentially lives here asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what you remember is apparentally his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple. 

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury– whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jaehyung is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight. 

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now.

He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic– your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain.

And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back. 

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything– just to make sure Jae will leave you alone if he's still around. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and– uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion– it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction. 

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood. 

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration– nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake. 

You decide to sit at his desk, concluding that it's the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be– dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep. 

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.” 

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do– you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do. 

“Oh, no, I–” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me– got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it– you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with.

There was even a time you considered it; when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. “I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.”

“Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I– ..didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel? 

Like kindred spirits– two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets. 

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he– well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape– like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it. 

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good enough grades, I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have– you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now. 

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today– he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters. 

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are– someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person. 

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen.

“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you–” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs. 

“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together. 

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.” 

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again. 

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers. 

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon. 

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines.

You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. It also occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again.

You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend the local college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came. 

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you? 

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on.

A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place. 

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you. 

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because having a little bit of alchol in your system made you uninhibited enough to feel the need to bare your entire heart? Because he was nice to you?

That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo, and only listened to you to be polite. 

God, you were spiraling– one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life regardless, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know– know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why? 

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you.

Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own, of course; you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way. But now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it. 

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan– what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness? 

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that– that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread.

Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be. 

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose– he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay. 

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though. 

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing. 

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking.

The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here? 

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended. 

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here?

Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay. 

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him. 

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him. 

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you– shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh.

“It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae– Chan.

He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot, clutching you tighter in his hand to try and steady himself. “Wha– who the fuck?” 

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and finally release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks.

“You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’ Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth.

“You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again– and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile, but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks– at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly. 

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley.

But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone– your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect. 

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain.

And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made. Most of all, you just hated Jae– truly, deeply hated him.

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves– the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry– Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? It's my fault, so why don’t I buy you a new coffee?”

“Huh?" you blink, surprised by his offer; once again, he's helping you when he has no reason to, and trying to process it makes your brain lag. "Oh– you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault at all, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond after a moment, not yet meeting his gaze. 

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that– a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly.

You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before.

You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation he came across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping you was completely different. Was he really that selfless? 

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask, still struggling to make sense of his kindness towards you. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious.

Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of it is enough to make you emotional. 

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do– he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before.

You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it. 

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.”

“Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”  

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his.

You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact. You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.  

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but they ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung! And Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and–

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand– it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?”

“Oh– yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity.

“How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise. The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it.

“I, uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!” 

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this.

Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands. “You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt.

“N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” 

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had– and you like that.

Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will. 

Without even thinking about it, he ran– he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that.

What Chan felt instead was disgust. He thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull– and Chan would happily be the one to do that. 

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized.

The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, instead offering your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick with anger. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it.

Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better. 

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive. 

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts whilst he was busy– most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours. 

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N! 

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. “What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh.

“Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking.

“Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself.

Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.” 

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight. 

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay? 

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin. 

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year.

And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered. 

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through.

At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough. 

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble.

Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him. 

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to. 

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him. 

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with. A homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is. 

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness– that even though they miss or long for that period of time in their life, they accept that they cannot return to it. They look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what they had.

They miss the joy they felt in those simpler times, the days where they were taken care of and pampered by their parents, where every meal was provided for them and they spent all of their free time worry free, watching their favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end. 

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do?

Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried.

He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling. 

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what if's and should be's of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier– like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either– he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there.

Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding him that the hole in his heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels. 

Fuck it. 

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14 a.m– not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders?

No– better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill– he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries.

He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them– very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it.

He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it– the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled. 

Minho comforted him, of course– he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt– just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness.

And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now– not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and being built upon. 

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again.

He wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song is, wants to your your thoughts on whatever new meal you tried out for dinner. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to. 

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets?

He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight. 

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material, and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently. 

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards. 

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you?

He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment, and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer.

There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history– why did that make him feel so warm inside? 

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you.

It was kind of like thinking aloud; like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind. Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you.

You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see. 

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after.

But then there came the next dilemma– getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him. 

“You can stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that–”

“N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you cleared your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean– I’ll stay.” Chan nodded, standing up to go up to his room with you; you didn’t need to be led there of course, you already knew where it is, but Chan needed to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night.

A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. “I’ll see you in the morning, uhm– let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he said with a slight smile before he departed, doing his best to close the door behind himself despite how full his hands were.

Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30 a.m. He doubts you're still awake, and even if you are, he's decided he won't bother you. But if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he hopes it's from thinking about you comfortably wrapped in his blankets upstairs, instead of any of the other things that attempt to gnaw at him.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in.

Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter! You’re going insane, you think– you can’t take it.

You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about how it'd be if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and– please brain stop!!

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it. 

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him? 

And you think about the first time you saw him smile– really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you.

You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, by every thing you learned about him; every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest.

He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan– one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words. 

You learned a lot about them that day too– about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.)

Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste. 

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent. 

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life.

You loved how anytime someone praised him, or had anything even remotely positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was.

And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to– a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child. 

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough. 

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way. 

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence– Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area.

Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit. He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforted you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it.

The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too. 

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and of Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that– he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that. 

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough fuel for your growing crush on him, enough to make your heart beat out of control. 

Was he still awake? Chan told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check?

There was certainly no harm in it– if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, while you'd try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go. 

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom.

It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space. He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night.

He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?” 

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy, you think, but don't admit, “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.” 

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms.

“Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.” 

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown.

“..What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his. 

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan– he was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know– should I go put him back?” 

“Nah, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.”

“I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers. They still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same questions he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about.

“What they were like? You must still think about them a lot.” Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. He’s used to being asked what happened, how he's coping, if there’s anything he needs– no one has ever asked about what they were like when they were still here.

He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a terse, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation. 

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed.

Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. And he's not confident he can talk with you about how good they were without breaking down, but he can still share a little of how he feels, can't he?

“I do,” he answers after a moment, voice ever so slightly wavering. It's a simple response, sure, but not for Chan– nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels comfortable enough to try.

And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up.

You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you– an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him. 

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself.

He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even. He wants nothing to be off limits, to be his authentic self before you, even if who he is deep down is ugly and scarred.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times.

But you– you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness.

No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes– even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls.

He doesn’t want that with you– if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe? 

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat."

"Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy. 

Normally, the sympathy of others make him feel sick. He hates the pity, hates the attention that comes with having his vulnerabilities on display, hates the words they offer as consolation. But he doesn't hate it for you– the only thing you ever make him feel is warm. So, so warm after a lifetime of cold.

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect– it's the first time you're hugging him. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him.

He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay. 

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go.

“Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms. 

You stay like that for a long time– long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go.

He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized.

The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. Did he deserve to be happy?

He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior. 

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together.

Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night.

Your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured. 

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. Chan's typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do.

Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even.

He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable– he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him. 

“Can you.. send it to me? I– I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took. 

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in. Would you? “You think she’d want it too?” he asked, wondering if Hyunjin could tell how much hope lied in his question.

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.) 

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good. 

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer, allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies.

It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back.

You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed. You were sitting alone on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular. 

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you. 

And really, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you– quite the contrary, actually. He was good– not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration. 

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in.

It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know?

Chan was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that? 

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was– someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way. 

Sometimes you would wonder, though– is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy.

You did your best to ensure he was. You always returned whatever favor he gave you, strived to be a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough.  You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did.

He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him. 

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him.

You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to. You hoped he knew that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, you hoped he knew that you would always listen to him and be there for him. 

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something.

“Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next. 

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were.

So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong. 

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel.

But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.” 

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface.

And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right. 

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one. Or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them anymore. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do.

But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared.

“I– No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you. 

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort.

“I just– you’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission. 

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy. 

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him.

You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket. 

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but– but I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.”

You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple. 

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day?

There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that. You were the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all. 

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream. 

That’s what you were for him– hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper.

All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life. 

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between them; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about, and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan, and anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons. 

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit?

Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional fixer" of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan, or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had.

Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you. 

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were.

No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers. 

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe you simply had no reason to, or you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate.

Whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it. 

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it.

You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name. 

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time– studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you? 

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you.

To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about the shit he's supposed to.  

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you– it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are. 

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him.

In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more were the words his friend spoke. 

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain.

So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do. He treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him. 

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that?

He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day. 

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all. 

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get. 

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does. 

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised. 

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with. 

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it. 

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that from you. But if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you. 

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him. 

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries.

It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun. 

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling as he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head.

You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams.

What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with. 

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.”

You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick Jae's ass if he did anything to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, having fully expected a reaction like that. 

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on.

Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone. Especially not Chan. 

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that?

“He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?” 

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with a hell of a lot of overtime and his friends pitching in, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Cmon, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you. 

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better?

You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.” 

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!” 

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you. 

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? For his brothers, and for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. "Like you said, they'd know it was me if something happens to you. I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.” 

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys, and they’d make him regret it with no hesitation.

But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know. 

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head. 

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently. 

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you. 

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow.

“What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. “Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree.

You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan.

“What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment. 

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands.

He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor.

That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right? 

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw. 

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him.

You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill. 

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything.

“There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined. Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide.

Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created. 

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you.

You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. “Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him.

He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily?

He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that. 

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can.

“Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through jovially on the other end, but he can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it.

He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given. “I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?”

“Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let the others know you'll be out a while, just take care of Y/N.”

“Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you. “Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car too far from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is. 

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times.

You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to– do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out the answer to that question. 

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls onto the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do. 

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his mind over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like?

He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.  

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him. 

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot. 

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good.

You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him.

Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you. 

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this.

You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable.

You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you. 

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours.

It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off entirely. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore. 

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again. 

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now. 

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I–" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it. 

"But I–" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm.

It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again. 

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response.

You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process. 

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context.

And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself. 

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be. 

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words.

When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay. 

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation.

His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other.

But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well.

He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others in the house, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you. 

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well.

Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch. 

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends. 

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before. 

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all.

And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him.

You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count. 

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most.

He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand. 

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault.

“It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother. 

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing? 

Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs. 

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything.

Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing.

Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?” 

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?”

Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing. 

“Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. “What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone.

“She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst.

He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment as he stares at Chan.

He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why he wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out? 

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying. 

You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with frustration. 

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful..

She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.  

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room.

“You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t.

He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed. 

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try.

And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson. 

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life.

At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you. 

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space.

You felt like you would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart.

You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them.

Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known.

Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state.

If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe.

They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place.

But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with.

And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest. 

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan.

You used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades. 

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems.

Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.) 

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan, and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces.

You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening.

The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel. 

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there. And you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.

Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams.

And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right? 

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there. 

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of? 

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you.

If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors. 

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing.

You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that. 

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you. 

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily.

Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes. 

But still, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look.

“So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.” 

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you.

“Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch. 

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan is definitely one of those wrong places.

“It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside. 

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront. 

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day.

He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself?

How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind.

Not to mention that the only ones who knew the full extent of what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. And he would've been okay with anyone else finding out the depths of terrible deeds, anyone of the other people he cared about but you. Just not you, anyone but you.

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy?

Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families.

And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize. He would have absolutely nothing. 

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone.

Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore. 

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it.

And then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had. 

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has. So he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed.

It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy. 

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue.

Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you even more than you thought you needed him. 

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had. 

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself. He needed to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you.

Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket.

He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without any other context spreads worry through him.

And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help. 

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable.

He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you. 

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds.

The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there. 

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in.

“Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. He wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance.

Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you. 

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you.

You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away. 

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it.

All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different. 

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should.

Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here.

You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant.

You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered.

So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was. 

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on.

Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan. 

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile.

You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given. 

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; you see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact.

He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe.

"You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. "Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his.

The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but you surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs. 

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand.

“I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened. 

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know– you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side.

He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and handing it carefully to you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed.

You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done.

“Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I– I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology.

He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. "It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you.

"It's not okay, I– I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I–''

You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?" 

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment.

"Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you. 

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was.

You want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you can. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you. 

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high– or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns? 

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad.

Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was– I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..” 

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes continues to chip at his walls. He almost can't take the way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him.

It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless.

He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again. 

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me."

"When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but couldn't get their own hands dirty to get, and they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge. 

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected– that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs. It was a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him. 

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done.

It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, nor would you tell anyone affected by his actions that they should. But you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles of that weighed him down, both physically and mentally. 

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before– it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry.

No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow. 

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry– they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy.

To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does. 

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. A promise that you’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most.

“I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you. 

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself. 

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but– I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically?

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous.

God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. “You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close.

You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for. 

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again. 

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again. 

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one– a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel.

You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. “Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed.

“Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was approaching summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed. 

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you.

“I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it.

He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt. 

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold.

“Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. “Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm.

“I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice– he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake. 

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know too, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close.

“I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.” 

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all.

Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon– he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts!

And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it? 

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you.

He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much.

You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you– all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else.

Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party– he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone. 

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized.

He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself. That alone made him perfect to you. 

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past.

He made substantially less money now, but it was a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made going forward was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own. 

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him– what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar; one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken, and not built on solid enough ground. 

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just..

When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely. 

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest. 

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special. 

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel. 

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process. 

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully.

Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation.

He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy!

Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast.

And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck– oh, it was over for you. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you– you wanted him. 

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan.

But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush; and while it was certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan. 

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you.

When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room. And still, the question was weighing on you– does he want you? Will you be able to tell him that you'd been giving having sex with him a lot of thought?

And then you walked into the room after finishing changing, and saw that he planned on only sleeping in some sweatpants, you internally lost your mind. No way would you be able to sleep if he was next to you looking that good and while your mind was plagued with less than innocent thoughts.

So when the lights were off, and you were laid next to him, you conjured all your bravery to speak your mind. “Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention.

“Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“W-What? I-I– well–” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” you mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection. 

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him?

“O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately. 

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers.

“I– y-yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness– he needs to see you.

You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll– I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know.

He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.

The kiss is slow– much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist. 

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay. But to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs. 

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over.

You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip– he loves it all. 

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips.

Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already. You’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel– you’re forever his angel.

Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck.

Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot. 

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor.

You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are– the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment. 

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest. 

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention.

The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good.

He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs. 

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body.

You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off.

It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing. 

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet. 

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him– God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven. 

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans.

Chan picks up the pace when he finds what you like, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit. He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer.

Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He directs all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue. 

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release.

You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss. 

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state.

“Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now. “I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words.

“Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds.

You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie–” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry. 

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft. 

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip– how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once? 

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him, and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you. 

But first, he needs to prep you well– so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make. 

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans.

You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips. 

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably.

Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest– in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you. He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god–” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you.

You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean. 

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?”

“Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed.

Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face. 

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt.

“Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers. 

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation. 

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise.

He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him. 

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down, even if you wanted to. 

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop. 

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts.

The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and tying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you.

You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes. 

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace.

Your legs are a bit wobbly, so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower. He takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite the aches.

He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have. 

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for. 

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying.

And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of– a life he promises to always share with you.

[the-badger-mole]

On the Unredeemed

Unredeemed villains are important in fiction. I feel like that needs to be said. There is a trend in recent years (probably since Wicked became a hit) of people wanting to see monsters redeemed. I'm not against that (per-se... glowers in Maleficent), but also, I feel like we do lose something when we lean into the idea that the monster gets to make good.

Fiction can be really useful for teaching us about life. I remember seeing a quote some time ago on Pinterest or something that said something along the lines of "fairytales are important not because they tell us dragons are real, but because they tell us that dragons can be slayed". That has been on my mind a lot recently when I see discussions about characters like Azula and (more recently) Ozai. They are fictional characters with super magic fire powers, but they represent something real- they represent the cycle of abuse in families, and while I understand the impulse to absolve someone as young as Azula, I think it's also important to tell the story where she isn't redeemed.

One reason that most Azula redemption stories bother me is because of the responsibility they tend to place on Zuko as her older brother, despite the fact that she victimized him probably more than anyone in her life (that we get to see. I don't think her soldiers believed her death threat for no reason). There are plenty of stories about the victims of abuse needing to be the bigger person to keep their families together and being villainized when they don't (I think by now we all understand that Terri was not the villain of Soul Food). We need stories about knowing when it's okay to walk away, and that illustrate the idea that "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".

In a time when more people are talking openly about going low contact or completely cutting off family members- close family members- I personally think that seeing stories about coming out of the other side of it, of building a new family, healing from the past, and dealing with the residual guilt that comes with "turning your back on family" even when it's the right call, is helpful in the same way that those fairytales about slayable dragons are.

I'm not saying any of this to discourage Azula redemption stories. In fact I would love to see more. Stories that have Azula confronting what she did to the people she should have loved most, and have her considering what to do with the knowledge going forward, instead of just using her past abuse and mental health to gloss over the real harm she did. I want to see her grappling to accept the fact that no one- not her brother, not Iroh, not her friends- owes her forgiveness, and then dealing with all the complex emotions that come with just one of them actually forgiving her. But also, I want to see stories where Zuko gets to let go of his father and sister and go on to be supported in that decision. Because to him, they were dragons, and they were slain.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Prompt with “whumpee that completely disregards their own mental and physical health and whumper who starts off as a caretaker but because of their own emotional trauma they like how vulnerable whumpee can be when they’re exhausted so then whumpee gets trapped in a toxic relationship with whumper and gets emotionally/physically/mentally abused”

tw: mention of abuse, violence, blood (everything in this is fictional and is a writing prompt for writers. I do not condone or romanticize something like this in real life in any way)

when whumper and caretaker are the same character!!!

the depth and complexity of a character who can be both whumper and caretaker will always fascinate me, and I have such respect and admiration for writers who write and explore this type of character.

yes, I personally am more drawn towards character who is both whumper and caretaker. because sometimes it’s the grey area that is the most fun playing in.

sure, whumper who is an outright villain, and caretaker — who is a different character — who is gentle and soft are classic and all, and I get why people like how simple they are. but for me, I’d like my whumper and caretaker to be the same person 😮‍💨😉

caretaker didn’t mean to hurt whumpee, obviously, but the sight of whumpee bleeding and bruising, the sound of whumpee crying and whimpering, and the coppery smell of blood in the room? there always was a predator within caretaker, and right now caretaker feared that it was winning.

also the guilt and the shame caretaker felt after they lost themself and hurt whumpee. the confusion caretaker felt because why, why must they hurt and ruin everything they love? everything they touch.

caretaker / whumper is not a monster, but they too were fighting their own trauma and demons — and sometimes the trauma and the demons won, and the one paying the price was whumpee.

needless to say, whumpee was terrified of caretaker, but at the same time they knew caretaker was the only one protecting them, the only one keeping them safe.

of course, caretaker did not enjoy hurting whumpee. they hated that they couldn’t always overpower the demons within them.

both caretaker and whumpee were struggling.

the angst, the whump, the confusion, the struggle, the betrayal, the blood, the pain and the comfort that comes after? the feels!!!!!!

there’s a reason this right here is one of my all time favorite tropes to write.

[licncourt]

hi!!! i'm new to tvc and your blog so im not sure if this has been done yet but :'D i just wanted to ask your thoughts on akasha, even generally speaking? thanks!

Welcome!!! I have lots of thoughts on Akasha, but mainly I think her existence tells us a lot about the author and provides a lot of context for how AR approaches female characters in the series overall. I think Akasha, Claudia, and Gabrielle are a very succinct look at how Anne viewed women and the archetypes she felt existed within womanhood. Akasha is really the final boss of anti-feminist strawmen, written to be the ultimate evil and Bad Woman, but she just kind of ends up being an almost-compelling female character instead.

I think Gabrielle has strong elements of that, but the fact that she was so heavily inspired by AR's mother softens the narrative to her some despite the bitterness there. Akasha is something else though, and the narrative on a meta level does not seem to feel sympathy for her.

AR obviously had a very complicated relationship with her own womanhood and a virtually unshakable "not like other girls" mentality her entire life. It was some truly breathtaking internalized misogyny or maybe even a case of gender dysphoria that turned toxic. I doubt we'll ever know for sure, but that loathing she seemed to feel towards womanhood is very much on display in QotD.

Looking at the book as a female reader, I can't help but feel sorry for Akasha on some fundamental level despite the absolute evil she also commits. She was a queen, but doomed to be subservient to her husband on the basis of gender. Then, through some incredible accident, she's suddenly the most powerful human being there's even been, only to then be tortured and spend thousands of years internally conscious but unable to move, speak, or do anything at all.

It's almost an Eve story, a woman who is designed to be a man's inferior who instead seized knowledge and power (and the narrative), gained autonomy from and influence over her male counterpart, and then was punished for it by the larger forces at play. In some ways she reminds me of Claudia too, driven insane by her circumstances and unable to comprehend her own monstrosity, but she's also more evil than Claudia was ever capable of being due to her age (torturing and ordering the rape of of Maharet and Mekare, forcibly turning Khayman, etc).

If Anne had left it at that and changed her goals to be less grandiose, I think her character would have read better and been a more complex and convincing villain in the evil-but-a-victim-of-circumstance way that so many VC vampires are. That's one of my favorite things about the original VC vampires that was present in Akasha but not executed with quite enough finesse. Instead, I think Anne takes it way too far into cartoonish hatred for feminist stereotypes.

For most authors I wouldn't feel confident saying that was the intention but AR, if nothing else, aggressively involves her personal feelings and beliefs in her work, often to the detriment of the story. VC is just the fictionalized inside of her head and we know that. Combined with her other female characters and her own public statements, it's hard not to eye roll at the climax of QotD when Akasha decides she's going to kill 90% of human men and turn the Earth into a new Eden with her as the goddess for the human women (and male human chattel).

In that sense of her character, it seems like foreshadowing to Blood Canticle Lestat reprimanding the audience directly, just Anne finding something to be irrationally angry about and writing it into her book. I've said before that QotD is a step below IWTV and TVL because the cracks in her writing really start to drag the book down like they would for the rest of the series to a rather extreme degree. Knowing this was her last book with an editor, I'm curious how much of the overall readability of the book can be attributed to that/how far gone Anne already was at this point.

In spite of all that, it is kind of fun to go balls to the wall and take a Hell Yeah Get Them mentality when Akasha goes scorched earth because despite it all, it's sort of cathartic to watch a overpowered female vampire go on the warpath and scream all the deepest frustrations with patriarchy that many women struggle with. At the same time, it's hard to fully enjoy it knowing authorial intent (and reading it all within the context of the sexual violence Akasha perpetrated with Anne's usual lack of nuance). That's kind of par for the course though, most things in VC are Almost Good and that's what keeps us on the hook.

[doctorofmagic]

What's next?

Blood Hunt is over and, as ever, I feel compelled to share my thoughts and expectations/predictions. And make it double because you know this post will be longer since we're talking about my favorite doctors, and that means apologies in advance ~

As already mentioned before, Stephen's suspicion was debated whether Victor was the one pulling the strings behind the event or not. And I suppose it isn't necessarily true at this point. I see Victor (at least, the current characterization of his entire persona) as one of the smartest opportunists in the Marvel universe. Tracing back a couple of years to his latest appearances, it happened a few times: he took part of Dormammu's power when he teamed up with the Guardians of the Galaxy and the X-Men; he created his own team of mutants, using it to create connections and collect debts, as well as stealing a seed of Krakoa; despite being a flashback, he used Eddie and his symbiote to study immortality in order to save his mother and also obtain the Darkhold, among many other schemes. He is, after all, a villain, and seeks power and control, although his motivations are unique to his character, which means he will do as he pleases.

In other words, Victor is complex. His ego and pride exceeds every hero's and villain's in this fictional universe, meaning that, despite his alliances, he will betray his partners if the opportunity arises. Go ahead and ask Namor. It's part of their dynamics.

(Fantastic Four v1 #6)

And yet, no matter how many times, his frenemies will always end up meeting with him once more, especially when it comes to save the world from bigger threats.

(Avengers/X-Men: AXIS #8)

In short, he's always eager to betray his allies but has a very strict code and takes an incredible amount of pride when it comes to his word. It's very contradictory of him, but it's part of his complexity. Take a look, for instance, in these following panels: he makes an alliance with Eddie, betrays him by stealing his symbiote and, when defeated, stays his hand and doesn't send his arm after Eddie.

(Venom: Lethal Protector II #4-5)

With all that in mind, my intent here boils down to what happened in Blood Hunt and the relationship he shares with Stephen.

(Blood Hunt #5)

First of all, Victor doesn't consider this a betrayal. Stephen used his words poorly, and an opportunity emerged. It IS convenient, it IS shady, and he is aware of that. But that's what Doom does.

Secondly, Victor wouldn't mind betraying Stephen if he didn't respect him. Why am I saying that? Because he has done it before to several allies, as I just discussed. And he doesn't care. But this isn't some random guy who only had something he wanted. This is the man who went to literal hell with him in order to save his beloved mother. They fought as much as they teamed up. Victor saved and took Stephen's life in different moments.

There's this gray area of respect that was totally exploited and taken advantadge of. And of course it was, Victor is an antagonist. It's the drama sauce being cooked here.

But that doesn't mean that this is the end. And here comes an important part -- whether you consider it biased or not by own my interpretations: what comes next?

I don't believe for a second that we're getting a new Secret Wars or a new portrayal of a tyrant. As I stated before, Victor craves acknowledgment, which comes as his need to rule and control things his way. This is why he declared himself the true savior of the planet.

(Blood Hunt #5)

Having the mantle is an accomplishment to his status of power. Or so he thinks. What he doesn't know is the pain and loneliness Stephen has been through by carrying this duty. It's not a blessing, it's a burden.

(What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme)

I believe this is the point of having Doom as the Sorcerer Supreme. It's a mantle every magic user craves, but no one is truly aware of what it means. And Victor is about to find out.

As for Stephen, I've collected all the sneak peeks from Doctor Strange #18 that Pasqual posted on ig (here). And he's really depressed for losing the mantle, just as I suspected. In here, we see that he's reminiscing the moment he gave Victor a piece of his soul.

I strongly believe this will play an important part in the story. Because Jed's Stephen carries such a compassionate soul filled with overwhelming altruism and love. Yes, there's a piece missing in Stephen's soul, but what that piece will do in a heart of iron like Victor's?

See where I'm going with this...?

This is what I have in mind, of course. And, unfortunately, it really depends on the next writer. Some of them really enjoy Victor's shallow villainous side. But if we get someone who sees through Doom's layers, we're really walking towards to an interesting reading. Which means we can expect anything at this point, from Secret Wars level of tyranny, leading the sorcerers to retrieve the mantle, to a wholesome character development that will shift the scales of their relationship.

Lastly, before I conclude this post, I just want to touch some points regarding technicalities. In my opinion, I don't believe Jed was forced to conclude his Doctor Strange run(s) because of MCU!synergy. I'm not saying there isn't synergy at play here, but Jed has been hitting Doom since Strange v3, way before this year's announcement. He IS the one who wrote Blood Hunt, after all. Still, I'm really saddened that he's concluding his trilogy. No one has ever shown such a level of passion towards Stephen and Clea like he did. And I was really blessed to witness it all from the very beginning. I don't know what's coming next for Stephen, but I'm pretty sure he will not be disappear completely. Sided? Unfortunately, yes. It's Doom's time to have the spotlight. But definitely not completely gone.

With that in mind, I'm aware that this conclusion caused discomfort and mistrust in the fandom. It's hard for me to love these two characters who are intertwined in a frenemies relationship and not feel excited about it. But I hear you. I see them both with depth and love them even in their flaws. And I hope that the next story will highlight these aspects. I can always be wrong. But if I can offer just a little of comfort, I will always try.

This isn't a goodbye. We still have the last DS issue. That one will be harder. But we've been through so much worse, right? No matter what, this Sanctum will always be open.

[bobbydagen24]

yes JD and Bruce are abusive and Bro zone are Toxic overall and its worrying to me how some in the fandom either can't see this or actively choose to ignore it.

( I Guess this is my return to Trolls fandom posting tho I won't be Doing it as Regularly as I used to )

for starters people seem to write off the argument scene as if its somehow JD and Bruce behaving out of character or its understandable and morally complex when it really isn't

they knew this was a source of pain for Branch ( them being absent for a most of his life since he was upset with both of them when they first met up again )

but they Decided to mock and belittle him for wanting them to be a family again

completely unprovoked since Branch didn't even say anything to them that could possibly trigger such a cruel response such as if he had lashed out in anger

which would have been understandable given he didn't even want anything from his Brothers at the start but Jd and Bruce basically emotionally lured him back in via love bombing

aka acting overly chummy with him and basically ignoring any actual more serous emotions such as Bruce just ignoring Branch's valid feelings of upset towards him

and then wanting to Dump him at the first sign of inconvenience and cruelly emotionally abusing him when he didn't just quietly accept what they wanted

like this is textbook abusive behaviour if you see someone behaving like this its a red flag and its worrying how the fandom ignores this.

simply because Jd and Bruce have surface level likable personalities again something most abusers have as it makes them seem very trust worthy

I said before in another post that the fandom Judges Bro zone on a surface level and this is what I meant as they look at the two or 3? scenes

of them acting like nice people and just Decided that's who they were even tho in said scenes they only acted Decent when literally everything was going their way

as soon as JD and Bruce faced any kind of problem they acted badly which is far more likely to be their true colours because you Really see someone for who they truly are in these kinds of moments

same with Crimp literally standing by and keeping quiet over kidnapping and torture simply because she didn't want to have the inconvenience of finding a new Job.

its strange to me how people write this off as not being the real them when its how they behave for most of the movie and they act in ways that show it

you can be as condescending as you like such as other Bro zone Defenders have been to me in the past by saying stuff like

"" your blatantly missing the point of the character ""

but truth is that isn't valid because Guess what? just because the writers want you to see a character one way does not mean that is who the character they put into their work actually is

we have to judge the characters based on the content we have of them in the work of fiction not what the writers intended them to be

because those two things don't always match up a writer could try and write a certain character as being sympathetic or a good person at heart

but if the content in their own story does not back that up its no one's fault but the writers it isn't the fault of the audience for calling them out on writing shitty people and not Realising it.

and writing a message that amounts to Blood entitling people to Treat you badly and abandon you and not give a shit about you for years on end like Bruce and Clay and Floyd did

( which shows that their care towards Branch and each other is very surface level when they were willing to Drop each other so quickly both in past and present day and only acted nice to each other when it was convenient and easy )

yet its on you to "" fix "" them and forgive them because lord knows they won't be the ones to put in the effort and change and admit to any wrongdoing

like for as much as the fandom complained about Creek's return in TBGO which yes was Rushed as Hell at least he actually admitted to wrong doing and apologised

something Bro zone never did besides Clay but even that was a weak sounding apology that didn't even sound very emotional or sincere tbh.

people complained about Creek's lack of Remorse yet Bro zone show a lack of remorse throughout except for literally one brief animation panel which the fandom loves to go crazy over because its literally the only thing you have that indicates any regret

but it comes after Branch finally stands up to them and leaves so 1. he never sees any remorse or acknowledgment of wrongdoing from his "" Brothers "" yet he still gives them another chance

and 2. it lasts like 1 minute and it comes after they were literally emotionally tearing him down for no bloody reason so that alone should not be enough for the fandom

it Really is the equivalent to your partner getting angry and hitting you and then feigning a little bit of remorse after you threaten to leave them

and later on you give them another chance because they promise to change while never actually admitting to doing anything wrong and of course the cycle repeats.

which I kinda suspect is what the writers are Hoping for because this movie's message Honestly feels like it was written by an abuser

who feels their victim should have to make the effort and put up with whatever shit they throw at them and give them unlimited second chances

no matter how many times they Hurt them.

to be clear I don't actually have a problem with all people who simply like Bro zone's characters my problem is

there's a stark Difference between liking say a morally Grey Douchbag character

and liking a character who is a bad person and making excuses for them plenty of people like characters like Joe Goldberg or Walter White

but there's a difference between fans who enjoy them because they are complex and enjoyable Villains and bad people vs fans who feel like they are actually great people deep down

and thus attempt to justify every single one of their actions and behaviours because otherwise they'd feel bad for enjoying their characters.

those are the Bro zone fans who Bother me and who I feel aren't taking away very Healthy messages from this movie

because they are not good people they are not a good family and you can still enjoy a character who is a bad person but it is not okay to try and justify every single one of their actions

and make stuff up in order to make out like they were actually good people or they were actually bigger victims than they really were or that their actions are somehow complex when they really aren't

Hence why the fandom does so much art portraying them as loving and caring because the actual movie itself sure didn't do that.

and why so many fans make stuff up in order to portray JD and Bruce as secretly being more caring for Branch or more sympathetic in the Grander story when they Really aren't

in short I'm worried about the message this movie is sending out to people about personal Relationships and how they seem to be taking it to Heart

people are not perfect but there is a stark Difference between someone not being perfect and someone showing a lack of care or Regard for you your whole life

and showing no basic Respect for your feelings as a person and mistreating you by weaponizing one of your greatest Trauma's simply because they are slightly annoyed by you

that is not excusable behaviour that is Toxic this movie and Bro zone's Defenders do not understand the Difference and it worries me

and it worries me how a real life child who is in a bad family situation may see this movie and Relate it to their own experiences thinking their neglectful or abusive family

may not be perfect but its on them to forgive them and keep shoving second chances on them because they "" aren't perfect ""

but them showing you the Bare minimum of affection every now and then must mean that they really care about you and you have to stand by them.

just like Branch did with his family this movie's message is not only Toxic its irresponsible for a movie viewed by many young children to put out there.

that's why I'm so against this movie and its message and think it needs to be called out more

it isn't just down to me simply disliking it because I didn't enjoy certain aspects its because I legit think this movie could be Harmful to kids in real life

if they take the message on Board it worries me.

anyway this most likely this won't be fixed by a future film the next movie will probably do what Despicable me 4 did with Dru and just not feature them for the whole film

and have them as a quick cameo at the very end and Honestly its probably for the best Bro zone had potential but the writers messed up badly

and created a terrible family who mistreat each other and only show surface level care when its convenient and the writers Genuinely Don't Realise it

and their fans don't care because JD and Bruce act like silly fun guys so they could literally do anything and the fans would still like them and Defend them.

but being likable does not equal being a good person tho and someone showing you tiny scraps of care and affection every now and then

but most of the time mistreating you or not even giving a shit about your very existence does not mean they are a good family member to you

people Deserve better Bro zone Defenders please Realise this otherwise you will end up in a bad Toxic Relationship which no one Deserves.

[naturegirl555]

Ranting about supernatural because I hate this show so so much (I’m so so obsessed with it to the point where it’s concerning) and I’m on season 6 episode 20 “the man who would be king” and can I just say how incredibly annoying the boys are! Like can you maybe hear cas out maybe! His reasons for doing these things aren’t malicious or demonic. He is fighting a war in heaven which they couldn’t give to shits about and now they are gonna be mad because he was MANIPULATED by crowley (I love the man but still) like can they use their brains for one moment. And I feel this may come off like I hate Sam and dean and I do not in any way they are very complex characters with trauma and trust issues but cas has done everything for them. He was trying to save them. He didn’t know the outcome. Like Sam and dean have never made a mistake before. Because I remember a couple seasons ago where Sam was going crazy gorging on demon blood because he thought he could do good with that power! So why be so hypocritical and get mad at cas in the way they did. And can we just talk about how broken cas looked when they trapped him in the holy fire! Like Sam said to him did you bring me back without a soul on purpose and his eyes god! Like in what world would castiel who saved you both from hell do that purposely! It was already hard enough to save dean it was a group project in a way he didn’t have help with Sam! And cas is also doing all of this because he thinks its what god wants. He is so blinded by his faith again because he got brought back to life. He had the idea that he was brought back for this reason and chuck did absolutely nothing because all he wants is drama and trauma for the collective and not caring about how his kids feel! Castiels faith breaks my heart because no one could understand it. Dean couldn’t and Sam couldn’t. Castiel has been an angel since the beginning it’s not so easy to give up everything you’ve ever known even when you know that it might not be the right thing. Was it easy for dean to see his father the way everyone else saw John. No. So why can’t it be difficult for cas. They truly never give cas a break. And yes I’m a major destiel shipper. But the way dean acts towards cas sometimes makes me so enraged. But this “breakup” dean looked heartbroken. Castiel had lied to him. Him of all people. The man who he had a profound bond with. He just wanted cas to ask for help and cas didn’t because he doesn’t do that. He’s never been not capable before things have never been this difficult for him before. And when you look at what castiel did there was truly nothing wrong with it. He was blinded and manipulated and he didn’t want all of the shit they endured to stop the apocalypse to be for nothing. He didn’t go to dean because he saw dean living a normal life he saw him getting out and he wanted to respect that. How could castiel have known dean wasn’t happy in that life. Castiel isn’t very good with human emotions and his thinking is very black and white while the winchesters have shades of gray thinking. So how is it fair to blame cas for all of it. I’m sorry about this rant i just feel so much about this! Like castiel is my favorite fictional character of all time and I wish I could’ve teleported into the show and been his lawyer because no one would listen to him no one ever does. I love all of them very very much but it would be dumb to think castiel doesn’t deserve better. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk about castiel. It may happen again

[sehtoast]

How are you able to like Homelander and not condone his actions at the same time, without feeling crappy? This sounds accusing but I’m asking bc I’m struggling with it. I know ppl who do the same with characters, but I’ve had an unwelcome fixation on him come out of nowhere and I feel sick and guilty bc I feel like everyone will think I’m some kind of freak or something. I’m very much anti-sa and other gross stuff esp as a victim but I still feel like I’m being hypocritical or something. I’m sorry for the weird message but I feel like I’m losing my mind

The short answer is that he’s fictional.  Think of… I dunno, an antagonist in media of a different form (let’s go with anime).  I was a naruto kid growing up, so let’s use Orochimaru for an example.  My guy was on some fuck shit through the entire show. Snatching bodies, murkin’ Hokages, wild experiments, all that shit with Sasuke, and so on.  People still liked him regardless because he was a cool character despite the bad things he’s done.  Some people may have even found him relatable in certain ways.  I feel like it’s the same concept here.

You don’t have to feel bad about enjoying fictional characters, no matter how awful they may be.  At the end of the day, they’re fictional and their actions have harmed nobody in real life.  Their actions may mirror that which does harm real people, but they themselves have not dealt real harm to real people.  Enjoying them does not mean you condone their actions.

I’m also extremely anti-SA, and am a victim of it myself, but I still find a lot of love and appreciation for Homelander’s character– but this isn’t hypocritical.  My love for him doesn’t come from the fact he has perpetrated that act, nor should it come from that.  I love him as a character with the bottom line that he is… extremely complex.  

I’ve said it for years now, but I think Homelander is a compelling tale of the dangers of commodifying the human soul.  He is an example of how awful someone can turn out if you deprive them of humanity with the goal of creating a product.  People are not products, we are not a means to an end, and we certainly should never be treated that way. He was, and this is how he turned out.  He’s a take on the cyclical nature of trauma in a lot of really interesting ways as well.

I find him relatable from a standpoint of my own traumas and being transgender.  Episode four of s4 revealed that I have a jarring amount of trauma that mirrors his own to some capacity.  I’ve always suspected these things, and I’ve had headcanons since the first season, and having them confirmed reminded me just how much I’ve latched onto this character because of it.  Homelander experienced some degree of sexual abuse in the labs– and I wager there may have been worse than simply being called ‘squirt.’ Homelander was subjected to physical torture and locked in a room where his mind slowly fractured, all while being conditioned to never seek escape otherwise he’d be too devastated from disappointing the scientists or losing their ‘love.’ 

I have experienced SA, I was locked in my room with nothing as punishment (my 'bad room'), had very little privacy and next to no access to boundaries as a kid, I was put through physical pain very often by a sibling (my furnace), I was reared and conditioned to have a fear of disappointing others so severe it made my blood pressure drop into the danger zone a couple times as a kid– and still has similar effects as an adult.  I’d literally pass out, have panic/anxiety attacks, vomit, etc.  I also know what it’s like, as a trans man, to have been raised and reared for a life that was designed for me, but was not me.  I was lucky enough to find my way to the person I needed to be; Homelander has not and likely will not ever be able to do so.  In all of the aforementioned, I have a lot of empathy and compassion for him that combines with my fascination with his complexity.  There were a lot of things in my life that should have pushed me down the road to be an awful person, much like the things in his life did. But I had a handful of people to guide me toward better things.  He didn’t.

But I see myself in there nonetheless. Homelander was the first time I ever saw so much of my own trauma on display in a single character.  I’d love to hug the man and tell him he’s enough, show him the humanity he was and continues to be denied, and so on.  When I realized that means that I would, in turn, do that for myself if I only viewed myself through a lens that wasn’t my own, my life changed.  This character changed my life.  I know I thirst-post about him a lot, but my love for Homie runs a lot deeper than just finding him attractive, you feel?

A fictional character doesn’t have to be one of moral high ground or superiority for it to be okay for you to enjoy them.  You can enjoy characters who commit horrible acts. This does not make you someone who condones horrible acts.  I was initially pretty embarrassed to admit I like Homelander as much as I do, but I slowly realized that it does not make me a bad person and it should never be used as a gauge to find out how ‘moral’ someone is or not.  People like Hannibal Lecter, people like Thomas Hewitt, Joffrey, Albert Wesker, Cletus Kasady– any number of fictional characters who have an ugly record or have done horrific things.  We do not assume someone is evil because they like Hannibal, nor should we do the same for people who like Homelander.

At the end of the day, do what makes you happy. If exploring Homie is something you would have fun with, do it! Engage in media, learn tales of caution and tragedy– stories make us human.  You are not inhuman for enjoying Homelander and his tale.  In fact, I would argue you are very human because of it.

[chryza]

Presidential debate SICK ASS REACTIONS.

“The microphones will only be turned on during their turn to speak” thank the lord they finally learned

“VP Harris you and President Trump (sic.) were elected four years ago” I hope to god that it was a slip and not an omen.

Harris coming right out and attacking project 2025 is pretty pog anyway I hope she kills him. I’m still skeptical about her in a lot of ways and I’m not a fan of the continuing imperialist military industrial complex ie genocide. but fuck me she’s not a raving lunatic or a decrepit dude with dementia so like. Fuck man I’ll take it.

he keeps saying “as she knows” to try and ruin her credibility which might be effective if he didn’t immediately then verbally veer off the road and crash into a tree

WHY DID THEY TURN HIS MICROPHONE ON. THEY SHOULD HAVE JUST LET HIM FUCKING TALK TO AN EMPTY STUDIO IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO FUNNY.

I hope Kamala kills him. I’m obsessed with the way she keeps laughing at him. KILL HIM.

“She’s a marxist” this is the only time in my life I wish trump was right I fucking wish Kamala Harris was that cool.

[on abortion] “When the baby is born they will decide what to do with the baby and they will EXECUTE the baby” i don’t even have a quip to add the quote speaks for itself

Live Kamala Reaction your opponent just said Tim Walz wants to “Execute Babies”

The MODERATOR being like “there is no state where it’s legal to kill a baby after it’s born” is KILLING ME

Harris does sound legitimately incensed about abortion rights which is a massive W for her, I fully believe she would crack down on restrictions to women’s healthcare

Harris “I invite you to attend one of trump’s rallies and what you’ll hear is him talking about fictional characters like Hannibal Lector, how windmills cause cancer, and you’ll see people leaving early out of exhaustion and boredom” YES. BLOOD. BLOOD.

SHE KNEW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WAS DOING HE IS NOW SOOOO MAD SHE IMPLIED PEOPLE WERE BORED OF HIM AAAAAAHAHAHA I AM MAKING TRIXIE MATTEL SEAGULL NOISES RN

Shown: watching Trump take the bait hook line and sinker

My mom sent me memes so I knew about this beforehand but

“THEYRE EATING THE PETS OF THE PEOPLE OF OUR COUNTRY”

*further trixie bird noises*

[Harris] “This is why I have the endorsement of former Vice President Dick Cheney” that’s NOT A GOOD THINGGGGG I don’t know if it’s like trying to be bipartisan but girl this is NOT the way

I need them to stop turning on Trumps microphone. Just leave it off

I TOOK A BULLET TO THE HEAD BECAUSE OF THEM

KAMALA I SUPPORT FRACKING HARRIS EVERYONE

WHAT ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT ANYMOREEEE THIS IS SUCH A SHITSHOW

“Strength as a leader is not about beating people down it’s about lifting people up” Bold words from a woman who is actively delighting in mocking her opponent, to be clear I think it is an objectively good thing, I simply think this is a hilarious thing to say ten minutes post Live Kamala Reaction

“NOW SHE WANTS TO DO TRANSGENDER OPERATIONS ON ILLEGAL ALIENS IN PRISON”

Most of what trump says is just bloviating nonsense but I am noticing that Kamala Harris is very good at making her words sound nice while not actually saying much of substance. This is not a specific indictment against her because it’s a very Politician thing, but she isn’t actually saying much here.

[moderator] So do you acknowledge now that you lost the 2020 election

[trump] No it was obviously sarcasm

[moderator] I did watch all of the videos where you said that and I didn’t detect the sarcasm.

Trump, on Biden: I’ll let you in on a little secret, [Biden] hates her *pointing to Harris*

Okay so Harris is a proponent of a two-state solution for Israel and Palestine and is opposed to civilian mass-murder. I don’t even know how to begin to touch that with a ten foot pole and the whole situation feels so confusing to me in general. Overall she seems Anti-Civilians-Being-Slaughtered in the name of self-defense but then in the same breath assures that Israel needs support to defend itself from Iran so. Wow sounds like a whole mess of colonization practices that have deliberately destabilized a region that can’t easily be nuanced in a single answer

[Trump] “If she becomes President Israel won’t exist within two years” God I wish Harris was half as cool as he makes her out to be.

“I WOULD GET [PUTIN AND ZELENSKY] ON THE PHONE AND GET THE WHOLE THING SETTLED.”

Kamala Harris PUTIN WOULD EAT TRUMP FOR LUNCH put that on a check and take it to the bank I love national television

I love Harris essentially dishing the hot goss on Trump negotiating with the Taliban. Is this the platform to do it? No. But this is practically kayfabe at this point anyway. Do I even care

What a shitshow. Harris has zero high horse here, she refused to answer basic questions about position in an attempt to remain bipartisan, Trump endlessly blathered about nonsense. Kamala Harris won the debate, but to be frank, trump could lose to a mildly literate dog.

[accio-victuuri]

Exclusive丨What kind of story is "Zanghai Zhuan" telling?

As soon as the news that "The Legend of the Hidden Sea" was about to start filming came out, overwhelming rumors swept across the world. It was true or false, and it was just a blur.

Information about the casting, story, formation of the behind-the-scenes production team, etc. have become hot topics among netizens, which has also pushed "Zanghai Zhuan", which has not yet started production, to the forefront. But at the same time, such high attention also shows that the audience is looking forward to it.

What kind of work is "Zanghai Zhuan"? What kind of story is being told? What is his style like? Why choose Xiao Zhan? What new insights will Director Zheng Xiaolong gain when he returns to the creation of costume dramas? With these questions, Entertainment Management Studio contacted the person in charge of the show and learned about the behind-the-scenes story of the show.

Create an independent and complete original script

As one of the producers and producers of the show, Chunyu Film and Television has been involved in this project for more than two years. In the early stages of script creation, Chunyu Film and Television reached a consensus with Quantum Pan Entertainment ( one of the producers ) - "Zanghai Zhuan a" will be an independent original story, and we strive to create a brand new series.

This series will kick off with the personal growth of the male protagonist Zang Hai.

"Zanghai Zhuan" tells the story of Zhinu, the son of Zheng Kuaiduo, the Imperial Supervisor of the Great Yong Kingdom. His whole family was wiped out overnight. Bearing a blood feud, he returned to the capital ten years later under the pseudonym Zanghai. With the help of the construction techniques and manipulation techniques he has learned for many years , all the way to wisdom and treachery, and finally the injustice was avenged.

This is a period drama with revenge as the main line. The character of the male protagonist Zanghai is a contradictory and complex complex. On the surface, he is calm and calm, proficient in the art of manipulation, good at scheming people's hearts, and sworn in with his enemies; but deep down, he has not given up the pursuit of justice and truth, and has never lost his good nature.

During the script creation process, the screenwriter will send the script to the director every once in a while. The director will also give very detailed opinions. These opinions are not just about raising problems, but also down to solutions. He focuses on the polishing of each scene and strives to make every scene more exciting while maintaining its excitement.

Chief director Zheng Xiaolong and director Cao Yiwen's requirements for the overall temperament of the play are - although the background of the era is fictional, they should avoid characters using the language and thinking of modern people, and at the same time, the audience should not find the lines obscure and difficult to understand.

A costume romance drama with a realist core

If we want to give "Zanghai Zhuan" a clear classification in terms of subject matter, it should be a costume legendary drama, striving to present an artistic expression that coexists with refreshing feeling and depth.

Zanghai experienced the pain of annihilation of his family when he was young. Later, he learned the art of Kanyu and the art of annihilation from his master. As an adult, he became a strategist and devoted himself to finding the truth of the year and avenging his family. This was his first and only goal. But in this process, he will also have changes and struggles, as well as inner entanglements and conflicts.

On the road to revenge, he had the guidance of his masters and met his childhood friends again. Zanghai felt the warmth and beauty in life besides revenge, and experienced some precious emotions in life that he had never experienced before. Should he do it for Will these melt away the hatred sealed in my heart? When borrowing the hands of others to seek revenge, will Zanghai feel guilty for those who were taken advantage of?

Judging from the above-mentioned general story line, "Zanghai Zhuan" is not only a "legendary drama with a male protagonist", but also displays and discusses complex human nature.

"Zanghai Zhuan" also has very strict requirements in terms of styling, art, props, etiquette, etc. All staff members submitted proposals and went through layers of screening before finally joining the crew. In the early preparation process, historical consultants and etiquette directors have already started working. They will feedback some problems in the script at any time, and will also make reasonable suggestions on art, modeling and other related plans.

It can be as small as how to design the cloud patterns on an official uniform, what style the official uniforms and official hats are, or as big as whether the buildings and props made by comparing ancient paintings are in line with the characteristics of the historical dynasty they are referring to. Directors will all work with related creations. The team held in-depth discussions and strived to have evidence and history to rely on.

Zheng Xiaolong’s team has not been involved in costume themes for many years, but this track is not unfamiliar to them. In the creation of "Zanghai Zhuan" this time, the directing team adheres to their consistent creative concepts, adheres to the realistic creative method, and uses realistic techniques to strive to make the story and characters solid, and these are the characteristics of any project that Chunyu Film and Television does. the rules.

Casting Tips

The casting of "Zanghai Zhuan" was brainstormed in the early stages, but the final choice was made by the directors. Every confirmed actor is the one that everyone thinks is most suitable for the role.

In several early meetings, the directors believed that Xiao Zhan's image and temperament were very suitable for the role of Zanghai. They had a lot of discussions with Xiao Zhan about the story and characters, and Xiao Zhan also put forward many of his own ideas and questions. According to the producer, Xiao Zhan is always very detailed when discussing the story of the script. When talking about a certain scene in the script, he will express a lot of his understanding of the content.

For him, although "Zanghai Zhuan" is a costume drama, the creative direction and performance method are completely different from the previous works he has participated in, so it is also a new challenge.

Simply put, from the perspective of the plot, it is a costume legendary drama about the growth of the male protagonist; and from the perspective of the core setting, the protagonist faces the contradiction and struggle between the fate of his family and country and his personal emotions, and faces the "ego". We will wait and see what choice he will make in the end.

article source

[saintsenara]

What do you like about Voldemort/Tom Riddle as a character? What elements of the character do you find fascinating?

thank you so much for this ask, @sarafina-sincerity

i have received a flurry of asks about my main boy, lord voldemort, which form a neat triad, so this is part one of a three part meta on him:

1. what is interesting about voldemort's role in the series? 2. how do i write voldemort in my own work, and why? [here] 3. what does dumbledore get wrong about voldemort? [here]

so here we go!

what is interesting about voldemort's role in the series?

let's dive in under the cut:

my general principle as a reader, both in fanfiction and original fiction, is that villains are more interesting than heroes.

i prefer the complexity of characters the audience isn't supposed to root for, and i enjoy the confrontation of realising that people who are capable of astonishing brutality and evil are also simultaneously capable of beauty.

[one of the most heart-breaking passages in literature, in my opinion, is humbert humbert’s final encounter with lolita, in which the reader is forced to sit with the fact that a violent, sadistic, and dangerous paedophile is also a creature hollowed by grief and loss, and that they feel nauseatingly sorry for him.]

the canonical voldemort’s complexity in these aspects isn’t entirely drawn out in the narrative - although voldemort’s own struggle with anger, grief, and loss is discussed in detail in the third part of this series of meta - but thinking of him in these terms provides something that i think is of considerable value to me as an author.

as might be hinted at by the nabokov, my favourite subgenre of original fiction is undoubtedly the american literature of the mid-twentieth century, for its portrayal of the sinister ennui which lurks under the quaint picture-postcard of the american dream life. the authors i feel speak most profoundly to this apart from nabokov are shirley jackson and - and i recommend this enormously not as pulp fiction but as a sincerely raw look at the america of the 1940s and 1950s - jacqueline susann’s valley of the dolls. voldemort has a lot in common with jackson and susann’s famous anti-heroines - he has the jealous, isolated relationship with family and lineage of merricat blackwood; and the childhood trauma leading to obsession, manipulation, and greed of neely o’hara.

all of which is to say, he's a character whose complexity can be used to challenge the reader, to force them to have to sit uncomfortably with their own views and biases [the fact that he’s a self-hating sectarian terrorist has always hit me like a body-blow, given that i live in northern ireland…], and to provide a window into the broader commentary on the world of the story [and the world of the author].

voldemort as a narrative tool

indeed, voldemort is the character who most interestingly straddles the harry potter series’ various different genres and their subtypes - no mean feat, given that the difficulty of reconciling these separate genres is what drives many fans’ complaints about plot-holes in the series.

after all, the series literally wouldn’t function as children’s literature without him - in the first two books, he provides that scooby-doo villain-turns-up-in-disguise-at-the-end flavour which drives the narrative and allows harry to conform to his own children’s lit archetype of the wise-cracking everyman hero who's constantly getting into wacky mysteries.

but voldemort is, of course, at his most interesting after the books undergo their tonal shift following the conclusion of prisoner of azkaban:

he's the series’ most significant and most complex character within the genre conventions it borrows from noir and political thrillers. in goblet of fire, we get the hint of him as a paramilitary kingpin, whose supporters wished to incite terror among any members of the wizarding population who didn't support blood-supremacy and who targeted state institutions and political figureheads who stood in their way. voldemort’s own hypocrisy - he's a supposed pureblood champion despite not being pureblood himself, although his anti-muggle views are undoubtedly sincere - serves as a concentrated metaphor for the ministry’s corruption, which harry uncovers throughout this book.

he's the series’ most interesting folkloric archetype - the fate-driven hunter-villain, whose belief in the mystical value of the prophecy [within a series in which all the other characters - except harry, who we’ll come to below - are surprisingly rational... for people who can do magic] drives the series towards its conclusion. it's impossible for harry to go on his hero’s journey without voldemort - and given that many of the other characters fit more obliquely into their folkloric archetypes [ron is very different from many folkloric sidekicks - the boy is no samwise gamgee - and hermione’s folkloric archetype is closest to the non-human gift given to the hero by a donor-figure], this aspect of the narrative depends on voldemort entirely.

he is, perhaps, one of the less interesting characters within the series’ purpose as christian allegory [the award for the character this applies to most interestingly, for me at least, is either dumbledore - the word of god revealed in a twist to be the john the baptist - or snape - the paul who thinks he’s a judas], since he's the satan allegory. the catholic-coded nature of many of his behaviours, however, does fascinate me, and contribute to my headcanon - discussed in the next meta - that he's raised in a church orphanage.

and voldemort's usefulness within these narrative confines changes many of the other characters, in ways which move them beyond genre archetypes which might otherwise not allow them to grow as the narrative tonally shifts [a fate which befalls hagrid, who cannot stand up to the nuancing of harry’s character as he goes on his hero’s journey]. dumbledore’s similarities to voldemort, for example, hint at the reversal of his omniscience and infallibility before deathly hallows hits; snape’s relationship with voldemort as a terrorist leader, and particularly what voldemort’s terror says about the social structure of the wizarding world, provides an explanation for his actions which is more complex than "tee hee, mudblood", and which gives the reader a space to think about how deprivation drives radicalisation in our own communities.

above all, voldemort’s narrative relationship with harry is fascinating - and not simply for shipping reasons - since, within a story which ends with harry in the guise of the resurrected christ and voldemort-as-satan dead and buried, they are never actually portrayed as black-and-white enemies. indeed, they're the only pair of narrative mirrors in the series whose relationship is portrayed not as diametric, but relational - the only two whose relationship is described as fraternal [something made explicit in their "brother" wand cores]; and the only two whose relationship is described - by a figure no less powerful than the prophecy itself - as equal.

that their shared backgrounds, their views of their own orphanhood, their relationship with their fathers, and their physical appearances are similar is lampshaded by several characters - not least both of them themselves. but the narrative actually goes deeper, drawing out ways in which their differences appear stark, but then loop back to become another similarity they share - their mothers come from opposing blood classes, but both form the key to understanding their characters; their wand woods are both associated with death and resurrection, albeit with different folkloric values of luck and purity attached to them; and voldemort is the series’ "true slytherin" and harry the series’ "true gryffindor", but they both have numerous personality traits connected to the other house.

in contrast, if we take the narrative mirrors of ron and draco malfoy, we find a pairing whose differences stem from similar attitudes and insecurities, but manifest themselves in ways which are polar - both serve the crucial narrative purpose of explaining the wizarding world to harry and, therefore, the reader, but ron exclusively shows its positive aspects and malfoy its more negative ones; their material circumstances are opposites; they both heavily physically resemble the rest of their family, but ron is one of many siblings and strains against that and malfoy is an only child and strains against that; and they are defined in the text by the diametrically opposed nature of their relationship with harry.

harry and voldemort, on the other hand, are defined by the divergence of their similarities - like their wands, they have the same core, but their choices affect them profoundly - and they are, therefore, the series’ clearest examples of the value of choice.

voldemort as a social mirror

i also think that voldemort’s childhood and background is one of the series’ most interesting looks at britain and its social dynamics, which i think many readers miss.

how i prefer to write voldemort’s childhood is discussed in the second part of this series of meta, but he provides - like hermione - a look at the profound irony of the class system [after all he's an aristocrat in both worlds - and an example of both types of aristocrat, the rich and snooty in their luxury manor and the impoverished clinging to a name and a lineage - who has no access to the social advantages this should bring because he was born in an orphanage in the muggle world and he has a muggle name and face in the wizarding one].

above all, voldemort spends the first six books of the series as the best cipher for how state brutality and corruption only begets more violence. his unusual tolerance of non-human magical creatures is at odds with the ministry’s benign oppression. his rejection of the patronage networks which sustain wizarding society [he rejects slughorn’s offer to set him up in the ministry because he wants a job he got himself, and good for him] only serves to emphasise that these still exist [the fact that voldemort would not want to rely on patronage canonically never occurs to dumbledore] - while his use of patronage networks for his own ends shows how easily structures considered to be "right" or "normal" can turn malign. his brilliance, but the fact that his name and background would clearly constrain him in an ordinary career, underlines the fate which befalls many characters, from snape to the weasleys. he has a complex relationship with gender in a series which otherwise doesn’t. the ministry’s reaction to him - particularly the suspension of due process in the trials of death eaters [a reference to operation demetrius, one of the british government’s most degrading extra-judicial decisions during the troubles] - deepens anti-government resentment, which - since the wizarding world is clearly not a democracy - has nowhere else to go but revolution.

voldemort causes himself, obviously, but the ministry enables him to exist, and this provides so many avenues in fanfiction to explore.

why we need fanon voldemort

this said, there are things which frustrate me about the canonical voldemort - and this drives many of the traits in my own writing of him which i'm completely aware do deviate from canon [my preferred characterisation of voldemort is addressed in the second part of this series of meta].

i dislike the portrayal of the canonical voldemort - or, at least, the canonical adult voldemort, the canonical teenage voldemort is more layered - as a sociopath, largely because i think it’s quite lazy writing to have a villain whose evil is caused by a [very rare] disorder, which is widely considered to be untreatable. in particular, this absolves the reader from noticing our own similarities to voldemort and considering how that challenges our own views and biases - as the enormous amount of "the class system is good, actually" in death-eater-centric writing shows...

above all, i loathe the argument that voldemort can’t feel love [i'm hopelessly wedded to the idea that he does love bellatrix, in his own little way], not least because it's an extremely cruel interpretation of what is clearly enormous childhood trauma [although the series’ weaknesses in its approach to that topic go far beyond voldemort], and because it fails to open space for a critical look at dumbledore’s own idea of love - that is, not as something which can be luxurious, pampering, and restorative to the self, but as something which depends on sorrow and sacrifice. i detest the fanon - which, i think it’s important to note, is based in something jkr never actually said - that voldemort’s conception is the cause of his attitude to love. i also think the way the text treats both tom riddle sr. - who is never acknowledged as a rape victim - and merope - who, if we take dumbledore’s implication that she could have survived voldemort’s birth at face value, directly justifies voldemort’s view on death by not bothering to stay alive for him - is horrifying.

i think the voldemort of deathly hallows is the weakest, not least because the fact that he's never shown in the previous six books to have an interest in running a government [he spends most of the early books as a paramilitary leader, not a dictator in waiting] means that he has to be shunted off in other directions when he takes control of one. 

and, with the greatest of respect to the wonderful ralph fiennes, who i’ve just paid a huge amount of money to go see in macbeth, the film version of voldemort is terrible. indeed, film!voldemort is the source of so many of the worst fanon readings of the character - especially the idea that he only knows one spell, that he’s insane [the statement of canon is that the creation of the horcruxes does nothing to damage his mental capacity, since the soul exists independently of our free will and rational thought], that he loves to shriek, that he isn’t very scary, and that he doesn’t come spectacularly close to winning.

up next, then, how do i write voldemort?

[averyaddamsromance]

Ok, Hunter in the pool was supposed to get your attention X_D sorry!

The last few days may have been somehow tough for our wyler community. Shippers and their ships could be the core of fandoms, and I am really sorry that in 2023 someone still doesn't get the lesson…anyway…

I decided to make a post sharing some of the fan-fictions which made the last 2 days brighter after knowing that Jenna Ortega is killing the romance in Wednesday- which I repeat, is not bad for Wyler since we couldn't get any romance in s2 anyway as you can read in my previous post. I just hope this is not going to affect the unresolved sexual tension between Tyler and Wednesday. I am curious to see if views won't drop without that. Because audience is fickle and untamable: dear Jenna, today they are clapping when you say "no romance" then in 2 years (when we will be even farther from the effects of covid 19 on people's emotional life) will start complaining about the lack of intensity in the series. For me, this is a challenge and I am curious to see who's right here.

We are forced to accept the decision to castrate Wednesday Addams, dark and sarcastic woman, yes, but still daughter of one of the most passionate couples (Morticia and Gomez Addams). How is possible that to prove women's independence and strength in 2023 we still have to castrate them? Did men do anything like this since the beginning of civilization? Wouldn't be great to affirm our sexuality together with indipendence and strenght? Is it so dangerous for a woman to get an orgasm thanks to a man, really?

Anyway, now back to fanfic:

ALL IT TOOK WAS YOUR SPARK by @wincestation

For me this is royal blood among the fan-fictions I read, latest chapter was out just a few hours before or after (don't remember) the interview Jenna did at The Tonight Show.

It's impossible to describe how much I love this fanfic- and how much I laugh when I read it. Wincestation has established herself as one of the best wylers writers already. She is building an AU and her Tyler and Wednesday can actually challenge in terms of quality the original characters of the series.

Wincestation, I am one of your cheerleaders.

YOU ARE STILL A TRAITOR by @suchaladyy

Another gem I read immediately after Jenna's interview and I loved the warm feeling left in my heart -I really needed it.

Suchalady is producing fanfictions at an impressive speed and her +18 explicit collections is for true connoisseurs. And I won't even bother to hide that after Jenna's attempt to castrate Wednesday I feel even more sadistic pleasure to read explicit +18 fanfictions where she is completely unleashed by Tyler -sorry Hunter, you find yourself in the middle of a war.

I AM TYLER, BY THE WAY by Kiranightshade @therulerofallpotatos

Gosh how I loved this piece! And I am seconding all the comments asking for the sequel! But I know that Kira is working on another more complex fanfic, so I patiently wait here.

+18 EXPLICIT that as I already said I am enjoying even more after Jenna's interview, as useless absolutely pointless personal vendetta.

BUT IT'S NOT REAL (AND YOU DON'T EXIST) by @the-strangest-person

WOW. I am new to Stranger Person'fanfic but this one hit me really hard.

There's some drama but I am pretty sure that if those poor screenwriters (Wednesday's ones) were allowed to write their own thing we would have gotten something similar.

ROUGH DAY by @realmermaid333

Realmermaid333 won't disappoint you, ever. I loved this explicit fanfic! It was fresh air, really hot but somehow sweet (Tyler can't disappoint you either) as only realmermaid can be.

THE WOES OF SELF DISCOVERY by SwedishlittleOwl @fandom-geek17

So damn hot, I started to read it and then I was like "noooooo it's not completeeee" I need others chapters! I am so curious to know what's gonna happen!

[bewareofdeaddove]

hello! since this is a discourse blog, introducing myself isn't a priority, but i'll do it anyway.

you can call me whatever name you want on this blog. i'm a minor. i use it/its pronouns. i will provide tw tags simply: no "tw" or "cw", just, for example, "blood" or "queerphobia". please block tags you're uncomfortable with!

i have no dni; i believe in fostering open and good faith discussion on this blog, as that's the point of making it! telling me to kill myself will get you blocked.

as a quick tl;dr before i conveniently list out some of my opinions: i am against harrassment and censorship, and i don't care what people decide to write fanfiction about or draw.

i am wholly against any form of harrassment. this includes calling people pedos for fictional ships, telling people to kill themselves, and anything else. if you really hate someone's posts, complain in private with your friends like everyone else does, don't harrass people.

i am wholly against censorship. media, no matter how bad or "irredeemable", always has a right to exist. all art has inherent value.

i don't judge people's morals over fictional content. as long as whatever you're posting is tagged properly and can be blocked if neccessary, it's not my business.

fiction and reality are not equal, but do have some effect on each other. i, of course, have issues with trends in media that, for example, downplay abuse and sexualize/"adult-ify" teenagers, but fanfiction is, like, the very end of that chain. it doesn't affect anyone. because of that, i don't care about it.

i don't care what you make if it doesn't hurt anyone, but being a bigot in your fiction does hurt people. the way people behave towards fictional characters, i.e. racist comments towards characters of color, can still be bigoted. it doesn't hurt the characters (obviously) but it does hurt real people, and that's where i draw the line.

i only have an issue with fanworks when they begin to perpetuate actual, real-life bigotry. this leads into my next point...

what are your personal limits regarding fiction?

aren't you basically pro-ship, then? well, yeah, i guess. i don't identify with the pro-ship label for many reasons, though. most of all, though, i don't want people to put words in my mouth; i have no desire to be called a pedophile because of the pro-ship label. i have no desire to have people assume that i want terrible things to happen in real life over internet discourse. i will never tolerate these accusations, and i don't use the label in order to avoid the possibility. you can call me whatever you want, though.

i don't particularly like anti-shippers. this is mostly from experience. i have been deeply entrenched in anti-ship communities, and i have come to only think one thing of them: the people themselves have good intentions, but the mindsets they foster are incredibly harmful. i'm open to discussion about this.

i avoid anti-shippers because of their tendency to harrass people, also. like... big tendency. community-built-on-the-idea level tendency. pro-shippers also harrass people, which is another reason i choose not to label myself as one. this i know from experience.

as a general rule, i am uncomfortable with:

shipcest

minor/adult ships

lolisho content (i have complex feelings on it, but i'm just uncomfortable with it as a whole and ask that it not be brought up with me)

rpf, but i only draw a hard line at rpf of minors and generally tolerate everything else, however begrudgingly.

i am fine with:

aging up underage fictional characters

selfcest (although i usually call it selfslash for comfort)

"rpf" of fictionalized versions of real-life people, like idk, hamilton characters.

just about anything else, honestly. we'll see about specifics.

in addition, my boundaries for this blog are as follows:

i will not respond to anon hate, including anything with death threats or anything accusing me of, like, being a pedo.

i will try not to reblog from people who have neutrals in their dni (as that's what i consider myself), but i don't really check dni pages, so i might make mistakes in that regard.

i will not reveal personal information about myself to justify my opinions.