#i don't understand why people think this way! the law is whatever the judge says it is. legal loopholes matter in narrow circumstances

[girderednerve]

the theory of law that says it matters a lot what the particular text of a given policy says, what loopholes the specific language might leave, &c., is best described as "LSAT prep" or perhaps "wishful thinking." the actual practice of the law is not a rhetorical exercise, it is a power negotiation; these executive orders are written to signal clear intention to judges & create chilling effects for people who are bound by the law but not empowered to interpret it. the viciously transmisogynist executive order signed yesterday says "at conception" because it's a popular phrase among people who oppose abortion, & the violent repression directed at trans women is connected directly to all other attempts to subjugate women as a class, not least by suspending safe, legal access to reproductive care

[daretoassume]

a law is a law

despite how simple the law is, i still hear people saying that it doesn't work for them. but it is a law—it works whether you like it or not, whether you believe in it or don't. so, if you are aware of the law and believe in it, why are you still thinking it won't work for you, when your entire life operates under this law? it's just that you unconsciously use it in ways that don't serve you. now, you are aware, and you can turn everything around.

“you cannot assume you have your desire for one little moment and then return to your former state, for if you do you are a double-minded man. i say to everyone: you can be anything you want to be, but you cannot be double-minded." ♱ the creator, neville goddard

you cannot expect miracles, opportunities, or good news if you complain every day of your life.

you cannot expect to get a job if, deep down, you believe you are unworthy of having a job.

you cannot expect people to love you if you have always believed you are unlovable and unworthy of love.

this is simply how the law operates. whether the law feels challenging or straightforward makes no difference—it operates regardless.

if you complain each day of your life, even if you don't say it internally but feel as though you have never been blessed, that you don't deserve love, or that it is difficult to achieve certain things, then how can you react to your physical reality as if you didn't create all of it in the first place?

are you fully aware of the law, yet still letting your current reality dictate how you feel? understand that your physical reality may show little to no difference from the past because the real shift begins internally. once you shift your mind, perception, and behavior toward the idea, you will no longer give it much emphasis.

and that is you telling your physical reality that it doesn’t matter, because you know you have changed internally. it is simply a matter of time until you experience a new reality that matches your new state.

the law doesn't judge or take sides but instead reflects whatever state you consistently occupy.

[bemusedlybespectacled]

I don't understand the chevron law thing, could you explain it like I'm five? Should we be working towards fixing whatever the courts just fucked up?

So, okay, I am condensing like a semester of a class I took in 2017 into a very short explanation, but:

It would be really annoying for Congress to individually pass laws approving every new medicine or listing out every single poison you can't have in tap water, so instead there are agencies created by Congress, via a law, to handle a specific thing. The agencies are created by Congress but overseen by the executive branch (so, the president), which is why we say things like "Reagan's EPA" or "Biden's DOJ" - even though Congress creates them, the president determines how they do the thing Congress wants them to do, by passing regulations like "you can't dump cyanide in the local swimming pool" and "no, you can't dump strychnine, either."

However, sometimes people will oppose these regulations by saying that the agency is going beyond the task they were given by Congress. "The Clean Air Act only bans 'pollutants,' and nowhere in the law does it say that 'pollutants' includes arsenic! You're going beyond your mandate!" To which the experts at the EPA would be like, "We, the experts at the EPA, have decided arsenic is a pollutant." On the flip side, the EPA could be like, "We, the experts at the EPA, have decided that arsenic isn't a pollutant," and people would oppose that regulation by being like, "But the Clean Air Act bans 'pollutants,' and it's insane to say that arsenic isn't a pollutant!" So whose interpretation is correct, the government's or the challengers'?

Chevron deference basically put heavy weight onto how the agency (i.e. the government) interpreted the law, with the assumption that the agency was in the right and needing pretty strong evidence that they were interpreting it wrong (like, blatantly doing the opposite of a clear part of the law or something). If there was any ambiguity in how the law was written, you'd defer to the agency's interpretation, even if that interpretation was different depending on who was president at the time.

(Note: there are other ways of challenging regulations other than this one, like saying that they were promulgated in a way that is "arbitrary and capricious" – basically, not backed by any evidence/reasoning other than "we want it." Lots of Trump-era regulations got smacked with this one, though I think they'd be better at it if Trump gets a second term, since they've now had practice.)

Chevron deference wasn't all good – remember that the sword cuts both ways, including when dickholes are in power – but it was a very standard part of the law. Like, any opposition to a regulation would have some citation to be like "Chevron doesn't apply here" and every defense would be like "Chevron absolutely applies here" and most of the time, the agency would win. Like, it was a fundamental aspect of law since the 80s.

The Supreme Court decision basically tosses that out, and says, "In a situation where the law is ambiguous, the court decides what it means." That's not completely insane – interpreting law is a thing judges normally do – but in a situation where the interpretation may hinge on something very complicated outside of the judge's wheelhouse, you now cannot be like, "Your Honor, I promise you that the experts at NOAA know a lot about the weather and made this decision for a good reason."

The main reason it's a problem is that it allows judges to override agencies' judgements about what you should do about a thing and what things you should be working on in the first place. However, I don't think there's really a way of enshrining that into law, outside of maybe adding something to the Administrative Procedure Act, and that would require a Congress that isn't majority Republican.

I will say that kind of I expected this to happen, just because IIRC Gorsuch in particular hates Chevron deference. IMO it's a classic case of "rules for me but not for thee" – Scalia and other conservatives used to rely on Chevron because they wanted their presidents to hold a ton of unchecked power (except for the EPA), but now that we've had Obama and Biden, now conservatives don't like Chevron because it gives the presidents they don't like unchecked power.

[avelera]

Was thinking about how Hob and Dream could both be insufferable in some way because, in fairness, Hob comes across as someone who could make friends with bread if left in a room with it long enough.

Then I had a thought:

What if Hob Gadling is just super fucking insufferable to other immortals?

See, Dream is... difficult for mortals to get because he's got his whole eldritch thing going on. But while he's not particularly popular with them, I imagine other immortals at least get and respect his whole deal. Like, he's the Dreamlord. Of course he's weird. But they understand the laws and principles he's referring to at least when he's being weird. He seems to at least have a pleasant relationship with the Faerie Court. It's mortals who can't really connect with Dream and find him exasperating as a result.

Whereas Hob gets along great with mortals, just swell. He's Just A Guy who happens to live forever and people get along with him. But immortals? We don't really see it much but immortals positively loathe this guy.

Dream's reaction to the whole, "I've made up my mind, I've decided not to die!"? Hob tossed out in 1389? That's the teeth-grinding level of irritation Hob engenders in every immortal he comes across (before they have centuries to get to know him) and it is exactly why Death just had to make this man immortal because it would be hilarious.

Why doesn't Hob hang out with other immortals besides Dream? Because the minute he opens his mouth about how great life is and how he's never had even a moment's doubt about how much he wants to live, every immortal in the room starts to make the gagging motion.

You're an immortal just trying to have a bit of a kvetch about Kids These Days and how much times have changed and how it was better in your day, and there's Hob fucking Gadling again ready to throw down about how amazing antibiotics and automobiles and the latest iPhone number whatever are and like, sure, but you were just trying to say back in your day things were better, right? Not objectively maybe but you're just trying to indulge in a bit of immortal nostalgia and Hob fucking Gadling is not having any of it and is ready to argue you into the dirt about it.

You're immortal but haven't quite kept up on today's slang? Hob Gadling will absolutely call you out and he's a teacher now so he's going to be super nice about it but you know he's judging you for saying groovy unironically and thinks you should get with the times already.

You're a vampire living off centuries of generational wealth? Hob keeps talking about how you should get a job and get out of the spooky mansion more, and maybe you wouldn't feel so much existential angst. You like your existential angst!

Hob doesn't have a single ounce of patience for immortals who want to wax poetic about wishing they were mortal again. Diseases, he says, have you ever had diseases? Like even a cold? It sucks. It really fucking sucks. The Plague? The fucking worst. You don't need to be mortal to get involved in mortal life, Hob fucking Gadling keeps pointing out at the monthly eldritch coffee meetups. You can just live as a mortal and share in their problems and enjoy the fact you don't have to deal with the shit parts like getting sick. Completely missing the point of the futile lamentation of regretting one's lost mortality is something you enjoy.

Hob harshes the vibe of every single immortal out there. They are so goddamn sick of him. There's a reason he has no apparent immortal friends or connections to the supernatural world despite (in the comics) seeming to have met other immortals and having the occasional supernatural encounter that he immediately brushes off as dull when compared to what the normal, every day world has to offer.

No other immortal can fucking figure out what Dream of the Endless sees in this guy, and how he can stand to talk to him even once a century without storming off (which, in fairness, Dream has done on 2/7 occasions). Dream, not otherwise known for his patience, is seen as a saint in the eldritch community for even spending as much time as he has over the course of 600+ years with Hob fucking Gadling.

[sinofwriting]

Your Sweets and Daniel make my feelings all mushy. Like they’re the cutest.

What’s was the other drivers’ reactions to them dating?

I know they don’t wanna care but at the same time I feel like Sweets could feel a bit more worried maybe, especially after maybe PR trying to tell Daniel that people are questioning character or something. But we know Daniel for the wiiin he would never allow Sweets to try and push him away…at least I don’t think? I’m not entirely sure how you plan on writing them 🖤

I had to do so much thinking about this ask and I apologize for such a long wait.

So from the first part, where Sweets and Daniel reveal that they're together, we already know (or i already know) that a few drivers have known that they are together. (Putting the rest under read more)

The drivers that found out before the reveal are: Max, Charles, Lando, Sebastian, and Lance.

Lance finds out from Scotty and his sister. More so Scotty, because he couldn't shut his mouth about how his sister in law was going to be a singer. Lance doesn't have much of a reaction, a little how the fuck did you manage that? But is whatever.

Sebastian is the first driver Daniel tells. Daniel had been in a serious relationship or two before this, but nothing like what him and Sweets have, which is forever. So he goes to the one guy he knows understands what forever is in a relationship. Sebastian doesn't mind the relationship (is a little flattered that Daniel came to him about it), but does hope that they both know what they're doing.

Lando, Max and Charles, find out about them around the four month mark.

Lando is a bit jealous, he's got a bit of a sharing problem, but he also never says it outloud but he thinks the two are crazy for how serious they're treating the relationship.

Charles loves it, and he's happy that Daniel trusts him with this, considering they had some rocky moments. He also is the first driver to become friends with Sweets and is the only one to view himself as more of her friend than Daniel's by the time they reveal their relationship to everyone else.

Max is wary. He's seen Daniel in a few relationships. Seen the way Daniel has loved but never really put everything into it and Max doesn't know how to feel/think with how Daniel is putting his all into this one. After meeting Sweets though (and Max refuses to think about their first meeting more than he ever has too), Max realizes why Daniel has put is all into this relationship and likes Sweets, thinks she's a good fit for Daniel.

Okay, now onto to drivers who found out when everyone else did by reaction.

Thought it was cool/great: Mick, Pierre, George, Yuki, Nico, Fernando, Alex, Logan

Didn't care (aka no reaction): Kevin, Carlos, Nyck, Zhou, Valtteri, Checo, Oscar

Judgement: Esteban, Lewis

Sidenote: Logan and Sweets in this vaguely know each other, so Logan was stoked when he found out.

Now about Esteban and Lewis, because I don't want to get flamed. Esteban is judging her heavily here, because he once tried hitting on her at a party (she has no recollection of this) and she just stonewalled him.

Lewis is judging both of them, but he also judges all of the drivers and their girlfriends. He is still in his hoe era and thinks that getting into a serious relationship while still being on the grid is a bit stupid and will backfire on you. He was a bit whatever about it until finding out that they got together while Daniel was at McLaren, and then the judgement came in. He also is the only one that has a problem with age difference, he'll never say anything, but he's a firm believer that age differences like that are meant for one night stands/situationships, not an actual relationship.

You also mentioned PR and let me tell you, her PR not so happy, not because of the relationship itself, but more because they act like teenagers who aren't in the spotlight when they are one not teenagers and two very much in the spotlight.

Red Bull on the other hand fucking loves it. People having an issue with an age difference means nothing to them (ie: max and kelly) also dealing with Sweets and Daniels online antics is easier than the occasional shitstorm certain people cause for them.

This was so fun to think and write about.

Explore the listen, please verse here

[celaenaeiln]

I don't wanna complain about what other people love to them but I ended up reading New Order yesterday after seeing your recommendations and... Honestly, I didn't vibe with it and I wanted to see what you think? The entire premise seems flawed to use Dick of all people for (and his attitude through it is just... way beyond regular asshole Grayson), I'm tired of DC giving Kory children but taking her away from them, yet another "let's ruin Dick and Kory" adventure is going on and it's just... Rushed. Especially the ending where it pulls a teen movie that's like "DAVE ENDED UP MAJORING IN LAW AFTER HIGH SCHOOL AND BECAME A JUDGE" and seems to just skip over so, so much interesting stuff that way.

HOWEVER. I also want to say I can't entirely hate the comic because the dialogue is pretty solid at most points and Jake really is an amazing character with such a great heart. I honestly like him more than Jon Kent.

Valid!

Honestly I really loved the comic but a couple points you brought up are hitting me hard. The first being Kori. It's getting on my nerves how DC for some reason keeps breaking up Dick and Kori after they've been married and for what? I get why here but in Mar'i's comic? There's literally no reason!!

Secondly I don't believe Kori would just abandon her kid. She gave birth to him, she loves him. Why on earth would she just leave him? Maybe it's because it's DC and they really need to break up Dick and Kori because "dick and barbara are the dream team." Puh-lease.

However I did think it made sense for Dick to be at the center of it all. Dick has always been accepting of superpowers and he even said "I like a woman who break a battleship with her bare hands" when talking about Kori. Which says a lot about what he thinks. But I also believe he would he would eradicate them for one reason - superpowers killed Bruce. And he loves his father.

He also did it to save the world and it's unarguable that he did and the people loved him for it. He has the capability to both destroy the league and rebuild the world and this comic is just proving that which is why I don't think there's anything wrong with Dick.

As for his stubbornness, maybe! Honestly at this point I'll accept anything about any character unless it's wildly inaccurate. I don't know if Dick is a jerk or not because my impression of his jerk levels have been obliterated by the Cassandra Batgirl comics. After reading that literally everything else seems normal. I am struggling so hard to understand what's going on with Dick in those comics. Is it bad writing? Is it the writer? What was he facing during that time that made his act like that? What am I missing? I'm still reeling from that so I'm completely out of it lol. Still too flabbergasted to comprehend so you may be right but my mind has just accepted almost every version of Dick now as long as he stays true to his motivations and acts reasonably.

I really did like the ending but totally understand what you mean. I guess it's because the author didn't want to drag it out and turn it into a whole 500 issue comic so he skipped to the end.

I love, love, LOVE the comic for Jake! Jake and Dick's relationship?? I-I'm ENTHUSED!!! They have the best father and son relationship ever and I'm never getting over the two of them. I like him better than Jon too and Jon's amazing! Jake's just absolutely fantastic!! The best, best, BEST kid ever.

So generally I love the comic but my biggest point of contention is separating Dick and Kori for no reason. Also whatever's going on with Kate was far more distracting than Dick for me lol. But I liked the art and dialogue too and overall I really enjoyed it. Liking comics is just a matter of preference after all ;)

[lacunasbalustrade]

what are your general thoughts on queer(gay n trans n all) people? like you dont seem to be against gay ppl from what i can see but i also see that you've like never really openly said something pro or against trans ppl. sorry if its out of the blue im just curious esp seeing your pov as a religious person who has trans mutuals/follows n all bcuz i (unfortunately) know plenty of christians that know trans people but only tolerate them instead of accepting them (which usually means they misgender/deadname them)

hi! I'm happy to answer your question - it's a bit controversial, though, and a sensitive topic for everyone, so I do ask for your understanding if anything I say happens to offend you.

as a Christian, I believe in the stance the Bible puts forth: that BEING gay is not a life choice, it's an inclination that came forth due to the presence of sin in the world. the continuation, however, of this choice, is a sin.

To quote so no one thinks I'm speaking out of some random, bibically incorrect bigotry, Romans 1: 24 NIV "Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another." ,Romans 1: 26 "Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones." , Romans 1: 27 "In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error."

obviously my faith and beliefs should not be forced on unbelievers. I am not any holier than anyone else because I am straight. I am every bit as sinful because it's impossible to avoid committing sin.

so if I'm going to sum it up, it's best said as: none of my business because Who Am I to tell you how to live, right? you're my friends and 'preaching' isn't actually loving. the best form of loving others as a Christian is to accept them as a person before judging based on whatever life choices they've made or pronouns they call themselves. which brings me into the next part!

theologically, I have to admit I'M NOT VERY SURE about trans people. I genuinely cannot find many sources of literature on the topic. There are intersex people, there are people with gender dysphoria. The Bible doesn't talk much about those, enough to give any real objections anyway. To talk about my beliefs based off the context, if God made you as you are, you shouldn't be trying to change you...is the logic, but again, no reason to force biblical beliefs on unbelievers.

I do disapprove of the extent to which some trans people have taken this schtick. I've seen posts saying 'oh if kids can play soccer and do ballet which messes them up for life, they can also do trans surgeries!' I'm sorry. That just doesn't make sense. WHY would anyone want kids to have permission to do Very Risky Things when they are small enough to not know better or make informed choices? And I also know many posts say that 'common sense', kids aren't gonna do those things till they're old enough to feel like they need to do them....those posters need to remember the last time they regretted doing something as a child. Common sense can't be relied upon in my experience.

Plus, given the kidnapping laws in the U.S which basically allow children to be taken away from their parents if their parents disapprove...lol yeah now make a law where my child can be taken away from me if I'm not in the same fandom as them. It can be hurtful to receive dissent on your life choices, but that don't mean up and leaving is the solution, unless the living situation is physically dangerous in some way or you are an actual adult. Children are not trustworthy indicators of whether or not a parent is problematic. And I'm saying this having had problematic parents myself - sometimes we are part of the problem. And if it's difficult, you should still try not to give up on them.

This might be the most important part: I'm wondering whether the gender stereotypes placed on girls and boys are the markers trans people want to overcome. Because from what I've researched, there are two different camps. 1: people who admit that they are biologically whatever sex they were born, and just enjoy dressing like and passing for the other sex because it makes them more comfortable. 2: people who actually believe they are the other sex because they feel that way and they are only effectively realizing that change to their 'authentic' self by transitioning.

I don't believe in gender stereotyping. Like, girls wear skirts boys wear pants. Boys can't wear pink etc etc. So the concept of a trans woman thinking they are a woman because they enjoy the markers attached to being a woman, like, for example, having long hair and wearing skirts, makes me really uncomfortable. Because that's not the whole experience of being a woman. It's only a small part of it, and it's not universal at all. And while no one can claim that ALL woman have experienced a certain set of conditions that make them woman...the only standard for BEING a woman, in my book, is to be a biological one, because it's the only defining trait. When people think of girls, I don't want them to automatically think of girls with skirts and wearing pink. I want them to acknowledge that all girls are different, and the only thing that makes them girls is the gender marker, not their conformance to 'gender norms' that have arisen from societal conditioning.

The idea that someone's feelings can be 'authentically accurate' makes me feel even more....nah. Feelings are valid but if I trusted mine all the time, I'd definitely be all over the place.

To sum it up: no problems with the trans behavior because I'm not into forcing biblical perspectives on y'all. But I definitely have a problem with the idealogy and the legislature.

dead name, misgendering wise...I believe people should be called whatever they want to be called unless it makes the other person uncomfortable. In which case the other person should just stop interacting with them since they're so uncomfortable. (E.g you want me to call you Baby Chicken. For some reason I have a problem with it. Maybe I have a strong fear of chickens.)

Basically I respect your life choices. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk haha.

[simplydnp]

I actually started crying when I read your recent post about unlearning shame. I'm so proud of you and happy that you're doing this 💗 I on the other hand am not as brave and unfortunately still present as a caricature of myself, or just another "cooler"person entirely. I'm in law school and I did fuckin modeling for like 3 years, I did fencing I'm so cool!! Except all those things I'm doing trying to be. Except the sport I actually love fencing. But still these are things that don't always feel authentic to me, sometimes they do - for example I am vain at times so whatever, I like academics and uni in general but don't know if I wanna do anything with law really. We'll see. None of my friends know about some of my real interests or thoughts (I don't think they would judge me I genuinely don't want to ruin my "image" or whatever I've created). Now that I'm typing it, I realize how sad that sounds. Anyway I'm not going to the dnp show, because none of my friends know I like them or would want to go. I don't,have online friends because I'm just a lurker from my carefully curated artsy blog where i dont post dnp lmao. Still, I wish you a great time and thank you for posting that! If I'm more brave in the future, I might go to another tour they might do in a few years

oh anon 🫂 god its brutal out here isn't it

the unfortunate part about all of this is that i Really care how i'm perceived. i'm very careful about how i present myself because i have this fear of being too much. that once people see enough of me, they'll leave. and it'll be my fault. so i simply have to walk that line. the loneliness of no one ever truly knowing. or them finding out too much and being left. because, historically, that's always what's happened.

it's especially hard when you have qualities that you think are neat and fun and special. and yet. you don't get to share them. you don't get to exist as if you are neat and fun and special. instead, you have to live up to this image of yourself that you've created. i've found in a lot of ways it's easier to slide into the mask of only being surface level deep. of molding myself into the 'expectation' laid upon me. goody two shoes. overachiever. loud. but it's just that, a mask. it's not real. but the part that hurts the most is that you keep waiting for someone to notice. and then they don't. and you convince yourself that you're just so good at it. but you can't make yourself the mask. even though i've tried.

you don't have to do law if you don't want to. i know it's easy for me to say, not having put money into a law degree. but i know what it's like to feel like your degree isn't really yours. you've got time. it's okay.

you're not alone in your struggle anon. i think fencing is hella cool and i hope you can find someone who you can chat with about it.

in terms of the shows, i told myself i was going. no matter what. and i knew i'd likely be going on my own. and then some of my lovely mutuals & friends here were like 👀. and i said ykw. fuck it. i have to travel anyway, why not do it across the ocean. and on top of that, some jokes turned real and now i'm going to iceland too. i understand waiting. but i know there's lots of people like you who are going to go to these shows and probably not know anyone. so if it's something you think you can handle, and it's financially possible, maybe think a little about going. i'm not sure when dnp are touring close to you, but you still have time. doing things for yourself is important. i think you'd have a lovely time. (and if you're stressed about the internal perception, no one needs to know you went, and no one there will know you. so it doesn't matter--at least, that's what i usually tell myself. they'll never see you again. so fuck it!)

best of luck, i hope we both can grow and thrive

[fire-but-ashes-too]

"So what do you think about tax evasion, huh? Quite the... curious little thing, I'd say. See, I'm not one to judge people for their troubles with money or the government or... I'll be honest, I don't know why people feel the need to avoid taxes. Is the government that bad? Yes? Ah, that's a shame... Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, so I'm not one to judge people, but it seems a bit... How should I say it... Going overboard? Excess? I believe you youngsters do it simply 'for the memes'. It is certainly strange, I say. Whatever could get them to feel the need to do that? Maybe I am not meant to understand.

"Well, how about those 'fanfictions'? What exactly were they again? And, I must ask purely out of curiosity, how does one find them?"

...as someone who has no idea how taxes work, im just gonna say that of all the crimes possible its one of my least faves cause its just boring

why do that when in england theres a law against unlawful something for walrus/seals??

howeverrrrr

second question here i comeeee

*ahem ahem*

a fanfiction (commonly known as "fanfic") is a piece of media presented in written form (if its art its considered fanart) which uses characters from an already existent form of media (which can be whatever the writer prefers, from real people to books, music, films, videogames etc etc) to create different stories than the one already told by the original creators. it can be found on websites like Archive of Our Own (my beloved <3), wattpad (please dont) and fanfiction dot net, however there are many more (fanfics can be found here on tumblr as well)

my definiton of fanfiction and where to find it! (off topic but its so fun to write in an overly formal way like?? yes sir i shall answer thine question straight away)

[hoper-of-farflung-hopes]

Oh hey, a post I actually meant to put on this blog!

I've been thinking about the relationship between having alterhuman things happening with a character and how I feel about that, versus how other people seem to interact with fiction.

This isn't even necessarily just about being the Doctor, though that's the most obvious way it comes for me.

But I think I just see stories differently from other people? I'm pretty sure it's an autistic thing to some extent, but I know plenty of autistic people who do not seem to do this.

Basically, it's difficult for me to engage with a story without treating it as real on some level. Not in the same way that something in our universe is real - I'm not going around judging people for enjoying fictional villains or anything.

Mostly, it actually causes a problem in the moral grey areas (also probably an autism thing, but.)

Like, if a character is a villain, and people like that character, it's easier for me to understand by default that they don't see the character as meaningfully real and don't see their actions as meaningfully relevant to our world.

But when the character (or organization, or whatever) is a protagonist or generally good, when people talk about them/it in a way that highlights bad qualities and prioritizes them in their reading of the character or group, I tend to by default assume they mean that in the same way you would criticize a person.

Like, if you're criticizing someone or something generally seen as good and talking about how bad they are, I assume the implication is that the person is actually bad, and you should stop interacting with them or supporting them.

But when people do it with fictional characters, it seems to be a sign of affection somehow? Like, people talk about how awful Starfleet is (to use a less personal example, because although Star Trek is a special interest I'm not actually from there) but don't actually mean that people should stop liking characters who are in or who support Starfleet.

Or (to use a more personal example) people seem to enjoy highlighting how pathetic or evil they think I am? Like, why are there so many memes calling me a war criminal/genocidal. Those are bad things! I don't want to be/do those things! It's not normally framed as criticizing specific actions, so much as a general assessment of my character, normally for the purpose of meming, I guess? But I just don't understand the appeal.

(Or, for the record, agree with it - I think it's safe to say we've established by now that I did not actually kill all the Time Lords or all the Daleks, and war criminal isn't really a phrase that has much meaning in the time war, when there weren't really any laws being followed. People didn't avoid using the Moment because it was a crime. They didn't use it because it could judge them and argue with them.)

[the-firebird69]

Trump can oppose releasing evidence in election interference case, judge rules - The Washington Post

https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2024/09/27/trump-dc-trial-immunity-brief-objections/

Ha ha lol hehe

Zues Hera this is a great argument but I really want to see Donald Trump pay me defeated he's supposed to pay his lawyers and take them to court I don't understand what the f*** this butt f****** is doing I was right and they were wrong and I strongly suggested he looked at the idea not to help you sway and stuff really these guys did nothing but put about 50 nails into his own coffin

Tell you talking about you don't want to make the information public it's just no s*** Sherlock something what the hell is this mean the information they have is hard to read hard to understand we interpreted a few different ways and you have a cat litter leaves out to the living room and then goes outside I find in the woods and it comes back it took a poop there that's about the extent of it so I get something it's against the law to release it yeah who the hell is asking for that so anyways You released to the public he says it's causing confusion it makes it difficult and he says no that's not it he said it already it's against the law to release the public and the court is trying to do that someone with the hell is doing it for this is who the hell is that guy this is why what's that matter it makes the information you need admissible to court they have to remove it from the docket because it was released to the public and that's the way it used to be I don't know if there's a new law or maybe a lawyers should go back in time so they can study it again. That was he and she and I'll tell you what that makes sense that if you release it the parents can not be used against you and it's been tainted and it gets more tainted and I wanted it to myself again and I'm incriminating myself I'm looking like a popper because I'm some sort of Street person and it's starting to make sense

Trump

I did look at it and I said if they release it they might think it's true but it's actually kind of difficult to figure out convoluted there's a bunch of parties involved he said it turns into that and you only need like 1/8 of power to make it real confusing or even lead to who the real parties are and I said this why do we do that and I said I don't know but if they release that information the whole court case could be thrown out as well and those things are well known in court it's well known loss that they compromise the case and it causes a mistrial so I was glad you know I'm glad to keep it on track.. he says that he wants to us out of his hair cuz it's dangerous and we like these rogue people and it's really others a lot of times this it's starting to be disgusting and I have to go figure this out why would they even say that and he knows why and we didn't go along with it

Dave

You can personally cause you problems it's like slander it's complicated it's kind of like Nixon but it's not as illegal and it's kind of a convoluted it's like the third time you've done this the case of a Mar-A-Lago you can say this is what we thought it would be because you can say it's going to be more valuable when it's sold stuff like that it's really easy to get away with and people do it everyday and hear it possibly at work and you just keep on nailing yourself and I don't want to hear this anymore about him you're disgustingly stupid take him up there no one's going to let him near her

Tricia

It's kind of funny he says whatever happened to the other act yeah that's what she saying but yeah stupid this guy's right there's like five laws that have made a sweet it and we think that the judge is related and she said then fry yourself you idiot it was so sick of this s*** he's loud farts from him and he's a baby can't help it is Diet's a mess it seems we're harming the and it is not helping us we have to stop doing this crap we're going to get hurt I got to get out of this

Alicia

I just stop talking you'll meet with your lawyer it's a matter of fact why don't you listen to your lawyers don't bother the kid don't keep blabbing

Zues Hera

We don't want you doing it anyways it's you a lot of problems you're getting you're getting getting hit destroyed ripped apart we don't want you doing it because of that that's one reason the other is you're annoying us to do stuff your arm is still big but you know it's not necessary you're carrying on like you have stuff you don't need the public opinion and you're fixing the news the polls are not in your favorites you're fixing the poles and we are just looking at it I do understand something he's extorting us not to. It is way too easy sounding for him to get in and you find somebody wrong things and it has to be the empire but it's also this guy and he's doing a lot of three and using them as a cover going after him

Camilla

I find the situation to be horrible here what I'm doing is breaking the law all the time and telling people and I don't care about it and I should and everyone has a problem with it

Trump

Olympus yes print please

[13-the-lucky-unlucky]

(I'm not the anon who requested 8/7, I'm just a numberblocks fan to whom tumblr recced the post)

I don't expect to change your mind, but maybe give you reason to think. The Bible also endorses slavery, and gender inequality, which are, respectively, pretty universally unaccepted and not widely accepted by a lot of Christians. It's a reasonable reading to understand the antigay bits as referring to pedarasty, or pagan temple sex practices, or even perhaps in one case, cheating on one's wife with a man. Paul, who says he isn't tempted, sounds possibly aroace. A number of people read Jonathan and David as being in love.

I'm told the UMC has just voted to accept clergy in same-sex marriages.

(And the assigning of gender to numbers, of all things, is utterly arbitrary, to boot)

I see you've said you're sixteen and maybe you aren't in a safe place to reevaluate your beliefs (I've been there), but when you are some day, maybe look into affirming theology. After all, love your neighbor is the second most important commandment.

Oh cool! Hi new friend! :)

Also, this is not an attack. It really isn't, I know I can be blunt sometimes, and I don't want to be taken the wrong way.

And please, I do want to have this conversation, it needs to be had. If you can come up with valid reasons against these I am ready to listen! :>

Love thy neighbor as yourself is not a commandment. So please check your facts before you start an argument, it can really help you solidify your points in the future :D.

And I made it explicitly clear that I do not have the slightest issue with the LGBTQA+ community, I do love them because they are the same as me and there are no differences between me and them apart from the paths we walk. THAT is what love thy neighbor means, it does not mean support and comply with everything they do wholeheartedly even if you don't agree.

And yes, I'm sixteen, but with the new laws around in my country I can do whatever I want and my mom and dad couldn't say a word in defense, I just genuinely don't support, and they don't even know about this account, and I don't expect them to find it. So no, not a 'safe place' issue.

The Bible doesn't endorse slavery, it actually was very clear that you should let your slave go after 7 years of servitude and give them everything their family needs before they set off. It was also spending nearly the entire old testament freeing the Isrealites from slavery multiple times as well.

The whole gender inequality thing I don't get because Ester was a very great leader who saved the Jews from death singlehandedly. Deborah was one of the most important judges. Sarah was the only reason why Abraham lived through crossing Egypt. And Rebekah was the one to save Jacob from Esau's wrath. Mary and the other women that went with her to Jesus' tomb were the ones that G-d chose to spread the news he was alive, even though in those days women were not to be taken at face value. There are other women as well but I'm not thinking of all of them, but G-d makes it clear that he can use anyone, even women, because they are just as important, its everyone else in the Bible who tries to force that inequality.

Technically, David and Jonathan were never shown to be gay, that is merely speculation. But even so, that does not mean it was the right thing to do. David also cheated on his wife, and was a mass murderer. I don't think killing someone and saying "well David did it and therefore it is the right thing." is a valid excuse. Scripture is constantly getting twisted, so if you're going to use the 'because they did it' as evidence for your claims it can be applied to everything else David did, and not a select few things. ;)

Hope this clarifies my viewpoint, friend! I hope this finds you well! :D

[stellardeer]

I was going to leave this in the tags since it isn't necessarily constructive, but fuck it I want to type freely and not worry about character limits.

My only problem with marriage as it currently stands is the barriers for divorce. I know the posts mentions divorce briefly and how it's scary and sad but not necessarily a reason to avoid marriage since the benefits outweigh the detriments, but I do think that the divorce process is what holds a lot of people back.

Divorce isn't just stressful it is expensive. And time consuming, which can equal expensive for people who have a busy work schedule. A person I knew told me her divorce cost her $8000, which is probably even on the low end for a lot of divorces. And if you're poor, hearing that can really scare you out of even considering getting married, and make you forget about all the wonderful benefits of having custody of your children and whatnot.

But I also understand why the legal proceedings are the way that they are and why it costs so much in the first place, you definitely WANT to make sure that you are getting a fair deal out of the divorce and lawyers are necessary to ensure that, EPSECIALLY if it is a messy divorce and you have reason to believe your spouse will try to take everything from you.

My personal problem with it though was just the stark difference between how easy it was for me to get married versus how difficult it would be for me to get divorced. Our marriage was definitely not a declaration of romance, we did the bare minimum possible just to be declared partners in the eyes of the law. In my state, we did not have to go to court or have a ceremony or do anything even resembling a wedding, the only requirement was that we had to go to a notary to sign our piece of paper. Once we took tha piece of paper to the court office we were legally married. It was extremely easy.

Being who I am, I of course started looking into what we would need to do to get divorced if it came to that. There are a lot of different papers that we need to sign, and if you dig hard enough you DO find out that there are preprepared forms that you can fill out for certain types of divorce (tho it is not made super clear just from a simple scan of the .gov sites) but it seemed that in most cases you *had* to get a lawyer to draft your divorce papers. Which, again, is fine if that's the type of divorce you're going through and it's necessary. But the best you do do without a lawyer was filing for a "no fault" divorce and checking a box saying that all possesion would be evenly distributed or distributed to whicher party bought them or that it was just already sorted or whatever, but there wasn't really any option to just.. jointly sign a piece of paper saying "we want to divorce" and handing it to the court and being done, in all cases you have to appear before a judge and you have to, and this is what it says on the website, convince the judge that the two of you can no longer remain together. Which I'm sure is not as daunting as it sounds, and people divorce and remarry all the time, but the idea that my divorce might be denied just because a judge determines we don't hate each other enough or something is really just the part that's kind of ludicrous to me.

I will accept that everything I've described is honestly probably the best case scenario and MILES AND MILES ahead of what divorce has been in the past and also that the fact we even CAN divorce is a blessing we should not look lightly on, but it's really just that last bit that makes me feel like we could be doing better. It's the fact that it was so easy to consensually agree that we want to be legally bound to each other, but we cannot just as easily consensually agree to dissolve that bind. It is my personal opinion that you should be able to just sign another document in front of a notary and be on your way. Also just the fact that every single form required you to fill out the address of your 'marital home'. My spouse and I do not live together or own any property together. Im sure that I could just leave that line blank or write N/A, but it was the fact that the court just assumes you are living together and doesn't even give you a separate option to say 'No Marital Home' that rubs me the wrong way.

I dunno I probably sound like a fucking idiot because I'm describing a type of divorce that probably only happens to like .01% of the population, most people NEED the lawyers and the protection that comes with the additional steps and the judge to help determine who gets what and all that, I know that these barriers are in place for a reason, but parts of it still just stink of religious and patriarchal institutions to me. I think that the fact that we even have a "no fault" divorce option is wonderful and I am not diminishing the work that it took to even get to where we are, but given that I live in the deep south I am not wholly confident that I could be allowed to divorce my partner simply on the grounds of "Because we want to". Again, I'm sure it isn't actually as bad as it sounds but the description I was reading really made it sound like you need to have sufficient evidence that you can no longer cohabitate and get along with each other. Well what if we already don't cohabitate and never intended to..? What if we have no ill will towards each other and would like to remain on good terms but simply no longer have a need for the marriage to continue? Idk, I'm sure a lot of people would probably question why even get married in the first place if you don't intend for it to be permanent, which to be clear, my marriage was not INTENDED to be temporary, I just like to know what my options are in case we ever need them.

this might be because I’m a family law lawyer and also an old crone who remembers when marriage equality wasn’t a thing (as in, marriage equality only became nation-wide two months before I went to law school), but I have Strong Feelings about the right to marry and all the legal benefits that come with it

like I’m all for living in sin until someone says they don’t want to get married because it’s ~too permanent~ and in the same breath start talking about having kids or buying a house with their significant other. then I turn into a 90-year-old passive-aggressive church grandma who keeps pointedly asking when the wedding is. “yes, a divorce is very sad and stressful, but so is BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT ENTITLED TO EQUITABLE DISTRIBUTION OF MARITAL PROPERTY, CAROLINE!”

[arabella111]

[🍩] my take on the law of assumption !

this is basically a post where i explain how i have started perceiving the law, this is my take on the law! you must have already realised this but since i had an epiphany today, i will be wording it on my own way!

i don't know if i will be able to type this out without getting you all confused but i will try my best, so that's why i am making sub divisions lol

YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING WRONG !

if you have been in the community for a long time, you would've noticed how, after not getting their manifestation, people start finding their flaws and mistakes in what they did, they start analyzing the whole process. they ask blogs where they went wrong. and even blogs, tell them, "oh you did ____ wrong, try again!", even i have done this. but then i realised if we are actually god, then why do we have to follow the old rules that neville stated? why do we have to stay still to get into the void? why do we have to flip the negative thoughts? why do we have to repeat affirmations to make it a "dominant" thought? why do we have to follow someone else's rules?

you want to go the void but feel like moving while affirming? then move, you're the god!

you don't want to flip your thoughts and be a little doubtful of what you want? then no problem, you're the god!

you feel like making a back up plan for you think, "what if i don't get what i want?", then make one, who's checking what you're doing right or not?

you never do anything wrong. the main reason you fail is because you assume you failed. i have said this before. you can have doubts and you can manifest. you can constantly affirm the opposite and then too, you can manifest. why? because you assume so. i don't know if it is getting confusing? i'll give an example.

say, there's belle, she constantly struggles with manifestation. but she wants to go to the void. so she tries hard to stay still but then struggles and gives up. but the next day, she realises she makes the rules. that means she can easily bend the law to her liking. and then she actually gets into the void because she decided whatever she struggles in, while manifesting, isn't a necessity!

in conclusion, all you need to do to manifest is believe you're god. that's it. and live in the end. literally at the end. just know your desire is yours and no matter whatever you do, you're gonna get it. that's the only thing you need to acknowledge. stop asking blogs what you're doing wrong, cus you can't do anything wrong! do you think there's someone out there looking at you and thinking this isn't what you're supposed to do. no, right? you're the only judge in this reality.

i don't know what i just wrote, to be honest. but the main take away from this is, you never do anything wrong. understand the sentence, "you create your own rules"

[angiethewitch]

Hey :) I know you said not to get you started on the order of druids and neo celtic druid revivals but... could you start on them? I'm new to paganism and had been tempted by the likes of OBOD and BDO and would appreciate knowing if there's stuff I should be aware of lol

Feel free to ignore this if you genuinely don't want to talk about it all though :)

hey okay so I actually mixed it up, it's not the order of bards ovates and druids I was referring to, I was actually referring to the ancient order of druids. I have a problem with modern druidry in general, and ill explain my reasoning.

the AOD was made up by a bunch of bored Englishmen who, after the english completely slaughtered the druids, decided they quite fancied becoming the new druids - despite the fact we barely know anything about them. they completely wrecked the modern understanding of druids, and that still carries today.

druids these days are portrayed as tree hugging hippies when they were so much more important than that. they did practice magic, yes, but more importantly they were community leaders, judges, and historical keepers. they held the knowledge of our countries histories. they settled disputes in our kingdoms. like say there was a battle, a king could simply call on a druid to stand judgement. whatever a druid said was law. if a druid judged that one kingdom was in the wrong and had to lay down arms and stop attacking and give land back, that would be respected. they were incredibly important figures in our communities. you can see why the english colonisers had a problem with this, because they wanted to be the figurehead. they killed the druids, wiping out our cultural way of life and histories as they did so. it was a cultural genocide.

and then the colonisers decided they wanted to be the druids and cherry picked their favourite parts and completely warped the modern understanding of druidry. most druid orders these days teach a bunch of magic and spirituality, which was only a small part of our culture, and therefore completely diminish the whole point of the druids.

and when the druids did practice magic, it wasn't meditation under trees. they would cut open their enemies stomachs, drag their intestines out, and read the future in their guts. they would slice a man's throat and try to divine a meaning from the blood spatter on the rocks. they would fling people off cliffs to appease the gods. that is a far cry from the uwu peaceful robed men we see depicted today. and modern "druids" today pick a few flowers and decide theyre druids while having absolutely no understanding of the importance of these people in our country. before anything else, they were political figures.

so I have a problem with the AOD because of that, because they slaughtered my people and committed a cultural genocide and then rewrote that very culture. the OBOD took inspiration from the AOD so while I dont know much about the OBOD, I assume they still carry those practices. I know people in the order tend to be told to study alone, which is very very different to how actual druids practiced and studied in groups, as scholars. I know someone who is in the OBOD and they say they were taught the rule of three and to not curse people - do you think the druids back then were actually bothered about the rule of 3 while they were chopping up their sacrifices and cursing people to come down with sickness?

these orders, as far as I am concerned, are a way to carry on that cultural genocide. because I have had arguments with that person I know who is in the OBOD and I keep telling them that thats not what the druids were but they insist that the teachings over in Michigan are more accurate than the actual real historical sources we have, all because someone has a qualification from the Order in front of their name.

some bored middle class aristocratic men decided one day to bring back druidry but completely missed out the gritty shit and kept in the cutesy magical stuff. in our modern eyes, human sacrifice is gross, but that doesn't mean we can rewrite history. every culture everywhere has practiced human sacrifices and every culture has political leaders who did gross things. we can't mess up history just because we don't like it.

these orders are, in my opinion, a symbol of everything wrong with our cultural understanding of my people. they've woo-ified the druids and insist on warping the depiction of them with no regard for the culture theyre actively taking part in destroying.

please bear in mind this is only my opinion, one that has been formed during my own personal studies and reconnection with my culture, and if I got anything wrong with the OBOD I'm open to respectful conversations about it. I just very much struggle to see both sides of the argument when it is my culture that is still being erased by these organisations.

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3