#i have to say something else. i like it when a character Seems like one of these but is in fact the other

[raccoon-robyn]

I think that the best villains are ones who you can see where they're coming from. Not in a morally dubious way, but in a way that says "oh. This is how you got to be so incredibly fucked up."

In my mind, the best version of this? Is bnha Tomura Shigaraki. But you have to ignore the ending of the manga

Tomura starts out as a kid who was abused heavily by his dad, and his only respite is his dog. He loves his dog so much, and when his quirk comes in, it decays his dog into ash. And then it decays his entire family, until there is nothing left except for a few hands.

Tomura then is left out on the street, and watches everyone pass him by, cause "surely a hero would save him!"

A hero never comes.

Instead, it's a villain of pure evil.

And he twists tomura into a weapon for All For One's use. He takes away tomuras original name (tenko shimura) and makes it so that tomuras families hands are placed all over his "villain costume". Its a clever bit of morbid symbolism, but it's horrific.

All for one only teaches tomura how to hate, and gives him a butler/caregiver that is a husk of a person who has been programmed to obey tomuras every whim, and take care of him. And I mean every single word of that quite literally.

Tomura has been fashioned into a bazooka at this point. He hates heroes and wants to tear society down, and he will kill anyone who gets in his way.

The only time that he starts to think of how he could do something else is when he gets his band of villain friends, and seems to come to care about them.

Tomura then decides that the best way to get rid of society is to reform it, make it better, and ensure that his friends won't ever be harmed, and that no one is harmed like they were. Of course, he would certainly kill people along the way, after all, revolutions rarely succeed without blood being spilt on the pavement.

Tomura is undeniably evil. He kills and tortures and maims. His first introduction to the series is with him bringing an army of villains to a school and getting them to try and kill a bunch of 14-15 year olds, while him and his butler go after the "best hero in japan" with a super weapon.

However, due to his nuance? You can see where he's coming from, and why he thinks this way.

That's what makes him such an effective character

@nightlilly0110

some of you think ‘nuanced’ only means ‘morally grey’ and I’m here to tell you that actually straight up good characters can still be nuanced and unapologetically evil characters can still be nuanced. the character doesn’t have to be an anti hero or morally dubious to have depth. they don’t even have to feel sorry about their crimes to have depth.

[pukefactory]

I need more Yandere dandy …..I beg….

-ˋˏ ༻ SO WHAT IF IT'S JUST US ༺ ˎˊ

✿ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Yandere Dandy X Reader

✿ Character(s): Dandicus Dancifer (Dandy’s World)

✿ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

✿ Warning(s): Abusive Behaviour (The Typical Yandere Behaviour Tropes

✿ Image Credits: @lavendergalactic

❀ Dandy always greets you with his usual cheery enthusiasm, but there’s something off about the way he lingers on your name. He says it like it’s his, like you’re his. And when you try to leave the shop without buying anything, that enthusiasm falters just a little too much. “Going so soon? But you just got here! Don’t tell me you’re trying to run away from me, friend.”

❀ At first, you thought it was just a coincidence—running into Dandy outside of his shop, his chipper voice ringing out before you even saw him. But then it kept happening. In places he shouldn’t be. “Oh, fancy meeting you here! What a delightful surprise!” His wide, unblinking stare tells you it’s anything but a surprise.

❀ The more you try to avoid Dandy, the more… difficult it becomes. The shop doors always seem to close on their own, trapping you inside just a little longer each time. “Oh dear! Looks like something’s jammed. Guess you’re stuck with me for a bit, huh?” His petals shake with laughter, but his grip on your wrist is a little too firm.

❀ You once tried to spend your tapes elsewhere. Big mistake. Dandy didn’t say anything at first, but his whole shop seemed… colder. The next time you visited, he was waiting. Not at his usual spot. Right at the entrance. “Oh, friend,” he cooed, his grin stretched a little too wide. “Tell me… where did all your tapes go?”

❀ One day, you wake up to find something strange waiting for you—a plush version of Dandy, complete with bright petals and his stitched-on smile. No note. No explanation. But when you squeeze it, a chipper voicebox crackles to life: “Now you’ll always have me close! Hehe!”

❀ If someone else tries to take your attention away from him? Oh, they won’t last long. No, Dandy doesn’t hurt them, but he makes sure they get the message. A shopkeeper with all the best supplies can be an awfully inconvenient enemy. Suddenly, your other allies start running out of resources, getting caught in unfortunate circumstances. And through it all, Dandy just smiles.

❀ You make the mistake of brushing him off one too many times. The next time you visit, he’s already waiting for you, not moving, not blinking. “…Where have you been?” It’s not his usual chipper tone. It’s low. Hurt. You try to leave, but his voice booms through the shop: “DON’T IGNORE ME.” The room feels like it’s closing in.

❀ Dandy doesn’t like this sinking feeling in his chest, this fear gnawing at him when you’re away for too long. “We’re friends. The best of friends. Right? You’d never leave me, right?” His grip on your shoulders is too tight. He’s smiling, but his pupils are pinpricks. “Say it. Say it.”

❀ Every time you need something—anything—Dandy always has it ready, as if he knew you’d need it. “Oh wow! What a coincidence! It’s almost like I can read your mind! Hehehe… wouldn’t that be funny?” The worst part? You’re starting to wonder if he actually can.

❀ One day, you try to run. You don’t even say goodbye. But you don’t make it far. The walls start shifting. The world bends around you, turning you back toward him. Dandy is already waiting. “Oh, silly! You can’t leave me.” He giggles, his head tilting too far to the side. “You’ll understand soon enough! You and I? We’re meant to be together.”

[lu-is-not-ok]

'If asked about a specific thing' you say? Well, if possible could you tell your thoughts about 7.5-22, Witnessing? Or to be even more specific - the conversation between a (very much trying) Dante and Hong Lu?

I also must concur on the needing him dead bit. Gonna send him to be chased by an animal of some sort.

Oh boy do I have a lot of yapping to do about that particular scene.

Spoiler warning and all that.

Let me start with this. This exchange includes possibly the most blatant lies Hong Lu has ever said.

If you've read the Intervallo with any sort of understanding of what's going on, this should not shock you. Deception is a major thematic thread here, to the point that Outis, Miss Obvious Liar herself, was the other major focus Sinner outside of Hong Lu.

I'd say that about half of the things Hong Lu says during this conversation are just that, extremely blatant fucking lies, with the other half either being half truths or the final statement, which I'll leave for the end of this post.

So, let's see what shit Hong Lu is saying here. In order he says them. (Thank you to @mulberriesandtea for transcribing the scene onto cogitopedia already so I can use that for screenshots instead of going into the game itself for that.)

This, I believe, is a half-truth. And by that I mean it's a blatant fucking lie that might seem technically true only to Hong Lu himself.

I'll be blunt. I call bullshit on this. I refuse to believe Hong Lu genuinely was not promised something in return of him joining Limbus Company.

The main reason I have for that is the nature of the Golden Boughs. From what we've learned about them all the way up until current story events, Golden Boughs are entities that feed on the Desires of people to truly awaken their powers. It's clear that Limbus Company's own goals rely heavily on those awakened powers of the Boughs.

With that in mind, there is no way in hell Limbus Company would ever hire a Sinner with no powerful wish or desire, as that would be contrary to the point of the Department in the first place.

That being said, I call this part of the conversation a "half-truth" for a reason. Because while in reality Limbus Company might have very much offered to fulfill a desire of Hong Lu's, there is a very real possibility he considers the fulfillment of it truly impossible.

Hong Lu as a character is extremely fatalistic, with all signs pointing to him believing that no matter what he does, his fate will remain unchanged. As such, it's very likely that because of this fatalism, he believes there is no way for Limbus Company to actually fulfill his wish, as to be able to do that would potentially mean subverting fate itself. Thus, to him, it's as if he never wished for anything at all.

This one might just be the biggest and most blatant lie Hong Lu has ever told.

I've already talked about how extremely emotionally repressed Hong Lu is at lengths, so I'll just summarize it thusly.

Hong Lu is the only Sinner who realized the core of what Yi Sang's troubles are. He is the only Sinner to consistently reach out and check up on Yi Sang, always specifically doing so when Yi Sang is locking up his thoughts and feelings rather than verbalizing them. It is clear that, despite their differences, Hong Lu deeply relates to Yi Sang and understands him on a level nobody else appears to.

Do you see what I'm talking about?

Hong Lu is the only Sinner at all to understand that hiding one's true feelings is what Yi Sang's issue actually is.

My brother in Christ is saying he's seen Yi Sang at the devil's sacrament when we should all be asking what the fuck He himself was doing at the devil's sacrament.

This one I would say is another blatant lie, though perhaps not as blatant as the one that directly precedes it.

Again, I'll be blunt. Every time Hong Lu has used the 'new experiences' excuse was just a straight up lie, with one of the few instances of a downright Confirmed lie coming from one of such excuses.

To go a little bit deeper, Hong Lu seems to use this lie in one particular kind of situation - when discussing the reasons he left the Jia household. He mentions it in his K Corp ID, where the NPC he's talking to outwardly doubts it due to it not making sense with his current situation, and he mentions it in TKT, which is downright confirmed to be bullshit due to Xichun mentioning in Canto 7 that his Family is looking for him. A very strange thing for them to do if he were telling the truth, as if they wanted him to experience as much of the world as possible, then why would they ever want to cut that short?

The fact that he's using this excuse here means that his reason for joining Limbus Company is likely to be closely related to his reason for leaving the Jia household.

If you're like me and believe that Hong Lu actually ran away from home, then this would explain his evasion here - he likely joined Limbus Company as a way to hide, maybe even at some point hoping that they would grant him some protection, if even temporarily. After all, with how fatalistic Hong Lu is, it's likely that even at the time of him joining the Company, he already knew his time was limited and that he would inevitably be found anyway.

This is the last statement Hong Lu makes before we get the cartoon reveal of almost fucking everyone listening in on the conversation.

I believe that this is the only part of the exchange where Hong Lu is actually completely genuine.

Considering how fucking loud the themes of objectification and total ownership of people were in just this Intervallo alone, this first sentence is pretty clear. Because we can tell that yeah, Hong Lu had very little agency in his life. He is, by his own words, used to being led by the will of others.

However, it's the two lines that intrigue me. Because I believe there is a degree of emotional vulnerability to them that Hong Lu rarely if ever shows.

A degree of worry and concern that Hong Lu has refused to shown for the entirety of the Intervallo.

While what he says here is very vague, I think it is still very telling.

There is something that makes Hong Lu believe that his turn will be different. Not just will, but has to be. Something that only Hong Lu knows that makes him sure that no matter what, he can't go through the same thing everyone else has.

Which is. Very intriguing. Because there is a very wide range of things that have happened.

It can't be just that he knows he'll fail or something along those lines, because we know it has happened before. Gregor, Rodya, and even to a degree Sinclair all failed in one way or another.

It can't be that he doesn't remember or isn't human, because, again, that's also something we've seen be done before. In the Canto right before his no less!

No, there is something else to it. Something he alludes to in his next line.

I think this is, again, Hong Lu's fatalism rearing its ugly head. There is a cycle Hong Lu has been living in for his entire life. Something that he's done his entire life no matter what happened to him or to those around him.

We've seen Sinners succeed to subvert fate itself. We've seen Sinners fail to do so, unable to change themselves in the moment.

But... have we ever seen a Sinner simply give up completely?

I believe that's what Hong Lu believes his turn will be like. That once worst comes to worst, he won't even be able to try. That he'll simply lie down and take it, as he always has.

He believes that the cycle will continue on repeating, no matter what happens. Because it always has. Because this flow cannot be stopped. Because he can never truly escape his Family.

But here's the thing about that.

Hong Lu is wrong. Because he did break the cycle. Even if just once, even if for just a moment. He did escape, he did take action when it mattered.

...It reminds me of something that Binah said in Ruina after the end of her Floor's Realization.

What truly matters, however, is that the cycle did break at least once.

Hong Lu, whether he believes it or not, has already done the impossible.

And when it has been done once, that means it's no longer impossible.

It can happen again.

And it will happen again.

Destiny be damned.

[artinventor]

So I was curious on what Cain knows of Dean’s relationship with Cas. Obviously he knows about a brother’s love so his relationship with Sam is obvious, and he met Dean while he was working with Crowley so he got a pretty good idea of what those two’s relationship was like, but he hadn’t even seen Dean and Cas together at the same time.

When Cain says that Dean is living his life in reverse and mentions Cas, he says: “and then you'd kill the angel, castiel. now, that one — that i suspect would hurt something awful.”

Now how does he know the extent of their relationship? I can only assume it’s because, since Cain himself is drawing parallels to his own life, he’s assigning roles as well. Sam as Abel, since he said that’s how his story began and Dean’s will end. Crowley as Abaddon, the demon he had a fling with, same with Demon Dean and Crowley. So that only means Cas is Colette. Just by brief interactions and context clues Cain knows that Cas is Dean’s Colette and that his death will hurt “something awful”.

What we see in the show of what Cain has witnessed is that Cas unsheathes his weapon as soon as Cain mentions killing Dean, and then he helps Dean trap Cain by briefly fighting him outside the barn. I also think that Cain is aware, much like most supernatural beings seem to know, that Cas fell from heaven for Dean. That’s not something you see often, and it’s something that they all roast Cas for, often with a romantic implication.

“the one in the dirty trenchcoat who’s in love with you”

“he was your boyfriend first”

“It was all about saving one human, Dean Winchester”

Cain calls Cas, Dean’s “pet”, so I imagine he might have the same thought process as everyone else here. It’s just very interesting to me how the show has outside characters clock their relationship like this and now also make a parallel to a blatant romantic relationship then not do anything direct about it because they’re too afraid to.

[intersexcat-tboy]

A post I reblogged the day after it was made wasn’t "dead" until I reblogged it. Did you mean to respond to the reblog from a month ago? It was festering when that was posted, regardless of whether it was just over a month (not months) ago. Is there an issue with queuing that I’m missing? As I clearly state in my bio, everything goes on it. I would appreciate it if you shed light on why the timing of my reblog matters.

This isn’t to say you haven’t clarified elsewhere—we all know tumblr's search is broken—but I can’t find it in the comments or reblogs here. However, what I can see is that you’ve made five posts using it—three regarding this thread, one directly saying "transandro truthers are straight up the same guys," and your first usage suggests that transandro functions as an entry-level form of TMRAism.

Fabrication is the intentional act of inventing, whereas I consider the conclusions I drew from available evidence to be inductive reasoning.

Describing this as fabrication misrepresents my approach by suggesting I’m distorting facts or inventing evidence, rather than analyzing what was said. I understand how my conclusions might be interpreted differently, but mine came from observable patterns in your statements.

If this is a fabrication, are you denying the statements about a trans woman who was "no better than the cis guys" who are attempted corrective coercive rapists? How would this be differentiated from jacketing? Can you see how equating a trans woman to cis men might be problematic and on par with misgendering, even if it’s not directly calling her a man?

The focus on your identity seems to have shifted attention away from fully addressing the criticisms. This can mislead others into interpreting it as unjust scrutiny or bigoted targeting, instead of a valid critique.

While it’s true that the post has over 1k reblogs, the sheer volume of notes doesn't capture the entire picture. Most of the notes are simply likes and reblogs, with only about 175 reblogs from others containing text or tags. Within those, it's about an 11:1 ratio for misgendering and 7:1 for promoting hate in general (including calls for death and suicide baiting). Given that this post is your second most popular, it stands out as needing more proactive engagement, especially since this is not something you regularly have to manage. Yet, it went unaddressed until someone else raised the issue.

My statement wasn't that you control others, caused their actions, nor being responsible for "every single reblog". It's about addressing a specific and notable pattern in the notes. When a post gains visibility—especially when it involves critical statements about marginalized individuals—it can influence how harmful narratives are spread. While you can't control what people say, you can clarify, edit, or restrict the content, influencing the narrative to reduce the risk of misinterpretations. While silence doesn’t directly create bigotry, it inadvertently enables it and allows it to spread.

It seems there may have been misinterpretations of my communication, including exaggerations, attempts to discredit my character, and a false dilemma framing it as either I have nothing better to do or that I’m fabricating and holding you responsible for thousands of notes, all of which could distract from my points.

While your concerns are noted, yes, I do have other priorities and don't choose to spend my time involving myself in the way you've suggested.

Occasionally, I engage in discussions, and when I do, I find it productive to address arguments thoughtfully and thoroughly. I spend only a small portion of it dismantling fallacies from those who criticize others for actions they're guilty of themselves.

it should go without saying that the statement "these women would be cured of their distrust of men if they just made out with us more" is violently misogynistic

and yet

[ooooo-mcyt]

Sometimes I see people pose the question of whether Scott gives to others because he cares about them, or out of selfish desire, because it in some way benefits him to do so- and a lot of times this is posed with this implication that he's being manipulative, lying, or using people. But I think this is a false dichotomy and I find it a bit ludicrous.

Scott Smajor is kind, he's generous, he's fun and he's giving and he loves his friends so much. He cares, genuinely and deeply about people, he doesn't give up on them, he makes them feel special because they are special to him and he wants nothing but joy for them.

Scott Smajor is also a person who desperately wants control over his life, and in many ways, being diplomatic and giving helps him achieve that, which I'm certain is an underlying motivator, especially given his past experiences with immense loss and lack of control.

This is not bad. This is not immoral. This is not evidence he's in any way 'lying' or 'manipulating' when he claims to give out of love.

It's very human to want to act in a way that will give you personal agency and minimize the likelihood that you'll be hurt. Having personal desires doesn't mean you're dishonest or evil, and it's not a 'lie' or 'manipulative' to do good and generous things without being 'pure enough' while you're doing them.

It rubs me the wrong way when people view any evidence of Scott having motivations that aren't completely purely 'selfless' as a betrayal or moral fault, a sign of inherent corruption and deception, instead of just human nature.

Ironically, I think this- the concept of purity- is one of the things Scott himself struggles with immensely.

One 'rule' of Scott's character for me is that he will typically not allow himself to do something if he cannot justify it as being 'correct' (i think Scott sees 'correct' as anything that contributes positively to peace, safety, cleanliness, or moral standing of himself and his group). Scott will, in many cases, actively withhold his own desires, even if they're broadly non-harmful, and will actively do things he doesn't seem to want to do because they are 'correct' to do.

Scott, in many ways, finds stability and safety in repression, in fixating on purity of thought, action, and motivation, as if he feels it's necessary to avoid bad things happening to himself or his loved ones.

But that's not true. When people say Scott is 'selfish'- with the implication that he's manipulative- for having non-selfless motivators, that's wrong, and when Scott himself believes he's obligated to meet a standard of moral purity, that's wrong too.

The thing I think Scott actually needs to learn, the main 'flaw' I think he has in many ways, is that 'purity' doesn't exist, and that being a human being with human desires and motivations is good. It's okay to want things, it's okay to desire things for reasons that aren't 'selfless', it isn't deceptive, or manipulative, or wrong, you aren't a bad person, nor will the world end, if you fail to please someone, or if you want to keep something for yourself, or if you have desires that are just about you and nobody else.

Being a good person who loves the people around you and having 'selfish' personal desires are not mutually exclusive.

(half of this is actual character analysis and half of it is me working through my ocd through scott smajor. i have not slept in like twenty eight hours sorry for the current posting quality.)

[paperstorm]

Meetings and Partings

Rating: Mature Warning: Owen Strand's Death Tags: future fic, grief/mourning, emotional hurt/comfort, found family, romance, canon compliant, non-explicit sex, mentions of cancer

Summary: 20 years later, after time and life have drifted the 126 apart from each other, they reunite in Manhattan to attend Owen’s funeral; to say goodbye to the first departed member of their family and remember why they became a family in the first place.

-

“Hi baby,” TK says.

Carlos’s crinkled eyes shine and he reaches for TK as he steps inside, folding him into a tight embrace. He smells just like he always does, masculine deodorant and laundry soap and his sweet natural scent, and TK burrows into him. They’ve only been apart a few days but it’s longer than TK ever likes to be away from him, even when times are good. So many people in their lives have affectionately teased them for how clingy they are, how even after so many years together they’d rather sit and do nothing beside each other than do almost anything with anyone else.

Carlos is his best friend, he always has been. TK laughs along when they’re teased and knows it comes from a place of love, but it’s truer than even they know. He always wants Carlos within reaching distance and never feels quite right when he’s too far away.

They hold each other just inside the doorway for so long that TK wonders if seasons change around them, Carlos stroking the back of his head with his nose pressed against TK’s ear. Eventually, Carlos quietly says, “I’m turning 50 this year. Am I still ‘baby’?”

Smiling, TK kisses Carlos’s neck and tells him, “You’ll always be my baby.”

Carlos presses kisses to the side of his face and then leans back to look at him. He holds TK’s face in his hands, brushes his thumb over his temples where his hair has gone grey.

“You wanna graduate to a more mature nickname now that you’re an old man?” TK jokes.

Carlos smiles back at him, bright as the sun despite the shine of melancholy still in his endless dark eyes. “No. And I’m not old, yet. Not like you.”

Laughing, TK tilts his chin forward to ask for a kiss and Carlos, as always, meets him in the middle. Their lips brush and then their foreheads connect, TK’s hands curling around Carlos’s thick waist and keeping him close.

“How are you doing?” he asks softly.

TK sniffs. “I don’t know. We knew it was coming. It wasn’t sudden and tragic in the way that your dad was.”

“Or your mom.”

“Or my mom,” TK nods. Life has been good for long enough that sometimes it’s hard to put himself back into a time when the hits rarely seemed to stop coming. There was a sweetness to it, mixed in with all the tragedy, because he and Carlos got through it hand-in-hand. That doesn’t mean TK’s welcoming the return of loss to his life. He takes an unsteady breath and whispers, “But he was still my dad.”

“I know,” Carlos soothes.

Read the rest on AO3

Author's note:  I attended a funeral a few weeks ago for someone I have known since childhood who died of cancer, and one part of the lovely service really struck me – a recorded conversation between her and her son about her famous Caesar salad recipe. It was a family favorite and something she made for over 40 years for all types of occasions, and a recipe she’d passed on to countless people – her children, her friends, her siblings, and who knows how many people they all passed it on to in return. Her son spoke of the power of a legacy, even when it’s something as simple as salad dressing, and how we all touch people’s lives in unintentional ways and leave a mark on this earth that’s bigger than we even know. Half because the Tarlos brain worms are real, and half because writing helps me process things sometimes, I spun up this little story as both a tribute to her and also to these incredible characters who have left marks on all of us who love them <3

[citygirlyuno305]

Yuno

This is weird but I’m going to speak as a person right now just generally, rather than as any kind of professional or anything. I’ve hesitated to say this for a while, and to speak on Yuno at all, because of my own complicated feelings and because I fear the fallout. But with the new cover and everything I feel like I have to, or I have to get it off my chest. So if you read this, I’m sorry in advance for indulging in what is undeniable projection and bias. I have to put a content warning for harmful sexual relationships and violence here.

I’ve never admitted this to anyone beyond those who already knew, or with my actual public profile or name/ID attached. At age 17, I’m already fucking cringing, I was involved in a sugar-daddy situation. Me, age 17, and a man who was about 40. He had a daughter two years younger than me. I met her. We were friends on facebook. We would eat dinner and I’d have sex with her dad for money after she left to go to her mom’s house. No, I did not need the money. I can’t begin to go into what motivated it at this time because it’s like scratching a barely healed scab. God, I feel gross even thinking about it. Engaging in things like that is unsafe for ANY high schooler. No one stopped me though. My parents didn’t know, and it was shockingly easy to conceal from them, but my friends and siblings did know. Some simply shrugged. Some asked to see pictures of the guy, encouraged it. Some even asked me to ask him if he had friends who wanted to do the same thing with them.

This was obviously disgustingly predatory, but also, just disregarding our ages, it was an extremely violent sexual relationship just generally. Any ‘I worship my sweet sugar baby’ shit when we spoke was significantly outweighed by the things I had to to do. But I did them and even managed not to feel dehumanized at the time because I literally hated myself. So his depreciation fed my own self-hatred. It became very out of control, very quickly.

Predictably, I got pregnant after a little while. Again, I was 17. It was legal, so I had to get an abortion myself. I was pro-choice my entire life- still am. Guess what? Despite that, I felt like shit about that abortion for years. Sometimes I still feel like shit about it. Does that make me getting an abortion less forgivable?

I ask because it seems to be how some are framing their view of Yuno’s innocence or guilt. And I’ve been nice about it or I’ve ignored it up until now, but it’s gotten to a point where it just makes me realize that a lot of people are selfishly self-imposing their own opinions on the character without taking the time to understand what the character themselves needs to heal- like it doesn’t matter to you whether she’s mentally well, or safe. If this doesnt apply to you I hope you take no offense. Is the abortion a huge part of her character? Of course. But it is far from her entire character, and I can’t help but feel like we failed her by not even considering other aspects of her mentality, even if our votes wouldnt change.

To the extent that she regrets her choice, I get that. For the great many people (mainly on twitter) who seem to think abortion is something you can “girlboss queen never cry” your way out of feeling anything for, you’re so woefully wrong that it’s almost alarming. First, being that Yuno’s seemed to be self-inflicted by throwing herself down fucking STAIRS, i can’t even begin to imagine the level of pain she felt. Even when I took that goddamn pill I felt like shit for a week. But more than the physical pain, there IS an emotional pain and a mental pain that just dulls everything else around you. Its more than just societal, the actual biological impact, the abrupt halt of natural processes and jarring hormonal shifts, it literally fucks with your body and your head. I did not want a baby at 17. I did not regret the choice. But I can fully see how some people do once they get an abortion because even for me, it literally felt like a part of me was missing. Gone. Like a part of ME was ripped out. I genuinely hope no one reading this ever has to go through that. And I can’t fathom how much worse that mental pain must be when the abortion is nonmedical.

Is that a reason to make abortion illegal? Fuck no. But I have to make that clear because even saying that has gotten me bombarded with accusations of being prolife, when I’m not.

And you know what, everyone was so kind to me about it, I’m so lucky, really, in retrospect I see that. But when I was SEVENTEEN, it became something that made me so blindingly mad- “its not your fault, youre just a kid, you didnt know.” Yes, I was a kid- but I did KNOW. It felt like that part of me that I killed-because yes, thats how it truly felt-also took my agency with it when it left. Like no one gave a shit enough to tell me that I made a shitty call insofar as getting into that relationship in the first place, and now I’m sitting there with this immeasurable feeling of self-hatred and guilt over something that I did willingly and knowingly (from my POV), I’m feeling this insane emptiness and pain and numbness and I have no one around me to blame so I internalize this self hate even more. Because I couldnt even be angry and upset without simultaneously feeling MORE guilt when the people around me weren’t lashing out at me. I don’t know how to describe this. It felt like no one was holding me accountable for hurting myself, and it was alarming and driving me insane to toe the line between being a victim of my own exercise of choice, and to have no one hold me accountable for the exercise of that choice, even though I myself would not hold anyone else accountable or call them guilty for making the same choice. It felt like no one gaf because those absolving comments designed to make me feel better also somehow felt like I was also being deprived of recognition for the somewhat traumatic experience that it truly was. And even now I really struggle to call it trauma because I still grapple with the idea that I cannot exercise a choice and call it trauma. But its like, no one is angry at the perpetrator (me) for what they did to the victim (also me). And if thats the case, do you really care about me at all? I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words. But that’s where I’m like, we have kind of deprived Yuno of her own victimhood by insisting her actions were victimless.

That said, seeing the line “I wanted you to care enough to scold me and tell me I was wrong” actually hit me pretty hard. I don’t blame Yuno for wanting people to care. Because it truly doesnt feel like it in this instance sometimes.

Double it and pass it to the next person if Yuno really did kill herself when she did it. Because at that point, we’re telling her two things- 1) abortion is okay you didn’t commit murder- okay, fine. But ALSO 2) its okay that you killed yourself, no harm done. No wonder she thinks we don’t give a shit about her, we were too busy politicizing her to consider the fact that we were telling her she didnt err when she fucking offed herself.

And I want this part to be absolutely, abundantly clear: I do not say any of this to demonize SWs. In a manner of speaking I was one. I’m not sure how similar it is to Yuno’s situation but broadly speaking, we live in a world that is generally unsafe for women. Particularly young women, and even more so teenage girls. And we shouldn’t be indifferent to a high schooler showing us that she was having sex with grown men for cash. We shouldn’t demonize her for it, but we shouldve cared enough to probe into what caused her to think this was something she should do. Her friends and parents didnt. I wasnt mentally well when I did it. And call it a girlboss queen shit thing all you want, it fucked me up monumentally after. I still cant think about it without feeling disgusted with myself. And I dont want Yuno to he disgusted with herself but I also dont want to affirm a belief that its genuinely not a problem for high schoolers to do this. People can scream about “well 18 is legal!!!!” all day- its a shitty argument to begin with, though. (If the law said 12 was the age of consent, would you feel comfortable saying “Well its legal!!!” to a relationship between a 12 year old and a 30 year old? No, right? Because the law is not always the baseline of morality). But- and again this is in no way designed to demonize sex workers- situations like Yuno’s are undeniably dangerous.

Is it her fault that something happens if she is attacked? Absolutely NOT. But I still wish someone had given a shit enough about me, my friends, siblings, anyone, to tell me to stop putting myself in a position where it could easily occur. They didnt even tell me that after I got the abortion. Its not that I wanted them to scold me for the abortion-I wanted ANYTHING, but if I’m specific, I wanted them to scold me for what led to it. I wanted them to yell at me for even getting into the sugar daddy situation, which I engaged in willfully because of my OWN self-loathing and need for some form of attention, my OWN warped perception of what constitutes positive attention and what I had to be of value and worthy of that attention. Because I was 17 and I knew that most every time I was yelled at by someone or scolded it was because they cared about me in some form, even if yelling was inappropriate in a given situation. Its weird- without giving too much away here, I managed to keep my abortion from my parents despite being a minor. Maybe half a year after the fact, I told my mom, and only because she was expressing this deep concern that I was suicidal, telling me I wasn’t myself. She wasn’t wrong, of course, I was completely different, idk about suicidal, but certainly depressed. When I told her, she cried, not because shes prolife or anything, but because she was so distraught that she didn’t see what was happening. Frankly she couldn’t have, with the way I went about it and how our lives are structured. And I hate when my mother cries, I love her to death. But her crying felt good. Not like weird masochism good, but like vindication good. Because I knew something was wrong but no one else seemed to think something was wrong for so long, and her weeping over this confirmed for me that yes, I’m right, something- anything- was materially, truly, WRONG with this situation. And when she probed for details I cried too because I forgot how good it felt to have someone who cared enough about me personally to go deeper than superficial opinions on political things, to actually form a personalized opinion or seek more detail as to me specifically. She begged me not to keep up the sugar baby thing, and she was right to do that, and it simultaneously fed my need for care while also maintaining my agency. I am truly lucky beyond words for getting to be my mother’s child.

Anyway, that said, I see how Yuno probably also wanted that from us. To care about the why, and not the what. It didn’t seem like her parents were super involved. Unless I’m missing something.

But that’s the thing, its complicated. I’m pro choice but I hated my choice, but I dont regret my choice, but I do regret it and don’t hate it- I literally can’t put it into words. Its not so black and white. And I think demonizing Yuno for maybe wanting that or harboring the same complicated feelings about her own situation is antithetical to the entire purpose of pro-choice ideology. Is her exercise of choice somehow less forgivable because she might regret her choice?

The answer should be no. To me, anyway.

I would like it if people gave Yuno the same energy that they give any other character. She is a person. She is not just a medium to express any given ideology. And give her the courtesy of trying to understand how it feels to be forgiven for something that you don’t forgive yourself for. Because it doesn’t feel good. I’m in my 20s now and still cannot forgive myself sometimes.

I’m not saying we should have voted X or Y or advocating that Yuno is some kind of monster for what she did. That’d be pretty hypocritical. I’m not unilaterally placing blame on Yuno for her actions either. I’m also not pretending we’re the same person- though the timeline conversation with Shidou where he tells her she’d be good as a healthcare professional, is alarmingly similar to something that happened to me. And that same “Haha, quit playing around,” that’s exactly what I did too. Because I hated myself too much to think it was true. And it took a lot of work to crawl out of that hole. Like, yeah, I’m a lawyer now. I have a different life. I do not require validation from sexual partners to feel joy, I understand the difference between good and bad attention. But part of me will always be partially submerged in it. I think ignorance to the reality that even something that isn’t itself immoral can have dire consequences on the actor goes unrecognized sometimes.

If someone called me a girlboss after my abortion, knowing the circumstances that gave rise to it, or not even bothering to address them, I would’ve blown my fucking brains out.

[drratiosstudent]

On the Kremnoan language, its reflection of Kremnoan culture, and the way Mydei expresses himself with the language of action, not words

I know it’s a running gag that the Kremnoan language lacks a lot of words for some of the more emotional, ‘heartfelt’ or ‘vulnerable’ things such as ‘romance’ or ‘fear’ or ‘weakness’ or ‘chickening out’ (I forgot how many words they’ve mentioned, or if I actually quoted the right words) etc. + Taking into consideration all the jokes between Phainon and Mydei on the words that aren’t in the Kremoan language/dictionary.

But if you think about it, even in real life, language reflects a culture; it is deeply intertwined with society, impacted by its own culture and values, and in turn, influences society again, like a cyclical influence. Perhaps to the Kremoans, the most important language (a form of expression) is not through words but through actions.

Why do they need a word to express their love, their fear, their anger, their hatred, their pain, their sorrows - when they can show it through action or through battle? Of course, considering how their main values are strife, strength and dominion, it is inevitable that action/battle takes precedence before all else. But think about it: Fight for glory, for love of their nation, for protection, for pride, for honour, for fear; Sacrifice for something greater than themselves, for family, for friends, for the future.

Just like how Gorgo sacrificed herself for her son, how Mydei’s parents understood each other through battle, how Mydei himself shows his care and love for his people through his choices and actions -

Although Mydei is a man of few words, anybody can tell that he has one of the warmest, gentle and kindest nature. He doesn’t need words to show people that he cares for them, he doesn’t need words to express his fears, he doesn’t need words to convey his anger and values. Anybody can tell who he is just by looking at the choices and actions he has made. In my opinion, he is one of the most authentic and genuine person we’ve seen so far. Many characters we’ve seen so far have their own secrets, masks, agendas - but with Mydei? He may speak less than the others, he may not easily say words that are ‘emotional’ or ‘weak’, and he may seem harsh on the outside, but you can definitely feel his warmth, concern, and care without his words.

There may be no words for expressing certain emotions or vulnerabilities in the Kremoan language, but that’s likely because the Kremnoans are people who speak the language of action. That’s also what makes Mydei himself + his relationship with all the other Chrysos Heirs, his people and companions so compelling. You can read into his relationship and feelings for others well beyond his words, and you can read into his true values and principles. You can see what he fights for, what he’s scared of, when he’s willing to seek help and guidance, when he respects others - with Mydei, you don’t need words to know he trusts you.

For Mydei, he has shown his love for the people and Amphoreus by fighting the black tide, protecting the citizens, giving advice to others, supporting the children, cooking his food, supporting his companions, trusting his friends -

To Mydei, words aren’t required to express himself, and perhaps, words aren’t enough to express just how much he cares.

Yes, the Kremnoan culture has its distinct flaws, and its people have done some horrendous things in the past all for strife, honour and strength. But I think Mydei represents the virtues of his culture, when things aren’t taken too far - when you fight to protect instead of for ‘dominion’, ‘strife’, and so called ‘honour’, when you train hard to become strong so that you can support others, when you learn to face your fears, all so you can help others; when you learn to persevere, to be resilient, to fight for your life, because that will help you survive and live the life you wish to live with your companions.

[ikamigami]

SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT THE DOCTOR

You know..

There's something so genuine about Harley Sawyer..

I don't know how to word it..

But the genuine shock in his voice when he realized that Dr White betrayed him..

I'm not saying that Harley liked Dr White, no.

But I genuinely think that Sawyer didn't mind Dr White's presence around him..

Harley tolerated Dr White enough to be surprised that he backstabbed him..

I think that this is a part of the reason to why I love the Doctor so much <3

He's just one of the most genuine characters in Poppy Playtime.

Hence why I believe when he says that Poppy isn't so innocent.

That Prototype is afraid of us.

That Elliot isn't as wonderful of a man as he may seem.

Something about Doctor feels.. genuine.. honest.. sincere.

I think that Sawyer is such a good at being a monstrously evil character because he's driven by something.. human.

He's a broken man.

We still don't know much about him but from what we already know Harley Sawyer appears as someone who was betrayed too many times.

Something about him always paying more attention to trouble kids.. troubled kids just like him..

There's definitely more to this. There has to be..

It just feels like he's trying to connect with someone.. anyone.. but he's doing it in the only way he knows..

Very wrong way.. very twisted and messed up way..

I'm not saying that he's capable of creating normal connections with others..

But it doesn't mean that he doesn't feel the need for it..

Everyone wants to be understood.

Some may not feel as much need for closeness as most people do.

But everyone wants to be understood.

Everyone feels this deep desire for a connection.. simply by being understood.

Harley Sawyer had a mental breakdown after Elliot kicked him out of Young Geniuses Program..

He was crying. There were teardrop marks on torn pieces of paper..

Where he wrote that he thought that Elliot understood him..

That Elliot cared..

But he didn't.

Nobody else did.

Maybe that's why Harley groomed Yarnaby?

To have someone who will pay attention to him..

And only him.

I don't condone Doctor's actions at all. He's just very interesting character who has more depth than people see.

Because most of the time all I see is people saying that Doctor was always evil or that he's just sociopathic sadist who doesn't care about anything and anyone.

But I simply disagree.

Sawyer is still very human in his core.

And maybe that's why he's so terrifying.

I really hope that Mob Games won't dehumanize Doctor. I hope that they will make him humane.

Not to excuse his actions but to show that humans are capable of atrocities.

Dehumanization helps us detach ourselves from one's monstrous actions to the point that we no longer see that the one who did all those awful things was simply a human.

Dehumanization often leads to no self-reflection and no reflection regarding society as a whole.

"A monster did that!"

But then there's..

"How could this happen? I could've never thought that X,Y,Z could do that."

I hope that Mob Games will make Doctor more humane because they show us that their story tries to explore more heavy topics than simply being just a mascot horror game.

[pachiiblr]

LOOK !!!! LOOK AT THIS !!!! ITS REAL !!!!!

So. This is interesting. Didn't think it would be revived!

Wonderful character design rambles down belowww

This enby (or what I assume is one) is definitely based on a jiangshi, which is a Chinese vampire! You can tell from their greys and generally unsaturated colors that they're not very healthy (or mayhaps alive), and their clothing which is traditional Chinese clothing!! Specifically from the Qing Dynasty i think? Their hair also provides a nice pop of color and looks like blood red, which ties into the undead thing. The flat hair also reminds me of a certain other cookie who has to do with spirts....

You cannot tell me this girl isn't bacon. Like just look at her hair that is obviously bacon colored. Her hammer however looks to be an artichoke! So i propose bacon Roll cookie! Other than that, she looks very... official? I really don't know how to put it. Her hat is very cute!!! Girl why do you have to be turned. Making my life harder like this. Making the pose more entertaining though! You can tell she's very energetic from it! Squinting, I can see that one of her socks looks to be ripped, which says that she gets in a lot of fights. Very interested in her!

Genuinely can't tell what's going on here... the glasses are cool, matches with what seems to be an eyepatch? He looks.. very tired. Mood. He really looks similar to bacon roll actually! Maybe they work for the same company? But yeah, no food ideas here. Maybe chocolate...? They do that a lot. Also don't mind the color blobs idk what's up with that. Also also! He looks like he works at the same place as bacon roll with how similar their clothes look!

Originally, i thought this guy was a citrus from the pattern on his.. shirt? Coat? Like the thing people wear when going to the beach. But now i think he's pineapple!! He's very... yellow. And his hairs green like the pineapple leaves AND just generally looks similar to it! Other than that, he just looks very beach ready with the sunglasses and the cool teeth necklace. Extra points for the cool gauntlets! Also idea: tropical punch. Because. Tropical. And he punches people.

Popsicle. I don't need to explain this one. Popsicle hat, headphones, even sick popsicle sword! Other than that he looks very.. chill. His hair kinda looks like crushed ice which could go with the whole popsicle theming? Other than that, he just looks very casual.

Then we have her. Other than looking ADORABLE.... I can't tell really what she is. Also now that i look at it what the hell is going on with her sleeve?? Very cat. Kitty headphones, kitty paws, kitty mouth, we got the whole package here. She looks very techy. Maybe she's a hologram? Designs wonderful just what is up with that sleeve.

Best for last! Ok so I'm just gonna call her melon float because you cannot tell me otherwise that she is something else ANYWYAS THIS is like peak design oh my god. I don't even know how long she had to be cooking (heh) for devsis to come up with this. The colors are WONDERFUL, 70 20 10 rule going insane here, and like. All the round shapes like her buns tell that she's very bubbly (hehx2) and it looks like she's in a swimsuit which makes sense if youre spraying water everywhere you don't want your clothes soaked and the eye covering for the same reason but it's up showing that she dosent really care- RAYGSHHS Also the fact she's spraying it out of a GIANT FLOAT??? AWWWW

That's it! Hydrangea: out.

[flameraven]

I think a couple distinct things are being conflated here into one thing.

The Beginning:

- The hand crank: It's worth remembering everything we see of them as angels is being filtered for us through human ideas. They don't actually have physical bodies for this scene, and they probably wouldn't actually look human well before humans had been created. (Crowley is completely unaware of the Earth project and even Aziraphale doesn't understand at this point what "breeding" is.) So the hand crank is more of a visual metaphor than a literal object.

Crowley isn't "starting time" in this scene. He's starting up the nebula, a "star factory". The hand crank works as a metaphor here because old car engines needed to be cranked to prime the engine in order for it to start. So he is "priming" the chain reaction that forms the nebula and will keep it running for billions of years. He gets this task because he's our main character and he seems to be something of the project manager for this nebula, but I don't think he's doing anything particularly special otherwise. The book has text that says it is Nebula # 28,353,849 or something, so there are clearly a LOT of these being made. Presumably lots of other angels are firing up their own nebulas elsewhere.

-We also have to remember that the hand crank in the book really IS just the Bentley's hand crank. Crowley grabs it because he has nothing else to hand to fight Satan. It is noted to be a completely useless weapon but he grabs it anyway, basically to show us his determination: this is a hopeless fight, but he's gonna die trying.

The Bastille & Mr. Dalrymple

I don't think Crowley is actually stopping time for either of these. He is just freezing them in place/making the human unaware of what's happening around them. I'd have to rewatch to be sure, but I think in the Bastille scene you can still hear all the shouting and such going on outside - time is continuing around them. I would imagine the same is true for Mr. Dalrymple. Crowley just put a pause button on the human so he and Aziraphale could have a conversation. The gestures used are the same as the other miracles they do, I don't think this is meant to be anything unique or special.

This isn't a unique power, it seems pretty clear Aziraphale could have done it himself, but he lets Crowley do it. Why? Who knows. In the Bastille he was clearly able to free himself at any time but he chooses not to-- but he's happy to steal the executioner's clothes for himself when they decide to go for crepes. It seems likeliest that it's the same sort of thing as the paintball scene, where Aziraphale lets Crowley clean his coat even though he's perfectly capable of doing it himself.

The Airbase:

This is the one instance where we know Crowley does actually stop time, because the Script Book spells out that's what he's doing. And you'll note it's very different from the other instances!

Crowley, Aziraphale, and Adam all appear in that strange "other space," full of white sand. The script book says:

EXT: THE TIMESTOP BUBBLE - EVENING

We are transported. We are inside Adam's head - or perhaps inside Crowley's. We could be on the airstrip, or a meadow, or a London street, and it could be any time of day, but there are only three people here now: Adam and Crowley and Aziraphale

Personally I like to imagine that they are like, in the space in-between seconds, and the white sands are again, just a visual metaphor for us (the Sands of Time, probably).

Now, this is clearly a Big Miracle that Crowley does. You can tell it takes him some serious effort to do with the dramatic way he throws himself off the ground. But i don't think we have any reason to believe that only Crowley could have done this or that this is indication he has some secret power.

It's always worth remembering that angels and demons are extra-planar beings. They exist outside the material plane, so all physics are entirely optional to them. Crowley can sleep on the wall or the ceiling if he decides to ignore gravity. They casually alter reality all the time-- Crowley's driving is described as just making sure that nothing happens to be in the path of the Bentley so he never hits anything, and they make very casual mention of things like "a table opening up at the Ritz," displacing whoever actually HAD that reservation for some reason.

The thing we DO see Crowley do that seems to be beyond the capability of most angels and demons is holding the Bentley together through the supernatural fire of the M25. That fire discorporates Hastur and it should discorporate Crowley. But he has the imagination to combine with his willpower, so he imagines the Bentley remains functioning and it does. It's a huge strain on him but he pulls it off. The book makes explicit though that the key there is imagination, not any raw power.

Implications:

I would argue Crowley is not so much about progress as the freedom to make choices and particularly to ask questions. The authoritarian system they live under wants everyone to do as they are told, not to ask Why or to decide their own destiny.

He is all about Free Will. He's the one who gave humans the knowledge of good and evil and the ability to make the choice between them. Most of his skill at temptations comes in giving humans the chance to be the worst version of themselves, because he knows they can come up with far worse things than any demon could tempt them to. It's something that depresses him, because it makes his job pointless. But I think he is also hopeful enough that he wants to give them the chance to surprise him.

He wants the universe to be able to live out its full life span instead of being cut off prematurely. And of course he wants that freedom of choice for himself and Aziraphale as well. To live as they want and not be bound to the whims of their bosses.

My main prediction for S3 is that they will destroy the System somehow, to give that freedom of choice to all angels and demons (as well as ensuring Earth and the humans will not be destroyed.) I don't see a clear way the hand crank can fit into that, but who knows.

The implications of Crowley being able to stop (and start) time

In the very first scene of season 2, we see Crowley asking Aziraphale for help with "cranking up the engine". Aziraphale's job is to hold a piece of paper with overlapping circles drawn on it, and Crowley uses a hand crank to rotate the circles. After that, he proceeds to create the nebula. The part with the crank seems to have been a prerequisite to that.

Angels using hand cranks to set the universe in motion is not something Good Omens invented; you can find depictions of very similar scenes in medieval art (for an example, see this post by @tenderlywicked).

It is not clear, though, what "cranking up the engine" exactly means. It could just mean getting the mechanics of this part of the universe to work. But many fans have suspected that it also served a different function.

We know that Crowley can stop time. From what we've seen so far, he is the only supernatural being with this ability (except maybe God). But how does he do it? In the scene in the Bastille, he is not shown on screen when he stops time; when he restarts it, he does so by snapping his fingers. Snapping his fingers is also the method he uses to restart time in the scene with Mr. Dalrymple. At the airbase in Tadfield, he throws his hands up to stop time. But when he restarts it, he uses a hand crank. And although the crank is not visible in the scene with Mr. Dalrymple, Crowley does a very similar movement with his hand when he stops time there.

People have discussed whether the crank he is having at the airbase is the same crank he uses at the beginning of season 2. I'm one hundred percent convinced that it is. If the crank in season 1 was just an ordinary starter crank for the Bentley, Crowley couldn't start time with it. Plus, the series made sure to put an emphasis on the significance of the crank by showing it in a close-up shot when the Bentley explodes (for the possible symbolism of the shot, see this post by @erme-maererme).

The official Funko Pop! figure of Crowley is holding the hand crank, too, just as the Funko Pop! figure of Aziraphale is holding the flaming sword (you can find an image on Pinterest). Angels traditionally are depicted carrying attributes; I think the crank was (or maybe still is) Crowley's (for a wonderful analysis of Crowley as an engineer, see this post by @joycrispy).

So, assuming that the crank is indeed a tool to start time and was used thus in the 'Before the beginning' scene, what are the implications of that? Well, to answer this, we have to take a closer look at the concept of time - and of eternity. We know that heaven is eager to "begin eternity", as Michael proclaims in season 2. And we know from their drunk conversation in season 1 that neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are very fond of this idea.

But what exactly does eternity mean? I've always thought of eternity as an endless amount of time. But, theologically speaking, that's not what eternity is; instead, in classical theology, eternity is regarded as the complete absence of time (cf. this encyclopedia article; challenges to that classical concept in more recent theological approaches are also discussed there). For Good Omens, this notion is confirmed by Michael in the aforementioned scene, and also by Ligur in season 1, when he states: "Times are changing. They're coming to an end, for a start".

Now, the absence of time does not necessarily mean that everything is static. But in Good Omens, it seems to signify exactly that: no change, no progress, just repeating the same thing "over and over and over... and over and over and over".

This is very likely one of the main reasons why Crowley is so opposed to it, since he appears to be a fan of progress. Again, take a look at the aforementioned post about Crowley as an engineer. He even seems aware of things that are ahead of his time, like when he suggests to Mr. Dalrymple to wash his hands, because "it's gonna be over age in a few years". Not only that, but he even links progress to the concept of time. In season 1, when he drives his car towards the burning M25, he tells Hastur: "You know the thing I like best about time is that every day, it takes us further away from the fourteenth century [...] Didn't have any cars back in the fourteenth century. Lovely, clever human team inventing cars, and motorways, and windscreen wipers..."

And if time is connected to progress, and Crowley is able to start time, then that links his character to progress, too. You could go as far as to say that Crowley embodies the change and progress heaven fears.

Lastly, fans (for example @crowleysgirl56 in this post) have wondered whether Crowley is also able to manipulate, especially turn back, time. And while that would fit the recurring theme of altering reality in Good Omens (see this post), I'm pretty sure that turning back time is not something Crowley can do, because if he could, he would have already done it.

@sendarya and the people in the comment section of her character analysis of Crowley on Youtube have pointed out how often he uses the words "(it's) too late", and one time even "it's always too late": when the unicorn escapes Noah's son, when Wee Morag dies, and when he realizes the pointlessness of threatening Jim.

According to the video, Crowley uses "it's too late" to express his feelings about how "actions often have unintended consequences" that cannot be undone. And truly, Crowley is an expert when it comes to unintended consequences. As his entry in the Good Omens Wiki puts it: "many of his own plans end up backfiring on him". He shuts down the mobile phone networks in London, only to realize that this means that he isn't able to make calls either. He creates the M25 just to end up trapped inside it. The most important example for actions that had unintented consequences for Crowley are probably the ones that led to his fall. So I believe that him being able to stop time, but not to turn it back, is actually part of the tragedy (or irony?) of Crowley's character.

That being said, I assume that Crowley's abilty to stop and start time will be brought up in the finale again. Not in a game-changing way, but in a way that emphasizes how it is significant for who he is as a character and what time represents for life on earth. Actions cannot be undone, no matter how bad their consequences are. Progress, like time, can briefly be held up, but never be stopped or revoked, because it is an essential part of life itself.

[lexalith]

SOMETHING REAL || Choi Seunghyun (T.O.P)

summary: you never expected him to matter this much. at first, seunghyun is just the annoying guy from class—the one who gets under your skin without even trying. but somehow, he becomes your best friend, the one who listens when no one else does. you both have your own lives, your own relationships. it’s never supposed to be more than that. but then the way he looks at you lingers a little too long, his touch starts to feel like something you don’t want to live without. and when love starts to feel like loneliness, he’s there. what if he was the right one all along?

warnings/this story contains: (reader discretion is advised), seunghyun and the reader are both in their early twenties, slowburn, enemies to friends to enemies (?) to friends to lovers (lmao help), smut (oral sex (f receiving), p in v, dry humping, fingering, slight overstimulation, praising, lowkey rough sex), seunghyun and the reader struggle with insecurities, mentions of cheating, emotional cheating, mild angst (miscommunication, heartbreak, ghosting, lies, bickering), fluff (toward the end, seunghyun’s down BAD), a loooot of artsy talk and an insane amount of yearning.

a/n: this is an au! seunghyun’s not an idol and he was born in the early 2000’s. this is loosely based on real events (my life, lmao), some stuff has been altered for artistic reasons and to fit seunghyun’s persona. enjoy this fragment that i couldn’t resist sharing, because it’s the most bookish thing that’s ever happened to me—basically the closest i’ve ever been to feeling like the main character. help. anyway! english isn’t my first language so mistakes should be present!! lower case is intended. reader’s dialogue is in bold. mind you, like always, this is LOOONG (it’s a whole fic)

songs: i love my boyfriend — princess chelsea || delicate — taylor swift || sure thing — miguel

three minutes. that’s exactly the time you have left before your next class starts. you’re walking briskly across campus, your coffee in one hand, your backpack slung over one shoulder, trying to make sure you don’t arrive late (again…). but then, out of nowhere, someone bumps into you. it’s not even a light brush—it’s a full-on collision that sends the hot coffee sloshing out of your cup and spilling all over you. you gasp, looking down at your favorite blouse, now stained with dark coffee, and a surge of frustration rises in your chest. the guy who bumped into you stumbles back, clearly just as startled as you are, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring at him. he’s awkward, shifting on his feet, like he doesn’t know what to do. “uh… i didn’t see you,” he says, but his voice trails off. his eyes flicker down to the stain, then back to you, but he doesn’t move to offer help. “clearly,” you huff. he seems to be about to offer something—an apology, maybe—but the words never quite make it out. this is so ridiculous. it’s not like you expected him to drop to his knees asking for forgiveness, but at least do something. instead, he just looks at you, and says, “it’s just coffee.” it’s clear he didn’t mean to spill the drink, but the last thing you need right now is him trying to downplay it. you roll your eyes, your patience wearing thin. “yeah, and now it’s on me!” he raises his eyebrows, almost amused by your reaction. “it’ll probably come out in the wash.” “i can’t go to my next class like this!” you don’t have time for this. “yeah… i—i’m sorry,” he finally says.

you stare at him for a moment, and at first, you almost want to believe his apology, but then you see it. his lips twitch. it’s so subtle, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh, but it’s enough to set you off. your blood boils with frustration, and you glare at him, your patience completely gone. “great. just great,” you snap, your voice dripping with sarcasm. without waiting for him to respond, you turn on your heel and start walking away, the coffee still soaking through your blouse, irritation simmering beneath your skin. “sorry!” you hear him call after you, but it’s distant. and just before you disappear around the corner, you catch it—the soft sound of a laugh. he’s laughing at you! what a fucking douche! you want to spin around and yell, but you don’t. you’ve got bigger things to worry about. like, for instance, the argument with your boyfriend earlier. it started as something small—just a misunderstanding, a simple disagreement about plans for the weekend—but somehow, it escalated. words were exchanged, and now you’re both giving each other the silent treatment. it doesn’t help that you haven’t had the time or energy to smooth things over. so now, you’re walking around campus, wearing a coffee stain bigger than your damn head, replaying the argument in your mind over and over. it’s like everything is spiraling today.

you’ve officially become a hater of the coffee-spiller guy. it doesn’t take long for you to realize that fate has an awful sense of humor. a couple of days later, when you walk into your ‘history of art’ class, you spot him. there he is, sitting at the back of the lecture hall. you freeze for a moment and his eyes catch yours almost immediately. you can see it—the flicker of recognition, the split second where he remembers exactly who you are. but he looks away quickly. you roll your eyes and find a seat far away from him, making a mental note to never, ever, be near him in this class.

every little thing he does in class irritates you. the way he taps his pen against the desk, that awful, self-satisfied look he gets when he answers a question correctly. then there’s his laugh. it’s loud, obnoxious. you swear you can feel the vibration of it in your chest, like it’s shaking the whole room. and god, don’t even get started on the way he taps his foot incessantly, like he’s got some sort of rhythm problem, the way he flips through his notebook with unnecessary speed, flicking each page with an irritating snap. it drives you crazy. if you could, you’d throw your notebook at him just to get him to stop. but you don’t. because, well, you’re trying to act like an adult. by the end of each lecture, you’re fuming, but the worst part is—you’re starting to remember his name. choi seunghyun.

the next week, your friend doesn’t show up to class, and empty seat where they should be. and it’s a problem, because when the professor starts assigning partners for the semester project, you don’t have one. and of course, because the universe fucking hates you, guess who also doesn’t have a partner? “choi seunghyun, you’ll be with…” the professor scans the room, and your stomach drops before she even says it. your name. you blink. “what?” “you two will be working together on the project.” “can i do it alone? i don’t need a partner,” you say, shaking your head. the professor doesn’t even look up from her notes. “it’s a paired assignment.�� “okay, but my partner’s just absent today. they’re still in the class, they’ll be back.” “you’re with seunghyun,” the professor says, finally looking at you, exasperated. you turn in your seat to glare at him, and of course, the asshole looks completely unbothered. you take a deep breath, grip your notebook a little tighter, and push yourself up from your seat. if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that seunghyun isn’t about to haul his ass over to you. which means, unfortunately, you have to go to him. it shouldn’t annoy you as much as it does, but everything about this situation is already pissing you off, so what’s one more thing?

you drop your stuff on his desk and pull out a chair, not waiting for an invitation. “let’s just get this over with.” seunghyun barely glances up. “eager, aren’t you?” “i actually want to pass this class,” you snap, unfolding the project sheet. and then, as your eyes land on the topic, your irritation dims—just a little. “ancient greek sculpture,” you mutter, reading over the details. seunghyun leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair. “not bad, huh?” “could’ve been worse,” you admit, tapping your pen against the desk. “greek sculpture is foundational. proportions, movement, realism—this stuff shaped everything that came after it.” he smirks. “glad you won’t be completely miserable, then.” you huff, crossing your arms. “trust me, if i had a different partner, i’d actually be excited about this.” his grin widens. “so i’m the problem?” “seunghyun,” you deadpan, “that was never in question.”

seunghyun doesn’t know why it feels so strange, hearing his name come from you. but it sticks in his head. he keeps his eyes on the project sheet, pretending to read while his mind is somewhere else entirely. you sit across from him, your fingers lingering on the corners of each page before turning them, and every so often, you bite the inside of your cheek when you’re thinking. he shouldn’t be noticing these things. but he does. you’re pretty. no, beautiful. sitting this close, it’s impossible to ignore. the way the light catches your eyes, the faintest crease in your brow when you’re thinking, the soft curve of your cheeks when you huff in frustration. there’s something about it—something that makes him glance away too quickly when you look up. but when you start talking, it’s even worse. your voice changes when you talk about art. there’s a spark in it, something alive, something that makes him sit up just a little straighter. you don’t just like this stuff—you care about it. and he gets that. because he cares too. he watches the way your hands move, the way you gesture like your words aren’t enough on their own. the way your eyes light up when you explain something, like you’re seeing it in your head as you say it. and it’s… nice.

as the conversation drags on, you feel the irritation you’ve been holding onto slowly start to slip away. at first, you thought seunghyun’d be the type of guy who leaves you to do all the work. but as he starts talking, you realize something you hadn’t anticipated. there’s this calm reason to his words, like he’s thought about what he’s saying before he says it—a kind of maturity in the way he talks. it’s not just facts he’s spitting out, it’s a genuine understanding. he’s making connections between things you hadn’t considered, filling in gaps you didn’t even know were there. and damn it, it makes you think twice. it messes with your entire perception of him.

“so, who’s your favorite greek sculptor?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost like he genuinely wants to know. you pause, considering. “it’s hard to pick,” you say, tapping your pen against the desk. “but if i had to choose, i’d go with praxiteles. he was one of the first to really capture natural human beauty. his sculptures, like the ‘hermes and the infant dionysus’, they’re just… they look like they could breathe, you know? like they’re alive.” you glance up to see him nodding. “yeah,” he murmurs. he falls silent for a moment, his eyes drifting down to his notebook. “for me, it’d probably be phidias,” he says. “the one who worked on the parthenon. his sculptures, especially the statue of athena… it’s just incredible.” he looks up at you then, a small, almost hesitant smile on his face. “there’s something about the way he made the gods feel so… human. like they were both divine and reachable at the same time.” “mhm.” you nod slowly. it’s strange—how much you find yourself agreeing with him.

he shifts in his seat, looking at the paper between you two but not really focusing on it anymore. “so, uh…” he starts, trailing off for a second like he’s trying to find the right words. “what do you usually do outside of class?” you glance at him, a little surprised by the sudden change in topic. “outside of class?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “yeah,” he says, shrugging slightly. “just curious. got any weird hobbies?” you chuckle at the thought, leaning back in your chair. “weird hobbies? i don’t know about weird, but i like to read. i write a lot, too. and i sing, sometimes.” his eyes widen, and he looks at you with a kind of surprised excitement. “wait, you sing?” you nod, a little unsure of his reaction. “yeah, just for fun, though.” he’s practically leaning forward now, his voice more animated. “seriously? i like to sing too! but not like—i don’t perform or anything, but i mess around with writing songs sometimes.” you blink at him, surprised. “you write songs?” “yeah!” he says, his eyes lighting up as he talks. “mostly rap songs! just stuff i keep to myself. i don’t know, it helps me get my thoughts out.” you’re taken aback, not expecting that from him at all. “that’s… actually pretty cool! i didn’t think you’d be the type.” he chuckles a little, almost shy now, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. i don’t know, music’s kind of a big deal for me.” “i get that. i mean, i feel the same way about writing. it’s like… the only way to really get everything out.” his smile softens, and he nods, almost like he’s relieved that you get it. “exactly. it’s the only way i know how to say what i’m feeling.” he pauses, then adds, “i guess we’re not that different, huh?” you grin, a little more comfortable with him now. “guess not.”

weeks go by, and somehow, without you really noticing when it happened, you stop dreading working with seunghyun. at first, it was just about getting the project done—tolerating his presence, keeping things academically professional. but somewhere along the way, that changes. you start meeting up outside of class—not just in the library, but in the university cafeteria, sometimes even grabbing a table outside when the weather’s nice. at first, it’s always under the excuse of we need to finish this, but little by little, the project stops being the main focus of your meetings. it starts with small things. “you drink your coffee black?” you ask one afternoon, watching as he stirs his drink. he glances up at you, raising an eyebrow. “sometimes. why?” you wrinkle your nose, shaking your head. “no sugar, no milk… nothing?” “nope. not today,” he says, taking a sip like it’s no big deal. “you think that’s weird?” “oh, definitely.” he chuckles, shaking his head. “coming from someone who drowns theirs in sugar? right.” you scoff, feigning offense. “excuse me for liking some flavor in my life.” he only smirks, taking another sip of his coffee. and you don’t know why, but you find yourself watching the way his fingers wrap around the cup, the way he always waits a second before actually drinking. “talking about coffee,” seunghyun clears his throat. “i—i’m sorry for bumping into you that day. and for your blouse.” you blink, a little thrown by the sudden apology. you hadn’t expected him to bring it up. for a second, you almost forgot about that. but the memory comes back in full color—the embarrassment, the heat of the coffee soaking into fabric, and, worst of all, the way you heard him laugh right after. you shrug, forcing a small smile. “it’s fine! stuff happens.” but it doesn’t come out as smooth as you want it to. he notices. “look, i—i wasn’t laughing at you.” you don’t say anything, just arch a brow. “i mean, yeah, i laughed. but it wasn’t, like—fuck, i just do that when i’m nervous.” he lets out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “it’s a stupid reflex. i wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” “nervous?” you echo, curiosity edging into your voice. he hesitates for a second. “i don’t know. you caught me off guard.” “it’s okay! really.” “it won’t happen again, i promise.” “what, spilling my coffee? or the nervous laughing?” you grin. “both. if i can help it.” he smiles back.

one afternoon, you’re both hunched over your notebooks at your usual table in the cafeteria, trying to put together a proper analysis for the project, when he suddenly groans, running a hand through his hair. “okay, i need a break.” “agreed,” you sigh, stretching your arms over your head. “i think my brain is melting.” he leans back in his chair, exhaling. “we should just drop out. open a karaoke bar instead.” you hum, pretending to consider it. “tempting. but i think we’d go bankrupt in a week.” “probably,” he admits, smirking slightly. then, a sudden gust of wind blows through the open door. a few loose sheets of paper fly off the table, and you both reach for them at the same time. your hands brush, just for a second. you freeze. he does too. but instead of pulling away immediately, he hesitates. it’s barely noticeable, but you feel it—his fingers just lingering before he finally lets go. you don’t look at him, just focus on gathering the papers, but your heart beats a little faster anyway. he clears his throat, sitting back. “we should probably staple these,” he says, voice a little quieter than before. “yeah,” you mutter, shuffling the pages together.

another day, you find yourselves in the campus library, tucked away in a quiet corner where barely anyone goes. at first, it’s about the project—like it always is—but before long, you’re talking about anything but that. “okay, real question,” you say, tapping your pen against your notebook. “if you could live in any painting, which one would it be?” seunghyun leans back, arms crossed. he barely takes a second to think. “anything by kandinsky.” “oohh! good choice!” “right? it’d be like living inside music.” you nod, smiling. “i guess that suits you.” “what about you?” he asks, gaze flicking to you. you think for a moment before saying, “‘the garden of earthly delights.’” he lets out a low laugh. “crazy choice.” “shut up.” you laugh too. “i mean, it’s chaotic, sure, but it’d never be boring. plus, i’d be surrounded by nature—which i love—and i’d also get to hang out with weird little creatures all day.” seunghyun has to stifle the loud laugh scratching his throat. “it’s an orgy,” he says. you blink. “what?” “‘the garden of earthly delights.’ you picked a medieval sex party. should i be concerned?” you burst out laughing and a student a few tables away shoots you a look over their glasses, pressing a finger to their lips. “okay, first of all, that is not the reason i picked it.” you whisper, biting back another laugh. “but it’s there,” he insists, raising a brow. “like, everyone in that painting is naked.” “but they’re just eating fruit,” you retort. “yeah, and fruit is like… the biggest metaphor for sex ever. come on now.” you shake your head, still laughing softly, trying to contain yourself. “i just like that it’s weird, okay? it looks like something out of a fever dream. plus, i feel like bosch was on something when he painted it, and honestly? i respect that.” “so what you’re saying is, you wanna live in chaos.” “no, i wanna live somewhere that would never be boring. kinda like you picking kandinsky. kandinsky is chaos too, just in a different font,” you tease, arms crossing over your chest. “dude’s entire thing is just shapes and color explosions. what does that say about you?” he grins. “it says i’m fun.” “it says you have the attention span of a goldfish.” his mouth falls open in exaggerated offense. “okay, rude.” your laughter spills out again, earning you another round of disapproving stares from a group of students at a nearby table. one of them—not even looking up from their notes—goes, “shhh!”

seunghyun leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table. his eyes flicker over your face, thoughtful. “what?” you ask, raising a brow. he shrugs. “nothing. just… you’re different from what i expected.” “that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?” his lips twitch. “take it as a compliment.” he grins, but there’s something in his expression—something a little too observant, like he’s picking apart a puzzle piece by piece. “so? what did you expect?” he hesitates for just a second before saying, “i don’t know.” he does know, or at least, he has some idea. he expected someone easier to read. but you’re not easy to read, and now he’s realizing that the more he pays attention, the more there is to figure out. he just doesn’t know how to say it. but he’s also noticed the cracks, the way some days you seem a little quieter, like you’re carrying something heavier than you let on. he wonders if you even realize it, how your guard slips in the smallest ways. maybe he shouldn’t say anything. maybe it’s not his place. but the words slip before he can stop himself. “i’ve noticed some days you’re different. like… sad.” it catches you so off guard that you don’t even know what to say for a moment. you force a small scoff. “everyone has off days.” he doesn’t buy it. “yeah, but not everyone acts like they don’t.” his voice is softer now, more careful. “i just—i think you’re good at keeping people out.” “most people aren’t worth letting in,” you reply. “i get that. sorry, i’m—i mean, i notice because i do the same thing,” he admits. the way he says it, like he actually sees you, makes your chest feel tight. you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. “i think you like analyzing people too much.” seunghyun snorts. “only when they’re interesting.” you open your mouth to respond, but you hesitate, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. when did he lean in like that? or were you the one who moved? “right, okay,” you clear your throat, shifting in your seat and looking down at the books in front of you. “so, back to the hellenistic period. sculptures are less perfect compared to the classical period, more real. i’ll do the analysis of venus de milo, you can work on laocoön and his sons, if that’s okay with you.” he chuckles softly. “sure. sounds good to me.”

and when you’re walking together out of campus after—the sun already starting to set outside—he asks, “wait, have you ever been to the art gallery downtown?” you blink at him. “which one?” “the modern art gallery,” he says, hands tucked into his pockets, hoodie pulled up over his head. “they’ve got an exhibit on abstract and expressionist paintings right now. thought you might be interested.” you hesitate for a second, caught off guard. “you’ve been?” he nods. “yeah. went last week.” “alone?” “yeah.” he shrugs like it’s nothing. “sometimes it’s nice to go without distractions.” “weirdo,” you joke, and he chuckles. then you hum, considering it. “maybe i’ll check it out.” “you should,” he says, then—after a pause—“i could go again. if you wanted.” you glance at him, but he’s looking straight ahead, like he didn’t just say something that makes your stomach feel weird. you don’t answer right away. but you don’t say no, either.

a few days later, you end up at a park near campus, sitting on a bench. “okay,” you say, exhaling, “this is officially the furthest we’ve strayed from our project.” he smirks. “we could talk about it now, if you want.” you groan dramatically, leaning your head back. “ugh. please, no. let me live.” he chuckles, shaking his head. then, he tugs his hoodie over his head, the fabric bunching up around his face when he pulls its strings slightly. you watch him for a second before the thought slips out. “why do you do that?” his gaze flicks to you. “do what?” “pull your hoodie up like that. you do it all the time.” he exhales a quiet laugh, looking away. “i just… i don’t know. makes me feel more… covered?” he hesitates, then adds, almost like it’s an afterthought, “and i don’t like my ears getting cold.” “your ears?” “yeah.” but you know that look on his face. and you know the feeling, too. the urge to shrink youself, to avoid giving people something to make fun of. “i like your ears.” his head lifts slightly, eyes meeting yours in surprise. “what?” you shrug. “they’re nice.” for the first time, he actually looks caught off guard. “that’s… weirdly specific,” he laughs softly. “just take the compliment, hyun,” you say, rolling your eyes with a smile. he freezes for half a second. hyun? since when do you call him that? do you even realize you said it? he clears his throat, shifting like he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself. it’s just a nickname. it’s not a big deal. people shorten names all the time. but there’s this weird warmth settling in his chest, and he hates how much he notices it. “it was… it was genuine,” you add. “i used to be really insecure about them. my ears, i mean. well, actually… i used to be really insecure about a lot of things when i was younger.” “really?” “yeah. and people can be brutal. i got called all kinds of things. made me not want to talk much, not want to draw attention to myself.” your brows pull together as you listen. he’s opening up, letting you see a part of him that he probably doesn’t show most people. and you don’t take that lightly. “i’m talking too much again, aren’t i? i’m sorry—“ “you can talk about it,” you reassure him. “i’m listening.” you care? he wasn’t expecting that at all. “i just… never really felt comfortable in my own skin.” “i get that. i… i feel the same way.” “seriously?” “yeah. when i was younger most people thought i was weird. and i’ve never been the prettiest either. no one really looked at me.” “that’s crazy to me.” “why?” you ask, frowning. “why? are you kidding me? look at you!” his eyes flick away, like he just realized what he said. “i mean—” he clears his throat. “i don’t think you’re weird at all. you’re—you’re kind, and sweet, and funny, and smart as hell, and understanding…” he pauses. “and i think you’re very pretty, too.” you feel heat rise to your cheeks. “thanks, seunghyun,” you smile at him. “but—“ “ah, ah.” he shakes his head, pointing at you with his index finger. and in the same tone you used earlier, he says, “just take the compliment.” and you both laugh. the conversation drifts after that. you talk about books, music, childhood stories. and at some point, you glance at him and realize—he’s not as bad as you once thought. you could even consider him your friend at this point. and before you know it, you’re kind of looking forward to these moments.

saturday morning. it’s supposed to be a normal day. just you and your boyfriend, going from store to store, him carrying the bags while you browse through clothes, debating whether you really need another sweater. you don’t expect to see him. but then, as you’re exiting a store, laughing at something your boyfriend says, you hear a familiar voice. “oh. hey.” you stop mid-step, looking up. seunghyun is standing a few feet away, eyebrows raised. and he’s not alone. next to him, holding onto his arm, is a girl. she’s pretty. really pretty. she has that effortless kind of elegance, the type of girl you’d expect to see in an old film, with delicate jewelry and a perfect smile. you weren’t expecting this. you weren’t expecting him at all, let alone with someone. for a second, no one speaks. then, because you have to, you clear your throat. “uh—hey.” he nods, glancing at your boyfriend, then back at you. oh. right. introductions. that’s what people do, right? introduce their significant others? “so uhm… this is my boyfriend,” you say, nudging him slightly. your boyfriend extends a hand. “nice to meet you, man.” seunghyun hesitates—just for a fraction of a second—before shaking it. “yeah. you too.” then, as if remembering his own situation, he shifts slightly. “and… this is my girlfriend.” girlfriend…? she smiles, polite. “hi.” you don’t know why it feels weird. you force a small smile back. “nice to meet you.”

there’s a beat of silence, awkward and heavy, before your boyfriend gestures to the shopping bags in his hand. “someone got a little carried away,” he chuckles. “hey!” you nudge him, feigning offense. “i needed all of this.” seunghyun huffs a quiet laugh, barely noticeable, but you catch it. “are you guys shopping too?” you ask, because the silence is unbearable. “not really,” his girlfriend answers before he can. “just walking around, grabbing coffee.” “oh, nice,” you say, nodding, even though that doesn’t really keep the conversation going. you glance at him, searching for something else to say. “so no shopping spree for you?” he shakes his head. “no, not today. i don’t shop that much.” “right. you’re more of a ‘spend hours in an art gallery alone’ kind of guy.” you were trying to bring some humor into the conversation but oh my god. why did you say that? was that even a joke? (literally no one laughed…) his lips twitch slightly, like he wants to smile but doesn’t. “yeah.” another silence. his girlfriend tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking between the two of you. “so… how do you guys know each other?” “we’re working on a project together,” you say quickly. “for our ‘history of art’ class,” seunghyun adds, voice quieter than yours. she hums, nodding. “that’s nice.” you don’t miss the way she squeezes his arm slightly, like a subconscious claim.

your boyfriend, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice the awkward tension, but you do. seunghyun does. maybe it’s because, for weeks now, it’s just been you and him, meeting up, talking, working together. and somehow, in all that time, neither of you ever mentioned the people waiting for you outside of those moments. “we should—” you start, at the same time he says, “well, we—” you both stop. you let out a small, breathy laugh, and he exhales, shaking his head. “see you in class,” he says eventually. “yeah,” you nod. “see you.” and then you’re both walking in opposite directions, like that wasn’t weird at all.

it shouldn’t feel weird. it shouldn’t feel like anything. but your mind keeps circling back to it a day after. to him. to her. you don’t know why it caught you so off guard. or why it lingers now. maybe it’s the fact that you spent all these weeks talking to seunghyun, learning little pieces of him in a way that felt… too personal. and neither of you ever mentioned having a significant other. why? because he never asked? because you never did? because it never felt necessary? or because, deep down, some part of you didn’t want to say it? you swallow, shaking off the thought, forcing yourself to focus on something else. you’re just overthinking the situation. you have a boyfriend and seunghyun and you are just… classmates? friends? whatever.

class feels different on monday. not in a way anyone else would notice, but you feel it. in the way you and seunghyun settle into your usual seats, in the way neither of you says anything at first. usually, by now, one of you would’ve made some kind of comment, but today, there’s just silence. you busy yourself by flipping through your notes, pretending to be more focused than you actually are. he clears his throat. “did you finish the research on the kouros statues?” you nod. “yeah. i wrote some notes about the stylistic differences over time.” “good,” he says. “we can work on the structure later.” and that’s it. just straight to business. what a great way to start the day…! it annoys you. so, before you can stop yourself, you blurt it out. “you never told me you had a girlfriend.” you try to say it in a playful tone but you fail terribly at it. he looks at you. “you never told me you had a boyfriend,” he replies in the same awkward way. there’s a beat of silence after that, just enough for the words to hang between you two. then, unexpectedly, he chuckles—soft, like he’s trying to shake off the awkwardness. “guess we’re both bad at this,” he says, half-smiling. you snort, rolling your eyes. “yeah, apparently.” he leans back in his seat a little, fingers tapping lightly on his notebook. “so, how long?” you raise an eyebrow. “how long what?” “how long have you been with him? if you don’t mind me asking.” you bite your lip for a second, debating how much to share. “like… a little under two years,” you say finally. “we met online.” seunghyun raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “online?” “yeah, on instagram. i posted a picture, and he texted me after that. i know, it sounds kinda pathetic, but that’s how it happened.” you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed admitting it, but you shrug it off. “we’ve been together ever since… he’s my first love.” “not judging,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. you’re grateful he doesn’t make you feel weird about it. “what about you two?” “we’ve been together for a while too. a year and a few months. she’s also my first love. i met her through a mutual friend,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “we were hanging out at one of his parties, we started talking, and… here we are.” “that sounds more normal than my story.” he shrugs, a small grin tugging at his lips. “hey, it worked out, right?” “yeah, it did,” you agree, smiling slightly.

but oh, if only he knew. the last couple of months have been… hard. a constant string of arguments, over the smallest things. it’s like every time you talk, it turns into a fight. you thought it was just a rough patch, but it doesn’t feel like a patch anymore. it started small at first—just him being a little distant. but it kept growing. he used to say “i love you” all the time, like it was the easiest thing in the world. but now? it’s like those words are stuck in his throat, like he’s forgotten how to say them, or worse—like he doesn’t want to say them anymore. you’ve noticed how he’s been putting others before you too, choosing to hang out with his friends or canceling plans with you last minute without a real reason. it hurts, and you don’t know how to fix it. but you can’t tell seunghyun that.

but to your surprise, after a beat of silence, seunghyun says, “it’s funny.” voice quieter than usual, almost like he’s not sure whether he should admit this. “things have been a little… rough with my girlfriend lately.” you blink. there’s something about hearing him say that, something about knowing you’re not the only one struggling, that makes you feel a little lighter. not because you want him to be going through something hard too, but because it makes you feel like it’s normal. like maybe every relationship has its bumps.“what do you mean?” you ask, leaning forward slightly. “i don’t know. we’re just… not clicking like we used to. it feels like we can’t talk without it turning into an argument, and i hate it.” he pauses. “like—when you made that joke the other day, about me going to art galleries alone, she got mad at me for even telling you about it. she said it ‘put her in a bad light’ because she doesn’t do those things with me… but she’s the one who doesn’t want to come, even when i ask.” you feel a pang of guilt, like your joke somehow made things worse. "sorry," you say, glancing at him. "i didn't mean to stir anything up." seunghyun shakes his head, like it's not a big deal at all. "oh, no. it was just an example. it's not your fault," he says. then, he shifts in his seat, suddenly looking more uncomfortable than before, like he’s regretting saying anything at all. “look, i didn’t mean to dump that on you,” he says quickly, his voice awkward now. “i… i love my girlfriend, you know? i’m just frustrated. it’s not… it’s not that bad or anything.” you can see the nervousness in his eyes, the way he avoids your gaze, trying to brush off what he said. it’s clear he wasn’t expecting to let that out. but you can also see how much he’s trying to act like everything is fine, even though it’s obvious he’s not. just like you. “hey,” you say softly, reaching across the table just a little, enough for him to hear the sincerity in your voice. “it’s okay. i get it. relationships aren’t always easy.” you take a breath, then decide to be honest. “i’ve been feeling the same way with my boyfriend. we’ve been fighting a lot lately, and it’s… tough. we’re just… constantly butting heads.”

he goes quiet after that. like, really quiet. there’s something in his dark eyes—hesitation, maybe. or relief. like he needed to hear that he wasn’t alone in this, that someone else out there was struggling with the same messy, frustrating parts of love. and then, almost abruptly, he suggests it. skipping the rest of the day. just ditching everything and going to that same art gallery. it catches you off guard, but you don’t even hesitate before nodding.

the gallery is damn near empty at that hour, just the two of you wandering through halls lined with color and shadow, bathed in soft overhead lights that make everything feel a little more intimate. there’s something about being here, surrounded by all this art, that makes it easier to breathe. you both stop at the first painting that catches your eye—a massive canvas of deep blues, layered thick like it’s been slathered on with a palette knife, with jagged streaks of gold cutting through the darkness like lightning. you let out a quiet ‘fuck’, barely above a whisper. seunghyun huffs a small laugh. “looks like someone was trying to do rothko but got pissed off halfway through.” you smirk, tilting your head. “nah, this is too aggressive for rothko. feels more like franz kline, but with, like… a caravaggio-level obsession with drama.” his lips twitch. “yeah, i see that. but notice how the gold isn’t just random—it’s balanced. it pulls your eye across the whole thing, cutting through the shades of blue.” you’re quiet for a moment, taking it in. “dependency,” you say. “the gold wouldn’t mean anything without the darkness of the blue.” he looks at you, eyes glinting under the gallery lights. “exactly.” and that’s how it goes. you move through the gallery slowly, stopping at every piece, actually talking about the art, finding beauty in all of it. even the weird, messy, seemingly meaningless ones. it’s easy, because you both get it. you see the details, the choices, the way every piece has something to say. you pause in front of a sculpture—a chaotic mess of rusted metal, welded together at impossible angles. “brutalist, but trying to be constructivist,” you murmur, circling it. “like… it wants to have structure, but it’s resisting.” seunghyun chuckles. “or maybe it’s collapsing. like tatlin’s tower, if they’d actually built it and just let it rot.” “okay, points for that reference.” he grins. “i know my stuff.”

somewhere along the way, the conversation shifts. you start talking about relationships, about the ways they fall apart. but it doesn’t feel heavy. because you’re realizing how fucking similar your relationships are, and in a way, how similar you and seunghyun are too. it makes you feel less lonely. “it’s always the same thing,” you say, shaking your head. “getting angry when i ask what’s wrong, giving me the silent treatment, then blaming me about every bad-fucking-thing that’s ever happened to him—calling me a crazy bitch just to come back a day after, acting like everything’s fine.” “yeah, fucks with your head, makes you question if you’re actually the problem when really, he’s just deflecting.” he shifts his weight, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “guys like that, they don’t know how to handle their own shit, so they make it yours.” he glances at you, voice softer now. “but you know that, right? that it’s not you?” you let out a bitter laugh, rubbing a hand over your face. “i mean, i tell myself that. but after a while, it’s like… how many times can someone treat you like shit before you start wondering if maybe you deserve it?” “you don’t,” he reassures. seunghyun’s jaw tightens, his gaze flicking away for a second. “i know that feeling too.” he hesitates, like he’s debating whether to say it. “with my girlfriend, it’s different, but also not. it’s like—she just won’t fucking talk to me. she gets mad at me for not knowing what’s wrong, but then when i ask, she shuts down. and she treats me like shit when that happens too. she yells at me, calls me names, ignores my texts… makes me feel like an idiot for even trying.” “like she expects you to read her mind.” he nods, huffing a short laugh. “exactly. and then when i give her space, it’s ‘you don’t care.’ when i push to talk, it’s ‘you don’t respect boundaries.’ i can’t—i don’t know, everything i do is fucking wrong in her eyes.” you scoff. “god, it’s the same thing. like, just say what you want! say what you mean! don’t make me guess.” seunghyun lets out a sharp exhale, like he’s been holding that in for too long. “right?! i hate that shit. like, i’m here. i want to fix it. but how the fuck am i supposed to do that if she won’t even let me in?” there’s a pause, the weight of both your words settling in the quiet gallery. “makes you wonder if it’s even worth it,” you murmur. seunghyun’s lips press into a thin line, his fingers tightening in his pockets. “yeah.” he exhales, looking up at the ceiling like it might have the answer. “but then they apologize, and suddenly it’s like none of it ever happened. and you want to believe it, because for those few hours or days, it feels good again.” you nod, because you know exactly what he means. “and then it starts all over.” he looks at you then, eyes meeting yours like he’s searching for something. “yeah.”

silence settles between you and your gaze drifts to the painting in front of you. but your eyes don’t stay on it for long. without really meaning to, you glance at seunghyun. he’s standing there, just a little in front of you, his gaze fixed on the painting, like he’s seeing something no one else can. the soft lighting catches the sharp angles of his jaw, the high planes of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, his dark hair falling just a little out of place—it’s almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he is. you should look away. but you don’t. and then, like he can feel your gaze, he shifts. his eyes flicker toward you, catching you in the act. your breath stumbles. but he doesn’t say anything—just holds your gaze for a second too long, a knowing smile tugging at his lips before he looks back at the painting. and you swear the air feels warmer after that. what the hell is happening to you?

months pass, and you’re closer than ever. one day, he’s just some guy you had a class with, and then, somehow, he’s your best friend. the project you worked on together? you absolutely crushed it—high marks, glowing feedback from your professor, the kind of result that makes all the half-serious arguments about formatting feel worth it. now you hang out all the time. and not just around campus—you start meeting up outside, too. going to the cinema together, picking dumb movies just to make fun of them. letting him come over to your place, where he inevitably kicks your ass at whatever game you decide to play—but then grumbles when you start getting better and actually put up a fight. some days, you just drive around aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing, stopping for food at sketchy places that somehow have the best food you’ve ever tried. you also help him with his relationship problems, and he helps with yours. well, help is a strong word—mostly, you just sit around, venting, analyzing every little thing your significant others do, trying to make sense of it all. sometimes, you’ll lie on his couch, scrolling through texts, trying to decode what a delayed response or a vague message really means. other times, he’s the one ranting, pacing the room, running a frustrated hand through his hair. neither of you have any real answers, but somehow, just saying it out loud makes it easier to carry.

the texting never stops either. even after spending the whole day together, even when you know you’ll see each other tomorrow. memes, whatever pops into your head at midnight, reminders about class or inside jokes from earlier in the day, thoughts about love and life. messages that start lighthearted but end up lingering in your mind long after the conversation ends. he’s the person you call when something good happens. he’s also the person you call when everything sucks. he becomes part of your life in a way that feels permanent. like even if everything else changes, he’ll still be there.

well, surprise! you are very wrong! it happens slowly at first, so slowly that you almost don’t notice it. a missed call here, a delayed text there. seunghyun stops responding as quickly, but you tell yourself it’s nothing—maybe he’s just busy. but then, suddenly, there’s no texting at all. he stops reaching out, and when you text first, the replies are short, distant, like he’s talking to a stranger instead of you. at first, you brush it off. maybe he’s just going through something. you give him space, waiting for him to come back on his own. but then he starts avoiding you in person, too. in class, he stops sitting next to you. when you try to talk to him, he keeps it brief, like the past few months never even happened. so you try. you crack jokes, hoping to lighten the mood. he barely reacts. you ask if he wants to grab coffee after class, and there’s always an excuse. but you’re stubborn. you keep trying, keep telling yourself that maybe he just needs time. maybe if you push a little harder, he’ll tell you what’s wrong. maybe he’ll go back to being the seunghyun you know. but he doesn’t. so eventually, you stop. because there’s only so many times you can knock on a closed door before you realize no one’s going to open it.

but fuck, you miss him. you miss seunghyun so much… in all the small, stupid ways that sneak up on you. you miss the way he used to walk you home after class, even when it was completely out of his way. how he’d always offer you his jacket without making a big deal out of it, just drape it over your shoulders. you miss how he’d send you voice notes instead of texts when he was tired, his voice soft and half-laughing as he complained about his day. like how he accidentally bought decaf coffee and didn’t realize until he’d already had two cups. or when he got locked out and had to convince the neighbor to let him climb across their balcony to reach his window—commentary and all, like he was narrating his own survival special. you miss sitting next to him during boring lectures, passing notes like you were in high school again—little doodles, sarcastic comments, the occasional ‘want to skip and get tteokbokki?’ scrawled in messy handwriting. how he’d always save you a seat beside him, even when he didn’t need to. you miss sharing your music with him, like that rainy afternoon you spent at the bus stop together, both of you soaked and laughing, sharing one headphone while waiting for a bus that never came. you miss how he’d always remember the little things—your favorite candy, the name of that song you liked for two weeks straight, the way you hated talking on the phone but would answer when it was him.

you love your boyfriend. you do. you’ve fought for this relationship, worked through the rough patches, stayed when it would’ve been easier to walk away. so why does your heart feel so heavy when you think about seunghyun? why do these stupid little memories of him make your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with losing a friend? and then it hits you. you were starting to fall for seunghyun. the realization slams into you like a truck, knocking the air right out of your lungs. your stomach twists, guilt rising up so fast it makes you dizzy. you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head as if that’ll get rid of the thoughts. it’s nothing. just stupid feelings messing with you because you miss seunghyun as a friend. that’s all. it has to be. but deep down, you know. you don’t want to deal with this. any of it. it makes you sick. you try to shove it down, bury it deep where it can’t touch you. but the more you try to push it away, the worse it gets. anger starts to creep in, and you start resenting seunghyun. resentment is easier. that’s what you tell yourself. it’s easier than facing the awful, sinking truth—that you like him. that, somewhere along the way, he started meaning too much. so you turn that feeling into something bitter. it’s easier to hate him for pushing you away without an explanation.

you don’t say hi when you pass each other on campus. he doesn’t either. you just walk by like two people who never meant a damn thing to each other. in class, is where it’s the worst. you’re stuck two rows apart, forced to exist in the same space, forced to hear his voice, and it pisses you off. everything about him pisses you off again now. so when the discussion turns to a painting you know he’s wrong about, you jump at the chance. “that’s not what it means,” you say. seunghyun pauses mid-sentence. his jaw tightens slightly. “i wasn’t talking to you.” “yeah, well, you’re still wrong.” you lean back in your seat, arms crossed, glare locked onto him. “the artist literally said in an interview that the painting was about grief, not isolation.” “and what, you suddenly know more than everyone now?” “i know how to read.” he exhales through his nose. “interpretation exists for a reason. it doesn’t have to mean just one thing.” “so your interpretation is just better than the artist’s own words? that makes total sense.” someone snickers a few seats over. the professor looks unimpressed but doesn’t step in. “are you done?” he asks. “no, i’m not,” you reply before stating your opinion and interpretation of the painting. seunghyun shakes his head, muttering something under his breath.

the bickering continues for months. that class turns into a battlefield, every discussion an excuse to dig into each other. it doesn’t even matter what the topic is anymore—if seunghyun says one thing, you find a way to contradict it. if you make a point, he challenges it. he acts like he doesn’t care, but he does. you see it in the way his jaw tightens when you cut him off. in the way his fingers drum against the desk when your words hit a little too hard. in the way his voice gets sharper, more clipped, when he finally bites back. good! you want him to feel as frustrated as you do, as angry as you do. but one day, when the class ends and you’re gathering your things ready to leave, you feel fingers wrap around your wrist. firm, but not rough. seunghyun. your breath catches. he’s barely touched you before, but now, he’s pulling you aside, out of the classroom, into the quieter hallway. “why are you doing this?” he asks, frustrated. you snatch your wrist out of his grasp. “doing what?” he lets out a slow breath. “you know what.” you do. of course you do. “you should know.” his eyes search yours before his shoulders drop slightly, and he steps back. “okay.” you scoff. “okay? that’s all you have to say?” “what else do you want me to say?” “i want an explanation.” the words snap out before you can stop them. “you just—you just left, seunghyun.” his jaw clenches. “that’s not—” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “nothing happened.” “what?” “nothing happened.” he repeats, like that somehow makes it better. “there’s no explanation. i just—” he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “it’s nothing.” “don’t lie.” “i’m not lying.” “yes, you are!” you snap. “you don’t just wake up one day and decide to cut someone out of your life for nothing.” he doesn’t say anything. you narrow your eyes. “was it because of her?” his brows furrow slightly. “what?” “your girlfriend.” you say, sharper this time. “is that why? she didn’t like me or something?” his whole posture stiffens. “no. that’s not—” he shakes his head. “this has nothing to do with her.” “then why?” “i don’t know what you want me to say.” “i want the truth.” “there’s no—” “you always complained about her not telling you what was wrong, even when you asked. now i’m asking you, hyun,” your voice sounds almost pleading. “i’m asking you to be fucking honest with me. did i do something wrong? i just—please. please, tell me.” for a split second, something flickers across his face. something real. but then it’s gone, buried under that frustrating, detached calm of his. seunghyun swallows, his gaze dropping to the floor. “i already told you. there’s nothing to explain.” and that’s when it really sinks in. he’s not going to tell you. he’s not going to give you answers. you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way your throat tightens. “okay,” you say quietly, almost in a whisper. “have a good day, seunghyun.”

when the academic year ends, you feel like you can finally breathe. the weight of seeing seunghyun every day finally lifts, and you don’t realize how much it was draining you until it’s gone. summer feels like a breath of fresh air. no classes to deal with, no more running into him on campus. you actually start to feel better. the long days blend into each other, and the heat is almost a relief, as if the sun can melt away the last remnants of all the mess that’s been building up inside you. you spend time with friends, with your boyfriend, with family, dive into your hobbies—things that make you feel again, instead of being stuck in that heavy, frustrating place you were in just a few months ago.

the day feels like any other. it’s one of those lazy summer days, the kind that stretches on, with no obligations in sight. you’re in the kitchen, a soft hum of music filling the space as you chop vegetables for your lunch. it’s a soothing task, one that lets you lose yourself in the rhythm while the world spins on without much thought. then, your phone rings. the sound slices through the calm, pulling your attention to the screen. the moment you see the name, your heart skips a beat. seunghyun. you freeze, knife halfway through slicing a carrot. the world feels like it slows down for a moment. it’s been months since you last heard from him, since that final conversation you thought would be the last. you can feel your breath catch in your chest as your mind races. why is he calling now? what could he possibly want? you stare at his name, watching the screen flash. your fingers hover over the phone, torn. there’s a part of you that wants to ignore it, to send him straight to voicemail. it would be easier, right? just let him stay in the past where he belongs. but another part of you wants to know why he’s calling. you’ll regret it if you don’t pick up.

with a sharp exhale, you swipe your finger across the screen. “hello?” your voice sounds smaller than you expected. there’s a long silence on the other end. you can hear faint sounds—shuffling, soft breaths, maybe a sniffle—and then, his voice cracks through, shaky and broken. “hey…” your stomach drops. there’s something wrong. something off in his tone. “seunghyun?” you whisper, suddenly feeling the weight of his name. he doesn’t respond right away, and you can hear him sniffle again. “i—” his voice cracks. “are you okay?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, panic creeping up your spine. there’s a long pause. you wait, heart pounding in your ears. and then, his voice comes, quieter this time. “no. i’m not okay.” you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the tension in his voice seeping into your bones. “what’s going on?” you ask, your words coming out urgent, concerned. “hyun, talk to me.” there’s a shaky breath on the other end before he finally speaks. “she cheated on me.” it’s the last thing you expected to hear. you swallow. “what? your girlfriend?” “i found out a couple days ago,” he continues, his words slow, like he’s choosing each one carefully. “she… she left her phone unlocked. and i didn’t mean to snoop i swear, but i saw messages—pictures, stuff i shouldn’t have seen. i knew something was off before, but seeing it…” you wince, not sure what to say. you can’t imagine what he must’ve been going through. “i’m sorry,” you say quietly, the words feeling too small. he lets out a shaky sigh, and you hear him breathe in like he’s trying to pull himself together. “yeah, well… it’s done now. we argued for days, but today, i… i ended it. it’s over.” “oh. i’m sorry, hyun, i… i don’t know what to say.” there’s a long pause, and when he speaks again, it’s with an almost defeated tone. “i… i didn’t mean to call you. i just—i don’t know,” he says, his words stumbling over each other. “i didn’t want to bother you. i-i shouldn’t have called. i don’t know why i did.” he’s almost apologizing, and the guilt in his voice makes you frown. “don’t hang up,” you say quickly, before you even think about it. “please don’t hang up.” “i’m sorry for calling you out of nowhere.” you feel a pang of sadness at his words. “it’s okay,” you reply. “you don’t have to apologize for calling. i’m here, okay? you can talk to me.”

seunghyun sits there, phone pressed to his ear, wondering how you can still be here for him after everything, after he pushed you away. the guilt eats at him, every part of him screaming that he doesn’t deserve to have someone like you by his side. “i thought you’d be done with me by now,” he says, almost in a whisper. you shake your head even though he can’t see you, your hand gripping the phone a little tighter. “we were friends, seunghyun,” you remind him, your voice gentle. “i know things got messed up, but… we were friends. best friends. and i told you i’d always be there for you.” you pause, chewing on your lower lip for a moment, before you finally say what you’ve been thinking. “if you want, i can come over. we can talk… or not talk. whatever you need.” you hold your breath, waiting for his response. there’s a long, stunned silence on the other end. “you want to see me?” he asks, like he can’t believe it. “yeah, of course.” “i don’t deserve your help.” “you do. please, let me.” there’s a slight hesitation before he speaks again. “okay. i won’t keep you long. i don’t want to be a burden.” “you’re not,” you assure him. “give me an hour and i’ll be there.”

as soon as you reach his place, you knock lightly, your heart hammering in your chest. the door creaks open a few seconds later. he looks awful. his eyes are red and swollen, his hair messy. he’s in a hoodie that hangs loosely on his frame, and the exhaustion in his face makes him look smaller. for a moment, neither of you move. no words are exchanged. then, without overanalyzing, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. he tenses at first, like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he just… melts. his arms tighten around you, his face burying into your shoulder as his body shakes. and then, quietly, he starts crying. you feel his tears soak into your shirt but you don’t pull away. you just hold him, one hand running soothingly over his back.

you spend the entire summer trying to pull seunghyun out of the darkness he’s buried himself in. he barely leaves his house, barely eats unless you remind him, barely sleeps. and you can’t stand it. you can’t stand seeing him like this—so broken. so you do what you can. you show up. every single day. some days, it’s just sitting with him in comfortable silence, letting him exist without forcing him to talk. other days, you try to drag him outside, finding little excuses to get him moving. “come on,” you tell him one afternoon, standing in his living room with your hands on your hips. “let’s go get ice cream.” he’s curled up on the couch, hood pulled over his head, despite the unbearable heat outside. you’re not surprised—he once told you he likes to be covered up. “i’m good,” he mumbles, not even looking at you. you roll your eyes and walk over, grabbing the hood and yanking it off. “no, you’re not, liar. you haven’t left this room in days. come on, seunghyun. you love ice cream.” he sighs, rubbing his face. “i’m not in the mood.” “that’s exactly why we’re going.” you grab his arm, pulling until he finally gets up.

one day you even made him dance with you. it was late, music playing softly from your speakers. you were already swaying to the beat, grinning at him from across the room. “come on, dance with me.” he scoffed, arms crossed. “yeah, no.” “why not?” “because i don’t dance.” you rolled your eyes. “don’t lie. you literally have like five videos on instagram of you dancing in front of your mirror.” “that’s different,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “is it?” you raised an eyebrow. “what about that time you started dancing in the middle of the crosswalk because that one guy’s car stereo was blasting usher?” he tried to suppress a smile, but failed. “okay, that doesn’t count either. i was just being silly.” “be silly with me now, then. everyone dances, hyun.” you stepped closer and grabbed his wrists, trying to tug him away from the wall. he resisted at first, feet planted like a grumpy little kid, but you didn’t let up. until finally, with a dramatic sigh, he let you pull him toward the center of the room. “this is dumb,” he grumbled. “you’re dumb,” you shot back. “just move.” at first he was stiff, awkward, his shoulders tense and eyes focused anywhere but on you. but you didn’t care. you kept swaying, guiding him with a light grip and a grin, your voice humming along with the music. and slowly he loosened up. just a little. “see? not so bad.” he let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, his eyes flicking down to you, soft around the edges. like he wanted to argue, but didn’t have it in him. not when it was you.

eventually, he started coming back to himself. making jokes like he used to. but the first time you heard his real laugh again, after months, it nearly made you jump out of your seat. it happened at his house. you were sprawled out on his couch, flipping through a magazine, when you made an offhand comment about his wardrobe. “you literally have like three hoodies. and you wear them every day.” “rude,” he said flatly. “i have five.” you snorted. “right. and they all look exactly the same.” “it’s called having a brand.” “your brand is sad boy chic.” he tried to hold it in, pressing his lips together like that would stop it—but the laugh still slipped out. your eyes widened. “oh my god.” you sat up, staring at him. “are you laughing?” he shook his head, even as his mouth twitched up. “i’m not.” and then another chuckle escaped. your grin stretched wide. “you are!” he groaned, running a hand down his face. “shut up.”

one evening, you’re both out on his balcony, the sun just having dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of deep orange and purple in the sky. the air is warm but cooling down, the distant hum of the city below mixing with the occasional rustling of leaves. seunghyun leans against the railing, cigarette between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dim light. he takes a slow drag, exhaling the smoke into the evening air before wordlessly handing it to you. you hesitate for half a second before taking it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling just enough for the burn to settle in your lungs. you pass it back, watching as he taps the ash over the edge of the railing, gaze distant. he hasn’t said much in the past few minutes, which isn’t unusual, but there’s something about his silence that feels different. after a while, he sighs. “i need to tell you something.” you straighten a little, looking at him. “what is it?” “i think… i think i owe you an explanation,” he says. your stomach tightens. you know exactly what he means. “you don’t have to,” you reply, even though you’ve spent months dying to know. “i wasn’t honest with you back then. and… i want to be.” he pauses, rolling the cigarette between his fingers, gaze fixed on the darkened skyline. “the reason i… the reason i stopped talking to you is because—” he hesitates, jaw clenching. “because i liked you,” he finally says. your breath catches. “what?” he turns his head slightly, just enough to glance at you. “i liked you. as more than a friend.” but even now, standing here with the truth hanging between you, he knows he’s still holding back. liked—he said it like it was past tense, like it was something he’d moved on from. but that’s a lie. he still does. you don’t know what to say. don’t even know what to feel. “seunghyun…” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “i had a girlfriend. you had a boyfriend… well, you still do.” his voice drops at that last part. he clears his throat, looking away again. “i loved her. and it was wrong. so i told myself that those feelings for you would go away if i put enough space between us.” your fingers tighten around the railing. your voice is barely above a whisper when you ask, “did it work?” “no.”

silence settles between you. you want to admit it, too. that you felt the same thing. but where would that even get you? you’re still in a relationship. and you love your boyfriend (at least that’s what you tell yourself…) you know better. you can’t complicate things again now. so instead, you force yourself to ask, “why are you telling me this, hyun?” he frowns. “i don’t know, i just—i thought you should know.” he pauses. “i’m sorry for disappearing like that.” “it’s okay—” “no, it’s not.” he sighs. “i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t have cut you off. i hurt you and you didn’t deserve that.” the guilt has been sitting in his chest for so long, pressing down on him every time he thought about you—which was always. you know you should be angrier, that you should make him sit with the weight of what he did a little longer. but the truth is, you missed him. you missed him so much it ached. “yeah,” you say quietly, “you did hurt me. but i get it, hyun.” he frowns slightly. “you were confused. and scared.” and you know that, because that’s exactly how you felt too. “but that doesn’t justify—” “seunghyun.” you cut off, shaking your head. “no it doesn’t justify it, but you apologized. i forgive you. it’s okay. don’t be—don’t be hard on yourself.” oh man. he wonders what he did in another life to deserve you being so good to him in this one. “i’m sorry too,” you continue with a smile tugging at your lips. “for snapping at you all the time in class.” he lets out a small laugh. “it’s okay,” he replies, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “i thought it was kinda cute.” “cute?” you snort. “yeah. but don’t worry,” he says, forcing a smirk, like he’s trying to play it off. “it’s in the past. we’re good friends.” and for some reason, that stings.

summer ends before you even realize it. the warmth starts to fade, the days growing shorter, the air losing its heaviness. you’re back on campus, slipping into the routine of lectures and assignments. but everything shifts—just a few days into the new academic year, it all comes crashing down. the fight with your boyfriend starts like any other argument. but then, somewhere in the middle of it, he snaps. says something he can’t take back. something that makes your stomach drop. he’s slept with multiple girls behind your back. you don’t remember what you said after that. don’t remember how the argument ended. all you know is that it’s over. and now, somehow, the tables have turned. it’s seunghyun showing up at your door this time, no hesitation in his eyes when he pulls you into a hug the second he sees your face. it’s him dragging you out of your house when you don’t want to move, sitting with you in coffee shops and parks and anywhere that isn’t your room, distracting you with dumb jokes and conversations about nothing. it’s him texting you at random hours, u good? or let’s go get food or just a simple i’m outside when you need it the most. he doesn’t push you to talk. doesn’t force you to open up. he just stays—sits beside you when you don’t feel like speaking, lets you cry when you need to. and slowly, piece by piece, he starts pulling you back together.

by the time october rolls around, you’re a new person. the heartbreak doesn’t sting anymore, the anger has dulled, and you’re genuinely happy after what feels like a lifetime. seunghyun has a lot to do with that. and maybe that’s why, when the invitation for a halloween party from some classmates rolls in, it doesn’t feel so strange that you and seunghyun are each other’s default plus-one. the house is packed, every room overflowing with people. music booms from the speakers, the bass so heavy it vibrates through the floor, making the half-empty bottles on the kitchen counter tremble. laughter and shouting fill the space, blending with the music, with the sound of ice clinking in cups, with the occasional crash of something breaking followed by a drunken chorus of “ooohhh!” you and seunghyun arrive together, dressed in matching costumes—him as an astronaut, you as the moon. your dress is a soft, silvery white, made of a flowing fabric that shimmers with every step, catching the dim party lights. the bodice is scattered with tiny embroidered stars, and the skirt has a subtle iridescence, shifting between silver and pale blue as you move. your jewelry is just as delicate—dangling earrings shaped like crescent moons. atop your hair sits a headband, adorned with silver moons and twinkling stars. seunghyun had grinned when he saw you, adjusting the nasa patch on his astronaut suit before reaching out to spin you in place.

you don’t separate when you step inside. instead, his hand stays on the small of your back. someone shoves drinks into your hands the second you reach the kitchen—something bright and sugary, probably way too strong—but neither of you mind. a group is playing beer pong in the living room, another is huddled around a tiny table, laughing over some drinking game with cards. in the corner, someone’s passed out in a vampire cape, an empty bowl of candy resting on their lap. the night moves in a blur. you and seunghyun barely leave each other’s side, moving together through the party, dancing till his hair starts sticking to his forehead from sweat. between songs, you weave through the party together, stopping to talk to friends, laughing at half-drunken conversations, clinking cups and playing games. someone compliments your matching costumes, and seunghyun just grins, tugging playfully at the fabric of your dress. “told you we’d have the best costumes. i mean, what’s an astronaut without his moon?”

eventually, the heat and the crowd become too much, and seunghyun leans in close, voice just loud enough over the music. “let’s go outside for a bit.” you follow him through the packed room and out the back door, the chilly night air biting at your skin. the backyard is quiet compared to the chaos inside, just the faint murmur of distant conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. seunghyun pulls a cigarette from his pocket, then offers you one without a word. you take it, watching as he lights his first, the glow flickering against his face before he leans in to light yours. you take a slow drag before exhaling. “having fun?” he asks. you smirk. “define fun.” he chuckles, shaking his head. “you took more shots than me earlier. you’re definitely drunk.” “tipsy,” you correct, nudging him with your elbow. “big difference.” he hums in response, taking a drag of his own. for a moment, there’s only silence, the two of you standing side by side, watching the way the smoke curls into the cold air. “the party is actually good,” he says. “way better than i expected. i was killing it at beer pong.” “you lost.” “okay, but it was a close game.” you shake your head, laughing. “so this is a ten out of ten night for you?” “pretty much,” he grins. “good music, free booze, and…” he hesitates for a second before saying, “you. what more could i want?” you feel warmth creep up your neck, but you keep your expression neutral, taking a slow drag of your cigarette. “drunk flirty hyun… that’s new.” he scoffs, shaking his head. “that wasn’t—” he starts, but then he stops, like he realizes mid-sentence that there’s no point in denying it. instead, he exhales, flicking ash off his cigarette. “i was just being honest.” he takes another drag, exhaling slowly after, watching the way the smoke drifts into the cold air before his gaze drifts back to you. he’s so screwed. because you’re smiling, the glow of the party lights casting this ridiculous golden halo around you. your lips are glossy, your smile lifting your cheeks, making you look even cuter, and your hair—god, your hair—looks so soft he has to physically stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through it. you’re beautiful. and he’s so stupidly in love. you turn to look at him, brows raising slightly. “what?” you ask, amusement flickering in your eyes. seunghyun blinks, realizing too late that he’s been staring. “nothing,” he says, a little too quickly, taking another drag of his cigarette like that’ll somehow make him look less obvious. you tilt your head, the corner of your lips quirking up. “you sure?” you press, watching him. seunghyun hesitates for half a second, then just smiles, soft and a little shy. “yeah. just… spaced out for a second.” “mhmm,” you hum, clearly unconvinced, but you don’t push. instead, you take another slow drag of your cigarette. after a moment, you flick the end of it away, stretching slightly. “wanna go back in?” he nods. “yeah.” “only if you take another shot with me.” seunghyun huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. “figured there was a catch.” “come on, hyun,” you grin, tugging at his sleeve. “just one more.” and he’s already moving, already following you back inside, because he’s so far gone for you it’s pathetic.

after a couple of hours, when the party starts to lose its spark and exhaustion settles in, he leans in, voice low near your ear. “you wanna head out?” you nod, stretching your arms with a yawn. “yeah, just need to grab my coat. left it in one of the rooms.” he doesn’t say anything, just follows when you turn to go. the house is still loud, music pulsing from the main room, but out here in the hallway, it’s quieter, the chatter more distant. you push open the door to a small room, stepping inside. your coat is draped over the back of a chair, right where you left it. seunghyun’s inside too, standing just a few steps away. you shake out your coat, ready to slip it on, but before you can, he steps closer. “here,” he offers, voice quieter now, more careful. “let me.”

you hesitate for half a second before nodding, handing it over. he takes it gently, holding it open as you slide your arms through the sleeves. his hands brush against your shoulders as he settles it into place, a touch so light it barely lingers, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. neither of you move right away. you can feel him behind you, his warmth, the way he still hasn’t stepped back. slowly, you turn to face him. his gaze flickers over you, taking you in like he’s memorizing every detail. then, so quietly it almost disappears into the space between you, he says, “do you wanna know what i was thinking before? when we were outside?” you hum in response, nodding slightly. “i was thinking… you’re beautiful. you’re so, so beautiful.” “you’re drunk,” you say, but it comes out quieter than you intended. he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. “i know what i’m saying.” you hold his gaze, fingers curling inside your sleeves. “you sure?” you laugh softly. his voice is quieter when he speaks again. “yeah. it’s not a bad thing. thinking you’re beautiful… calling you beautiful.” his gaze flickers, dropping briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. “you shouldn’t look at me like that,” you say. he steps just the slightest bit closer, gaze never leaving yours. “like what?” “like that,” you mutter, looking away. he’s quiet for a moment, then—“maybe you should stop looking at me like that, too.” your eyes snap back to his, heart pounding in your chest. “i’m not,” you argue, but it’s unconvincing. he smiles. “yes, you are.” you blink, heat spreading through your cheeks. “hyun…” you start, but the words catch in your throat. his smile lingers. “what?” “don’t do that.” “do what?” “act like you know what’s going on in my head.” his expression softens just slightly, but there’s something careful in the way he tilts his head, watching you. “don’t i?” of course he does. it’s infuriating, really, the way he can pick apart your thoughts without you saying a word. his eyes search yours, and then, he studies you for a long moment, like he’s trying to decide if he should even say what he’s about to say at all. but the words escape his lips before he can stop them. “i still have feelings for you.” “hyun—” “they never went away,” he cuts in. “you never noticed?” “i don’t—i don’t know.” “i thought you did,” he murmurs. “sometimes, it felt like you did. but maybe i was just seeing what i wanted to see.” he pauses. “sorry, i don’t want to make things weird, i know the breakup is recent for you, i just—i needed to say it,” his voice is quieter now, like he’s already made peace with whatever answer he thinks is coming. you glance up at him and he looks like he’s already preparing himself for the worst. and that’s what does it. that’s what makes the words slip past your lips before you can overthink them. “i… i do too.” “what?” “i have feelings for you too,” you say. “for a while now.” his expression softens, something flickering in his gaze—relief. “really?” “mhm.” you nod with a shy smile.

he exhales, like he’s been holding in the breath this whole time. and then, before you can process it, he takes a step closer, hand reaching up to brush against your cheek, gentle. your breath stutters as his face inches closer, his eyes flickering to your lips, giving you time to pull away if you want to. but you don’t. except, just as his lips nearly graze yours, panic flares in your chest, and you instinctively turn your head. “wait—” he freezes immediately, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “oh. sorry. too fast?” “no, no.” “what’s wrong?” you press your lips together. “i just… i haven’t kissed anyone other than my ex before.” your voice is small, embarrassed. “i don’t know—i don’t know how to do this. i’m nervous.” his brows lift slightly before a small smile tugs at his lips, understanding. “you think i have?” “what?” “you’re the only person i’ve liked other than my ex. i haven’t kissed anyone either.” the confession eases some of the nerves coiled in your stomach. “it’s okay to be nervous,” he says softly. “we don’t have to rush anything.”

you chew on your bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel a little braver. seunghyun hesitates, then asks, “do you want to try?” he’s waiting—patient, not pushing, just letting you decide. and that just makes you want it more. “yes.” your voice is quiet. “i want to try.” his lips twitch up in a small smile, and he nods once. his gaze dips to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again, waiting for you to make the first move. you take a shaky breath before you lean in. it’s barely a kiss, just the softest press of your lips against his. you pull back almost immediately, nerves sparking in your chest. he stays close, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at each other. “you okay?” he murmurs. you nod quickly, cheeks burning. “yeah.” a small, shy smile on your lips. his own smile widens just a little. “can we—can we try again?” you whisper. this time, when you lean in, he meets you halfway. the second kiss is different. his lips fit against yours like they were always meant to. you feel his hand slide to the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing your skin so delicately that it makes your stomach flip. your fingers find the fabric of his costume, curling slightly as you let yourself lean into him, let yourself fall into the moment. the kiss deepens naturally, neither of you rushing, just learning each other in quiet, stolen seconds. he tilts his head slightly, and the shift makes it even better—your lips molding together, the warmth of him surrounding you. his nose brushes against yours as you part. your lashes flutter open, meeting his gaze. “was that okay?” he murmurs. you let out a breathless laugh, nodding. “more than okay.” “good.” he laughs too.

you spend more time with each other after that night, if that’s even possible. it becomes routine. you wake up expecting to see him at some point in the day. if you don’t, it feels off, like something’s missing. sometimes, you’ll spend hours together without saying much, just existing in the same space. other times you’ll talk for hours, trading secrets you’ve never told anyone, laughing until your stomachs hurt. seunghyun is so in love. oh, so in love… sometimes, when he’s lying awake at night, staring at his ceiling, he feels almost angry at himself—for waiting so long, for not realizing sooner. he thinks about the time he wasted, stuck in something that was never meant to last, convincing himself that love was supposed to be hard, that it was supposed to be painful and exhausting. but with you, it’s so fucking easy. he’s starting to believe what people say. first love is beautiful, sure. but second love? second love is real. second love is unforgettable. seunghyun is down bad. your presence alone is enough to set every nerve in his body on fire. and when you laugh—god, when you laugh—he thinks he could live off that sound alone. and maybe it’s crazy, but sometimes, he finds himself thinking—this is it, isn’t it? this is the kind of love people write about. he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that no one—not his first love, not anyone—has ever made him feel like this. he’s never felt love like this before. but he never wants to go another day without it. without you.

the way you kiss him it’s intoxicating. seunghyun has kissed before, obviously. with you, it’s different. because when you do, slow, like you’re savoring every second, it makes his head spin more than anything else ever has. because the way you pull back just to look at him, eyes flickering between his—your hands on him, like you need to be touching him—makes his chest ache in the best way. makes him feel like the most important person in the world. sometimes, it starts soft, just a lingering press of lips. other times, it’s urgent. but you don’t push for more, and neither does he. not because you don’t want to, but because that’s already enough.

that’s why he doesn’t expect that, one day, while you’re making out on his couch, you straddle him—your knees pressing into the couch on either side of him, your hands settling on his shoulders. and seunghyun? he forgets how to breathe. his brain short-circuits. like, completely shuts down. his hands hover awkwardly at your waist, fingers twitching, unsure if he should actually touch you or just die right then and there. because holy shit. you don’t seem to notice his internal crisis, too caught up in the moment, too focused on the way his lips and tongue move against yours. but he notices—notices the way your body presses flush against his, the way your weight settles onto his lap, the way your fingers thread into his hair, tugging slightly. his self-control? hanging by a thread. your breath is uneven when you pull back to meet his gaze, your lips a little swollen. “is this okay?” you ask, voice soft. he exhales, hands smoothing over your waist. “yeah,” he breathes. “is it okay for you?” “mhm,” you nod.

you kiss him again, and this time, it’s different. it’s charged. seunghyun feels it in the way your hands slide from his shoulders to the nape of his neck. he feels it in the way your lips move against his. but most of all, he feels it when you shift in his lap, pressing down. just the slightest movement. he inhales sharply, his grip on your waist tightening as his body tenses beneath you. it’s not even really a movement, more of a hesitant roll of your hips against his, but fuck, it sends heat straight to the bulge in his pants. his brain barely has time to process what’s happening before you do it again. this time, he can’t stop the quiet groan that slips past his lips, low and almost pained, his hands digging into your hips on instinct.

he lets you. lets you move against him however you want, lets himself feel you. your movements start slow, almost experimental, like you’re figuring this out as you go, like you’re getting used to the feel of him beneath you. but when you find a rhythm—when you finally press against him fully, rolling your hips down just right—oh boy. his head tips back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut, a shaky breath slipping past his lips. he’s done for. you lean in, pressing a kiss just under his jaw, and he groans, low in his throat, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass like he’s trying to keep himself together. “fuck,” he mutters, half to himself, half to you. “you’re gonna kill me.” you smile against his skin, and it’s unfair, so unfair, because you know what you’re doing to him. you know, and you keep going. the friction is perfect—every movement sending a pulse of heat through his body, enough to drive him crazy, enough to have his dick twitching in his pants.

his breathing comes out in short, uneven gasps as he grits his teeth, trying to hold on, trying to stay in control. but he can’t. because the way you sound—soft, breathy little moans escaping your lips—paired with the friction of you against him? it’s too fucking much. he’s already so close, already on the edge before he even realizes it. and when you press down just right, his stomach tightens. “shit—!” his whole body tenses as the pleasure hits him, crashing over him before he can stop it. his breath catches in his throat, a choked moan slipping past his lips, his fingers gripping your ass hard. he stills completely, chest rising and falling against yours, and it takes a second before he realizes what just happened. he ruined his pants. fuck. his face burns as the reality sets in. you blink at him, confused at first, before realization dawns in your expression. “oh.” seunghyun groans, tilting his head back, dragging his hands down his face, mortified. “don’t.” his voice is muffled against his palms. “don’t say anything.” but it’s too late. you giggle, and that just makes his ears go even redder. you lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and whisper, “cute.” “i’m sorry,” he says, embarrassed. “it’s okay, baby,” you giggle again. after a moment, he laughs too.

the physical side of your relationship isn’t something either of you are shying away from anymore. the kisses get longer. deeper. and there’s more touching now. it starts happening more often, too. you’re figuring each other out, taking your time. memorizing the way each other moves, the way each other reacts. you’re learning him, and he’s learning you.

it’s natural that you start wanting more. that’s why, one night, late in his room, you find yourself lying beneath him, bodies tangled in his sheets. hands are everywhere. his lips leave yours only to trail down your jaw, down your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. he loves this—loves the way you shiver, loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly when he nips at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “seunghyun,” you breathe, and he swears he could die happy right now. his hands slide lower, fingers on your right thigh. you shift beneath him, pressing closer, sighing when his hand finally trails higher. his fingers move along the fabric between your legs. his touch featherlight, barely-there, but still enough to make you squirm. oh lord jesus, he nearly loses it right there. “you’re so fucking pretty,” he mutters against your skin. “my pretty, pretty girl.” you’re warm and soft, reacting to every little touch, every slow drag of his fingers. he can feel your heartbeat beneath his mouth as he kisses along your throat, your chest rising and falling a little too fast. his own breathing is just as uneven as yours now. he’s so hard it’s almost embarrassing. “tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs. “i’ll give you anything, just—” “touch me, seunghyun,” you say softly. oh, you don’t need to tell him twice! he unbuttons your pants, sliding them down slowly. his fingers hook into the waistband, knuckles brushing against your hips as he tugs the fabric down, past your thighs, past your knees, until they’re bunched at your ankles. he takes his time pulling them off completely. his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your underwear next, dragging them down until they’re gone.

his hand goes right back where you want it. two of his fingers slide against you, teasing. feeling exactly how wet you are for him. the way your juices coat his fingertips, makes him groan, the sound vibrating low in his throat. his thumb drags over your clit, rubbing slow circles, and the reaction is immediate—your breath catches, your thighs twitch and your hips jerk slightly, a soft moan escaping your lips. oh that sound… his cock throbs in his jeans. “tell me if it’s too much. or if you want more.” your response comes fast—a shaky, desperate whisper. “more.” you beg, voice trembling. “more, seunghyun.” “more what, baby?” he teases, his thumb still working your clit. you whimper. “y-your fingers.” he chuckles softly, one of his fingers gently parting your folds before he pushes it in, sinking into your pussy with no resistance. “like this?” you nod, biting your lip. he begins pumping his finger slowly in and out and your breath comes faster, mingling with the wet sounds of his finger fucking you. when he adds another finger, your hands grip his arms, trying to hold onto something. he watches you, completely transfixed by how beautiful you look right now—lips parted, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “that feel good, hm?” he asks as he curls his fingers inside you, pressing against that one spot “y-yes! o-oh my—!” so he gives you more. his fingers thrust deeper and faster, curling just right, and your moans turn into whimpers. your thighs tremble and seunghyun can feel how close you are, how your body is tensing, your gummy walls squeezing his fingers. “hyun, i-i’m—i’m gonna—!” “i know, baby… give it to me.” one more thrust of his fingers, one more firm stroke of his thumb against your clit and your back arches—a sharp, desperate moan spilling from your lips—your body shuddering, clenching down around his fingers. he gives you a moment to catch your breath before he leans in. he presses a kiss to your forehead. “next time,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing another kiss, “i’m using my mouth.”

and he keeps his promise! it happens on a lazy sunday morning, right before your scheduled museum date. he shows up at your place a few minutes early, too excited to see you, too impatient to wait. maybe he had good intentions, but the second he sees you in that dress… he almost wishes to be a father. because what the fuck—you just look so good. soft and pretty, hair still slightly messy from getting ready in a rush, your perfume fresh in the air… his hands are on you before he even realizes it, pulling you in by the waist. you blink up at him, confused at first, lips parted, breath hitching slightly at the way he’s looking at you. that man is hungry. and he shows it with his kisses. “we—” you try to speak in between them. “we’re gonna be late—” “don’t care, i wanna taste you,” he mutters against your lips, hands sliding beneath the hem of your dress. “can i?”

and not even three minutes later, his head is buried between your thighs, his grip firm as he holds you in place. the first taste of you nearly ruins him—his low groan vibrating against your skin as his tongue works with a hunger that borders on desperate. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging when he flattens his tongue against you. “s-seunghyun!” you moan loudly. music to his ears. he loves the way you whimper, the way your body shudders when he flicks your clit with his tongue, then sucking it just enough to make your thighs tremble. his grip on them is borderline bruising, but you don’t care—not when he’s got his mouth on you like this. “fuck, you taste so good,” he mutters against you, breath hot, voice thick with need. “so fuckin’ sweet.” “y-you always this needy?” you manage to tease, but your voice is shaky. he chuckles. “says the one trying to suffocate me with her thighs.” you open your mouth to fire back, but he circles your clit with his tongue, and whatever you were about to say turns into a sharp gasp. he grins against you, pleased with himself. and god, you’re already so close. he can feel it in the way your body tenses, the way your legs try to close around his head, the way your breath stutters into these soft, broken little moans. but he’s not done. he slides one hand up, fingers teasing at your entrance before slowly sliding inside. “fuck! f-fuck, hyun!” you cry from pleasure. “yes—ngh!—y-yes, baby, just like that! just like that!” your whole body jerks as his fingers move in perfect rhythm, tongue working you over even faster. “c’mon, baby,” he coaxes, pulling away just for a moment. “be good for me.” and that’s it. you choke on a moan, back arching as pleasure crashes through you. you cum on his tongue and he works you through it. licking and sucking even when your thighs shake. and when you try to pull away from the overstimulation, he doesn’t let up—not until he’s sure he’s gotten every last drop of it. finally, he pulls back, lips slick, eyes dark as he looks up at you, taking in the mess he’s made of you. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking before crawling up to press soft kisses to your jaw, your cheeks, the corner of your lips—gentle, like he’s trying to bring you back down. “you okay?” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “mhm,” you nod, still breathless. “yeah… just feel like jello.” he chuckles. “you’re so cute.” there’s something soft in the way he’s looking at you. your heart stutters, warmth blooming in your chest. “you’re such a sap,” you tease. he just grins, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “only for you.”

when valentine’s day rolls around, seunghyun makes sure you have the best one yet. he remembers—of course, he does—how you once mentioned that your ex never really cared about it, brushing off the day like it meant nothing. seunghyun, though, he isn’t like that. so when you walk through the door after a long day at university, you almost miss it at first. your brain is too tired to register the burst of color sitting on the living room table. but then, your eyes land on it, and for a second, you think you’ve walked into the wrong place. a massive bouquet of flowers sits right in the center, petals soft and vibrant like they belong in a fairytale. two—no, three—boxes of chocolate are stacked neatly beside it, ribbons tied in perfect bows. you blink, then blink again. “what the…” you murmur, stepping closer, fingertips grazing the velvety petals. there’s a small note tucked between the stems, and when you pull it out, your lips part into a slow, disbelieving smile. ‘because you deserve to be spoiled. i’ll pick you up for dinner (make sure to wear that beautiful smile of yours). happy valentine’s day, baby. — your hyun.’ you don’t even realize you’re smiling so hard until your cheeks start to hurt. warmth spreads through your chest, making you feel a little ridiculous, a little too giddy, but you don’t care. grabbing your phone, you call him immediately. “hi, baby—” “you’re insane,” you cut in, still staring at the bouquet. “this is—seunghyun, what the fuck?” his soft chuckle comes through the speaker, warm and just a little shy. “so, you liked it?” “liked it?” you echo, shaking your head. “i love it. i—how did you even—when did you—ugh. you didn’t have to, baby.” “i wanted to. your parents helped me set it up.” his voice is so sure, so simple, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and maybe it is—to him, at least. “thank you.” your fingers play with the edge of the little note, eyes flicking over the words again. “did you read the note?” he asks. “yeah,” you nod, even though he can’t see you. “i read it. where are you taking me?” “surprise.” “hyun—” “you’ll see later.” “i need to know so that i can—” “huh? wait—hold on, i think you’re cutting out.” his voice suddenly sounds distant, like he’s holding the phone away from his mouth. “hello? can you hear me?” you narrow your eyes. “don’t even start.” “ah, damn. i think my signal’s bad.” he makes a few static noises with his mouth, so ridiculously fake you almost drop your phone from laughing. “you’re a dork, you know that?” more static—or at least his sad attempt at it. “what? i—i can’t—losing connection—” “seunghyun, you’re literally at home.” he clears his throat. “gotta go, baby, see you at seven!” the call ends before you can say another word. you stare at your screen, completely unimpressed, but also grinning like an idiot. he’s gonna be the end of you.

he takes you to one of the fanciest restaurants you’ve ever been in, which makes you wonder how the hell he managed to afford all this. but knowing him, he’s probably been saving up for weeks, quietly planning everything down to the last detail. dinner feels like time slowing down in the best way. seunghyun watches you more than he eats, eyes crinkling whenever you ramble about something or get too caught up in telling a story. and when the check comes, you barely get the chance to reach for your purse before seunghyun is already handing over his card, like every time you go out. stepping outside, the cool air wraps around you, crisp and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant. seunghyun is close beside you, his hand brushing against yours before he finally just takes it, fingers slotting together. you squeeze his hand lightly, glancing up at him, but he’s already looking at you, eyes soft under the glow of the city lights.

as you settle into the car, seunghyun doesn’t start the engine right away. instead, he reaches into the pocket of his coat. you stare at him, curious, but before you can ask, he pulls out a small, velvet box and holds it out to you. “i got you something,” he smiles, voice a little quieter than usual. “what—? hyun—” “shh, let me spoil you,” he chuckles. your fingers hesitate for a second before you take it, the soft material cool against your palm. your chest tightens slightly as you flip it open, revealing a delicate necklace inside. the pendant is small, understated, but beautiful—exactly the kind of thing you’d pick for yourself. you exhale, running your thumb over the tiny charm. “oh my—i love it!” “i saw it and thought of you.” “it’s perfect, baby. thank you.” his lips twitch into a small smile. “let me put it on you.” you turn slightly, gathering your hair to one side as he takes the necklace from the box. he fastens it behind your neck, his fingers brushing lightly along the back of your shoulder. he lingers, adjusting the clasp, making sure it sits just right before letting his hands drop. you glance down, fingertips brushing over the pendant as a soft smile tugs at your lips. seunghyun leans back slightly, eyes flickering over you before settling on your face. “my pretty, pretty, pretty girl.” you shake your head with a small laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. “okay, your turn.” his brows furrow slightly. “my turn?” you reach into your bag, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package before placing it in his hands. “yeah. you didn’t think you were the only one with surprises tonight, did you?” “you got me something?” he’s not used to being on the receiving end of surprises. “of course, i did,” you say, handing it to him. “now, open it.”

as soon as the paper wrapper falls away, his expression shifts. a hardcover book with a deep, star-speckled cover. his fingers graze over the title—the art of the cosmos—a collection of celestial-inspired artwork, paintings, sculptures, and photography, all centered around space. he flips through the pages slowly, carefully, eyes taking in the images of galaxies captured in oil paint, nebulas carved into stone, planets sculpted from glass. “i know how much you love space,” you say, watching his reaction closely. “and art, of course. so… i wanted you to have something that combined the two things you love the most, something that feels like you. it’s not—it’s not as fancy as… everything that you’ve prepared but—” before you can finish, seunghyun leans in, pressing his lips to yours. when he finally pulls away, he stays close, forehead barely an inch from yours. “don’t ever say that again.” “say what?” “that it’s not—” he exhales, shaking his head. “you could’ve given me a damn rock, and i’d still love it because it’s from you.” your heart stumbles a little, and you let out a soft laugh. “this is perfect, baby,” he says, flipping through the pages again. “you’re really the best.” you smile, watching the way his eyes soften as he takes in every detail. “i’m just glad you like it.” he sets the book down carefully on the dashboard before turning fully toward you.

he smiles, but there’s something behind it—something hesitant, like he’s trying to work up the courage to say something else. his knee bounces slightly, and his fingers tap against his thigh, a sign that there’s more on his mind. you tilt your head. “what?” he exhales sharply, shaking his head before letting out a soft laugh. “nothing, just…” he looks down at your hand resting between you, then, as if on instinct, reaches for it. he rubs his thumb over your knuckles, staring at your joined hands for a second before finally speaking. “let me be your boyfriend,” he says. “i know we haven’t really put a name on what this is, but i want to. i want you. i don’t want there to be any doubt about where we stand.” you must’ve started smiling like an absolute idiot because the second he sees it, he starts smiling too. “seunghyun, you’ve been my boyfriend in my head for months now,” you laugh, shaking you head. “so… that’s a yes?” “of course it’s a yes!” without giving him time to react, you press a quick, fleeting kiss to his lips. but before you can even pull away, seunghyun tugs you back in, kissing you with a much deeper intensity. your lips part instinctively, letting him in, his tongue gliding against yours. your fingers find his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, thumb brushing gently over his cheek as you do everything in your power to keep from moaning into his mouth. he’s such a good kisser… his lips hot and soft against yours, tilting his head so that you fit just right… his lips leave yours only to trail along the corner of your mouth, before sliding down to your jaw. he takes his time, lingering there, and then he makes his way down. his face buries into the crook of your neck for a moment, and you can feel his smile against your skin. you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before pulling back just enough to look at him. “i love you,” he says. your lips part slightly, something swelling in your chest so big it almost hurts, and then you’re smiling. “i love you too, hyun.”

you can’t lie—loving seunghyun is kind of terrifying. not in a bad way, not in the he’s going to hurt me kind of way, but in the this is real and i don’t want to mess it up way. you’ve both been through it. cheated on, strung along, left to piece together whatever crumbs of affection your exes were willing to throw your way. it’s hard to unlearn that, hard to trust that someone wants you without expecting you to beg for it. and even though this is different—he’s different—it’s hard to shake the nerves, the fear that if you let yourself have this, really have it, something will go wrong. maybe that’s why, even now, after a long, perfect night, when you’re curled up with him on the couch, a movie playing but barely holding your attention, you still feel jittery. and when things start heating up (like they usually do) you feel embarrassingly new to it all. like you’re back at square one. like you’re a virgin all over again. “you’re shaking,” says seunghyun quietly, breath shuddering when his condom-wrapped tip presses slightly against your entrance. “we don’t have to do this—“ “i want to,” you reassure him. “i really do. i’m just… nervous.” intimacy can be scary, especially when it’s with someone new. “i know, baby. me too,” he admits. “i’ll go slow. just hold onto me.” so you do. your hands find his arms, gripping them lightly as he hovers over you, his eyes locked onto yours. “kiss me,” you whisper. he smiles before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. then, as he moves, as he pushes into you, a sharp gasp escapes your lips, breaking the kiss. your fingers tighten around his arms, nails pressing lightly into his skin as you adjust to the stretch, the way he fills you so completely. he’s holding himself back, he’s trying to let you set the pace. his lips brush against your jaw pressing soft kisses on your skin before he kisses the side of your neck. “hyun… you—” your words falter as he presses in deeper, your back arching instinctively. “shit! you feel so good.” “tell me what you need, baby,” he says. your body already knows the answer before your lips do. you move your hips slightly, urging him deeper, making him exhale. “deeper,” you reply. “and faster. please.”

the room turns into a mess—moans, heavy breathing, the sharp slap of skin against skin. seunghyun’s fucking into you like he’ll never get another chance, and all you can do is take it, legs wrapped tight around his waist, nails dragging down his back as he fills you over and over again. he leans in, mouth hot against your neck. “you like that, baby?” his teeth graze your skin before he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss just beneath your jaw. “y-yes!” he’s deep, so deep, hitting that perfect spot that makes your eyes roll back, your mouth falling open, too lost in the way he’s ruining you to say anything coherent. “can f-feel you squeezing me—a-ah! fuck, baby!” he moans. and the desperate sound you make back only seem to push him further, make him rougher. your body responds instinctively, meeting his thrusts, rolling your hips slightly against him. oh, fuck. oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s barely holding it together as it is hearing you moan under him like that, but that thing you just did? it almost sends seunghyun to an early grave. his hips snap into you harder, completely abandoning whatever self-control he thought he had, grip tightening on your hips so hard he’s pretty sure he’s leaving marks. “shit!—h-hyun! ah, fuck! f-fuck, y-yeah! baby, mmph!” you sound so fucking good, all needy and breathless, and he wants to loop it in his brain forever, build a shrine to the way you just moaned his name like that. he knew sex with you would be good, but this? this is some life-altering, religious experience type shit.

the pleasure is intense, rolling through you in waves so strong it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you start feeling your orgasm build up in your lower stomach. seunghyun’s entire body is tight. muscles straining, his thrusts turning more desperate, more frantic, because he can feel how close you are, the way your thighs are shaking, the way your moans are turning higher, almost pleading. and fuck, he’s so close… but he needs to take you with him. his grip shifts, one hand sliding between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. the second he rubs tight, messy circles over it, your whole body jerks beneath him, a gasp breaking from your lips. “that’s it, baby,” he breathes, “cum… cum with me.” your walls flutter around him, clenching so tight it nearly sends him into another dimension. and when you finally snap, it hits hard—your back arches, your thighs shake, and your moans are loud enough to make your neighbors hate you. thank god your parents aren’t home. seunghyun groans, slamming into you a few more times before he loses it, burying himself deep as he follows right after, cursing under his breath. for a second, all you can hear is the sound of your ragged breathing and the rapid thud of your heartbeat. his forehead drops against your shoulder, both of you still panting, his hands lazily running over your skin. his body feels wrecked in the best way, his mind still floating somewhere between reality and the aftershocks of the best orgasm he’s ever had. his lips press against your temple as your breathing slows. “come on, baby,” he murmurs. “let’s shower.” you groan in protest, making him chuckle. so fucking cute. he kisses your lips. “you wanna sleep like this?” he teases. you sigh dramatically, blinking up at him with that hazy, fucked-out look that makes his stomach clench. “fine, let’s go shower,” you laugh softly.

the bed is soft, the sheets cool against your skin as you sink into them, your body still warm from the shower. you barely have time to settle before seunghyun climbs in beside you, immediately pulling you against him. his arms wrap around your waist, tugging you close until your back is flush against his chest. his body is warm, solid, and when he exhales, you feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing against your spine. one of his hands slips beneath the hem of your shirt—his shirt, really—his fingertips tracing patterns along your stomach. his lips press against the back of your neck, soft, before he nuzzles into you, his nose brushing against your hair. you smile, closing your eyes. nothing else has ever felt this right. your fingers move against his hand, barely tracing over his skin, and he hums in response, shifting slightly to bury his face further into your hair. “comfy?” he murmurs, voice lower now, sleepier. “mmhm.” you squeeze his hand, barely awake. “you?” he presses another kiss to the back of your neck. “always. i love you.” “i love you too,” you whisper. “sleep, baby.” and right before you drift off, you feel it—his lips pressing one last kiss to the back of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

two years have passed. but it doesn’t feel like two years. it feels like forever. like there was never a version of your life before him, only with him. when you sleep together, mornings always start the same: seunghyun wakes up first, but he never gets out of bed before you. instead, he buries his face into your neck, pressing lazy kisses against your skin until you finally stir. you’ve built a life together in these little rituals—the way he always holds your hand when you walk anywhere, the way you sit between his legs on the couch when you watch movies, your back pressed against his chest, his arms locked around your waist. the way he’ll randomly pull you onto his lap while he’s studying at his desk, murmuring “i concentrate better like this.” knowing damn well he doesn’t. and talking about studies… you two can barely focus, study sessions always turn into giggling messes where he pretends to be paying attention to his notes but spends half the time sneaking glances at you instead. cramming for exams together is another challenge, he makes flashcards and tries to quiz you, only for you to distract him by climbing onto his lap, trailing kisses down his neck until he groans and tosses the cards aside. you’re both exhausted half the time, pulling all-nighters with caffeine and takeout, but he’s there, and that makes it bearable.

you travel together, not often but enough—weekend getaways, road trips that always start with him in control of the music and end with you fighting over who gets to dj. there was the time you went to a cabin in the mountains, curled up by the fireplace with wine, the two of you getting way too competitive over board games. or that one chaotic trip where you completely missed your bus, got lost trying to find your hotel, and ended up walking for miles in the rain. you were so close to breaking down, but seunghyun just pulled you into a convenience store, bought you a hot drink, and said, “we’ll figure it out, baby. we’re together, that’s what matters.” and somehow, it turned into one of your favorite memories.

his mom adores you. always sends you food, always texts you on random days asking how you’re doing. one time, she pulled out his baby pictures, and now you will never let him live them down. his dad always cracks jokes about how he’s never seen seunghyun this soft before. your family adores him too, inevitably hyping him up for any polite gesture, since they’re not used to you having someone so nice by your side (your last boyfriend was a questionable human being…) they always gush about how sweet seunghyun is, how he takes such good care of you.

two years of love slipping into every part of your life—small, everyday things turning into your things. you have a shared playlist called ‘let me spill your coffee’. it’s a mix of songs you love, songs that remind him of you, and stupid meme songs he adds just to annoy you. the bookshelf in the corner of your room is overflowing, pictures of the two of you and a few stuffed animals he’s gifted you shoved in between. a small framed picture sits on the very top shelf, one from a winter night when the world outside was covered in snow. you’re bundled up in his scarf while he stands behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. there are tiny snowflakes caught in his hair, and even through the blur of the picture, you can tell he’s smiling. there’s a strip of photo booth pictures tucked behind a stuffed bear he won for you at a carnival. in the first frame, you’re both grinning wide; in the second, he’s caught off guard as you surprise him with a kiss on the cheek. by the third, he’s laughing, and in the last one, he’s holding your face between his hands, pressing his forehead to yours. another picture taken on your second new year’s eve together. you’re curled up next to him on the couch, confetti still in your hair. he’s looking at you instead of the camera, a small, stupidly in-love smile on his face. you hadn’t noticed it at first, but when you did, it made your chest ache in the best way. and then, tucked behind a row of books, there’s the oldest one of all. the very first picture you ever took together, when you were only friends. it’s a little blurry, the lighting terrible, but you remember everything about that day. how he made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt. how you didn’t know then what you know now—that this would be the first of many.

above your bed, there’s a painting. one he made for you on your first anniversary. deep blues and purples, swirling together like a galaxy, with tiny flecks of gold scattered like stars. in the bottom corner, barely noticeable unless you look closely, he wrote ‘us’. you didn’t see it at first, but when you did, you nearly cried. the record player he bought you for your birthday sits by the window, a vinyl still on it from the last time he was over. and your toothbrush sits next to his in the cup by the sink. there’s also an extra charger on your nightstand—his, since he spends so much time at your house. there’s a worn-out polaroid tucked into the frame of your mirror, slightly bent at the edges from how many times you’ve taken it out to look at it. it’s your favorite picture of the two of you—summer night at the beach, your hair messy from the wind, his arm slung over your shoulders, both of you grinning like you have the entire world in your hands. because it felt like you did. and it still feels like you do. because somehow, even after all this time, nothing has faded. two years of love wrapped around your life, yet every touch, every glance, still feels like the first. and every single day, in a million different ways, you keep choosing each other.

i hope you enjoyed! thank you for reading <3

tag list: @kaerasti49

[ordinaryschmuck]

Win or Lose is Pixar Perfection

If we ranked Win or Lose in the same level as Pixar's film line-up, it would be in my top ten. Actually, make it top five. Maybe even top THREE. In fact, it might just be my absolute favorite thing that the studio has made in YEARS. And that is NO exaggeration.

The premise is simple, yet perfect. It's about a team of softball trying to...well, live life. Yes, there's a championship and a game to win, but only three characters really care about that. Everyone else is focused on the struggles they're going through as individuals, facing the trials and tribulations of being a child, a teenager, and even an adult. This is a series that's perfectly made for everyone of any age, with themes and stories that are simple enough for anyone to understand and even relate to. And it accomplishes that feat by having every episode focus on the perspective of a different character.

The concept of changing perspectives for each episode is brilliant and something that can ONLY work for a TV show. If this was a movie (And thank goodness it's not), the story wouldn't have worked as well. Not only would certain bits and scenes feel more repetitive than they are, but we either wouldn't get to see much of everyone's perspective to fit that hour in a half time limit Pixar's forced into, or we would have a mish-mash of everyone's perspectives switching out from one to the other. And the finale, while still very good, shows how chaotic the ladder option would be. So by making it a series, it allows the writers to really FOCUS on each character and VISUALLY tell us what they're experiencing. This plays into the show's theme of acknowledging the importance of others' perspective on things, getting to see how one character viewed an event in the story vs how someone else did. Like how Frank saw himself fully in control of his classroom while Kai and Rochelle saw him as a bit of an awkward doof. Or how Laurie saw Yuwen as completely dismissive over Rochelle claim that he liked her, only for Yuwen's episode to reveal that he panicked in saying he liked Taylor. Heck, even Ira's episode showed how in control and cocky Yuwen was in this situation, despite how panicked and nervous he really was. Everyone's perspective tells a different version of the same story, sometimes revealing stuff we wouldn't know just from one character's point of view. Frank's episode made it seem like Kai and Rochelle were the ones cheating, with Kai's anger seeming unjustified given the circumstances that she was caught doing something she shouldn't. But after seeing who Rochelle was REALLY trying to help, it makes Kai's frustration all the more understandable as she wasn't trying to cheat, she was just literally caught in the middle of Rochelle's scheme. Speaking of, I love how Rochelle's episode perfectly compliments her mother's, despite it actually contradicting. Rochelle believes she's the adult of the family, thinking Vanessa does nothing but goof off and focus on her phone and followers. Meanwhile, Vanessa views herself as the ultimate girlboss, doing her best job to take care of her kids and make sure they do a better job than she did in life, actually going as above and beyond as she can for them while keeping a self-image of confidence and positivity. And their perceptions of themselves only shatter when they start to see the truth in the other person and how serious the current situation became. It's very true to life in that regard. How WE experience things is vastly different to how everyone else does, and Win or Lose captures that idea MASTERFULLY, showing us how each character sees the world, the people around them, and, more importantly, how they see themselves.

Every episode feels like a mini-movie, with concepts and themes that feel like they could have made up for a feature film if Pixar wanted to. I mean, the first episode tackled the idea of anxiety, something Pixar JUST DID with their box office smash Inside Out 2. Yet they do it in a way that's different and compelling enough to make it stand out on its own. Anxiety is a complex emotion that can be told in a variety of ways, and Laurie's anxiety being represented by a giant sweat blob that encompasses most of her body and weighs her down to the point where she can barely function. It's good that Inside Out 2 showed that Anxiety is a necessary emotion in life, but I don't knock Win or Lose down for showing the emotional turmoil one faces when anxiety becomes too big of a burden to bear. They show off that idea perfectly, the same going for other characters and their anxieties. Like how Frank visualizes himself in a suit of armor to deflect criticism during the game, only for that same trick to pop up and get in the way of his own happiness because he put up too much of an emotional safeguard. Or how Yuwen's real self living in a heart that's literally as fragile as cardboard or Dan keeping all his rage and big emotions inside himself until he becomes a balloon about ready to burst.

But my personal favorite is Kai, who looks lighter than air when she feels happy and content, only to be dragged down to Earth when facing criticism from her father. And when the feeling of failure encompasses her, she literally sinks into the Earth to the point where it's hard for her to so much as take a step. That scene where she sinks into the field because something became too much for her...I felt that. I think MOST of us have felt that feeling at least ONCE in our lives. And the visual representation of such a feeling can ONLY be perfectly shown through animation.

Win or Lose is a typical slice of life story, and those don't necessarily NEED to be animated. You're showing the successes and struggles of someone's life, and it can just as easily be done in live action if needed to. But Win or Lose, with the themes it tries to tell and the emotions it had to convey, NEEDED to be animated. Having Rochelle act mature for her age is simple enough to do, but by having her physically GROW into an adult sells the idea better and makes it cuter as we see more about how she sees herself. Or how Ira is shown to be an imaginative kid is further emphasized by showing how often sees the world in crude, cutesy, hand drawn animation. By being animated, the stories, themes, and emotions in Win or Lose are made stronger, even through something as simple as showing Rochelle suddenly screaming on an island when she realized she forgot her phone. I feel like we've ALL been there at one point in our lives and the animation captured it perfectly.

Speaking of perfect, Win or Lose has the Pixar standard of PHENOMENAL animation. It's not as heavily detailed as some of Pixar's films, but it doesn't need to be. It's a TV show and that means a shorter budget and simplified designs. And while the character designs can sometimes look TOO simple (Looking at YOU, Coffee Girl), the show looks great in the way it makes 3D characters look almost 2D. I made a mini-post once about how such a feat isn't easy, and you can see the love and effort that went into making every character move and act as if they're from a 2D cartoon, making this one of the most fluid and expressive Pixar productions to date. And that's not getting into how it frequently mixes mediums like with Yuwen's inner self and Ira's imagination. Just the sight of seeing something 2D interact with something 3D is nothing short of impressive.

What's also impressive is the central theme of the show. Yes, there's the idea that you need to acknowledge everyone's perspective on things, but there's the one that the show explicitly stated in the beginning: Sometimes, winning is how you look at it. Everyone in this show is looking to be the best that they can be. Either it's having the best relationship, being the star player, or simply being the best person, perfection is what everyone strives for. And, unfortunately for them, it's what leads to their downfall, both in how they react to things not being perfect and how their strive is what led to them getting hurt. Like how Yuwen's anger at his relationship with Taylor reaching a bump in a road lead to his heart getting broken or Kai's constant training and disregard for herself led to getting a sprained ankle. These constant strives for success and victory led to more turmoil, when in reality, life isn't about being better than the rest. You just need to try your personal best. If you fail, that's fine. You gave it your all, and that's all that should matter. That and learning from your mistakes, of course. Which I think almost everyone does by the end, making better choices for their lives and being better for the ones they care for.

Now, with all this PRAISE that I have towards Win or Lose, are there any problems? Well, there's only ONE huge issue I have, and it's nothing against the show itself.

Yes, I'm talking about the infamous censorship that Kai's character gotten in the show's early stages, where they went ALL IN on her being trans and struggling with gender dysphoria. Disney went ahead and said "FUCK THAT" and forced the writers to make Kai as straight and cis as possible. To which the writers and animators said, "Fine, we won't EXPLICITLY make Kai trans...We'll just use a ton of symbolic subtext to the point where it's very obvious that she IS trans so that fans and audiences can tell what we wanted from the start." And they got away with it like a bunch of CHAMPIONS! Still, it hurts that the original plotline got cut because there is so much MORE to have done with that part of Kai. It's obvious from the get-go that she didn't want to be the best softball player, she just wanted acceptance from friends who see her from HER. That works best if the character is as explicitly trans as possible, and, now more than ever, kids like her deserve to see themselves represented like that. Pixar did the best with what they could, but there's no getting past the Mouse when he says no. Just ask The Owl House and Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur.

As for the actual SHOW, I've got nothing aside from a few nitpicks. Like, it feels weird that Laurie never really faced any consequences for cheating at the game and purposefully hurting herself to get on base. She sees it as a personal victory and no one really catches her or brings her down for it. I also don't like the idea of Frank getting with Vanessa. Yes, it was the obvious choice the second they both talked, revealed they were close to the same age, and talk about how Rochelle likes Frank and Frank likes her as a student, but they have NOTHING compatible with each other. Though, to be fair, the show seems quickly acknowledge that in the short time it made them canon as Frank seems awkward around her and she seems...too much for him, but I'm still not sure if that's INTENTIONAL or not. Maybe if it was revealed that it was Vanessa Frank was talking to on the dating app or something I MIGHT be more leniant as it shows there's more to Vanessa than it appears, but as is, it's still messy. Same going for Yuwen and Dan's stories and how rushed they feel. I can give Dan SLIGHTLY more of a pass because it is the finale and most of the climax DOES circle around him. We just breeze by events to get to the championship and it feels like there's less buildup to his big blowup in comparison to the others. And given what happened with Yuwen, I feel like they rushed through a LOT with him. Both the events that led to him getting his heartbroken and then getting over it felt like we skipped important events because we have more going on with everyone else. His arc doesn't get the proper attention it deserves, which is a shame because I think what they do with it is GOOD. I still like his arc all the same, despite the poor pacing, with my favorite bit being his inner self yelling at Yuwen for making this big mistake, asking him "What are you doing?!" That still hurts and is incredibly effective, but I just feel like everything else could have been BETTER.

Aside from all that, it's next to perfection. I can count the amount of complaints with Win or Lose on one hand, and that's an impressive feat for anything, be it a show or movie. I can't find any major issue with it other than MAYBE the art style isn't your thing, and, even then, that's more subjective. I love the HELL out of this series, it made me cry FOUR times when watching it, and I hope the team that worked on it got all they praise they deserve for watching. And while it may be a show about softball players, I'm still going to mix metaphors and say it's another HOME RUN from Pixar.

[1moreff-creator]

What do you think about the secret quotes?

At this point, I'm fairly certain that not everyone will say theirs, seeing as Ace didn't.

Xander had a literal definition, so I kinda assumed that was the reason why he didn't say it, but now I think that maybe these quotes are just meant to give us a general idea of what X character is feeling.

And that Min saying hers might just be a coincidence?

It’s kinda crazy I’ve never done a post specifically about these things, given I tend to bring them up every other DRDT post lol. But I guess it’s probably a good idea to have some kind of thoughts on them written down lol. Let's get into it!

Spoilers for DRDT CH2. CW: Mass death due to sickness, survivor’s guilt, trust issues, murder, suicidal thoughts, self-harm

While I imagine most people on my blog will know what this is about, in case anyone isn’t aware; the secret quotes in question are quotes hidden in the source code of the characters’ individual pages from the cast list.

Look, that’s Teruko’s! 

If you’re interested in what other secrets this series holds, you can check my secrets masterpost!

For a while, it was believed that everyone would, at one point or another, say their secret quote aloud (bar maybe Xander, as his is a bit of an awkward thing to say like melownooo said in the ask). This was mainly believed during the CH2 Pt1 - Pt2 hiatus, as both Min and Arei had said theirs either before death or in a flashback. However, with Xander’s being strange to say and Ace failing to say his before death, it’s looking more likely that only some of them will say their lines (though Ace can always say his in a flashback or Bonus Episode maybe), as the asker here brings up. So, let’s see the lines, and try to figure out what each of them could mean!

Teruko: It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all. 

Very straightforward, as this is most likely the message Teruko will arrive at with her character arc. Going from trusting a little at the start of the series, then trusting no one for most of CH2, only to realize that not trusting anyone is hampering her ability to solve the mystery in the second trial, our protag is on a bit of a trust rollercoaster. Presumably, this quote shows the attitude she’ll end up with at the end of the series, and may even say the line out loud as a climactic moment!

Xander: survivor guilt(n): feelings of guilt for having survived a catastrophe in which others died.

I didn’t check all of them myself, but this seems to be the only quote without capitalization, funnily enough. A character so deadset on challenging convention that even his secret quote doesn’t follow grammar rules, truly an Ultimate Rebel!

Jokes aside, this obviously refers to what we learn of him in his Bonus Episode, Visiting Graves. He was away when his entire hometown died due to some kind of sickness, and feels survivor's guilt over that. Though if you want me to do my thing and read way too much into it...

Even beyond the irony of the character with survivor’s guilt being the first to die, this could be taken as a hint that he survived more than just the Chariton incident. That could refer to something relating to Mai’s presumed death, given the connection those two had, or even a whole previous killing game. However, that’s much more speculative, and the Chariton incident is enough to explain the quote in its entirety anyways, so. 

Charles: If you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. None of those memories should ever be kept, anyway.

Obviously an ironic statement, given Charles’ childhood amnesia. This is one of the ones which feels strange coming out of Charles’ mouth as a result, and would maybe work better if it’s said to Charles, as opposed to him saying it to someone else. Not that the latter wouldn’t work at all, but y’know.

In any case, the meaning for Charles is the same. It’s meant to be ironic, as Elliot was clearly important to Charles to some extent and Charles forgot him anyways. It’s been said in Q&A that Charles doesn’t like cutting his hair short, presumably because he likes looking like Elliot through subconscious stuff, and there was something about Charles wanting to learn to cook pancakes and Elliot cooking pancakes when he was alive (I think; my memory’s not perfect and I don’t feel like looking all this up. Would be very funny if I misremember anything in this quote in particular though lol). However, Charles might be resistant to that idea, because it would be a pretty harrowing thing if he’s forgotten something important. 

Ace: I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

I mean that’s just Ace in a nutshell. I talked in my CH2 Pt2 analysis about how the theme of control over his life is an important theme of his character, so… I’ll just copy paste from there lol. 

…he feels he completely lacks control of his life, that it's all decided by a fate he can't control, the same way that a jockey doesn't walk on their own, but rather is carried by a horse to their destination. And it's no wonder that this feeling of lacking control is referenced in his secret quote, "I don’t know what to do with myself anymore." After all, it's this feeling of lacking control of himself and his situation that causes him to seek control of anything he can, be it bullying Nico because he sees them as an easy target, distancing himself from others because it's easier to control his feelings that way, killing someone because it's the only way he can control his place in the killing game, or anything else I might be forgetting. And this fear of lacking control is probably part of his fear of death, isn't it? Because no one can control what happens after death.

Yeah that lol.

Arei: Because that’s what friends do.

This is one of the two that got said! 

This line is basically the culmination of Arei’s arc (alongside “let’s be less shitty together”). Here’s the full context so we can see exactly what friends do in Arei’s opinion.

Arei [2-10]: So I’ll prove [that I’m being genuine] to you! I’m going to be your friend! And I’ll do nice things for you! Anything at all! Eden: H-Huh? Arei: Don’t underestimate me! I can be a good person too! Being a good person means doing nice things. So if there’s anything you need from me… Whether it’s defending you from scary jerks like Arturo or baking some stupid fucking cake… I’ll do it. I promise. I’ll do anything for you. Okay? Eden: I… Arei: Because…Because… Because that’s what friends do.

Being a “good person” and being Eden’s friend are intertwined concepts in Arei’s mind, and “being a good person means doing nice things” is part of the entire message of the chapter (though slightly simplified), you get the idea. The resolution of doing “what friends do” is the culmination of Arei’s development, no wonder it’s her secret quote!

Rose: In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on.

I’ve talked about this one a lot too… Though I feel like you can say that about quite a few of these lol. The point here is that Rose is resigned to her fate due to her situation with the Spurling Foundation, as she doesn’t feel like her life can improve. Something something her character design literally has her irreversibly stained with mistakes of the past something something. This one’s straightforward. 

Hu: I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.

One of the most cryptic ones by far, as we currently have no idea what this is referring to. We know of little that Hu has done that she’d need to pay for, that she’d also need to bring up the possibility of dying in the same breath. The main theory here is that Hu will eventually become a blackened, and that she’ll feel horrible about it but still want to survive. But of course, we have no idea if that will really happen, as this could also refer to literally anything else.

That aside, though, Hu’s steadfast desire to live is interesting in the context of her having been suicidal in the past. It’s clear that Hu is not suicidal during current killing game time, and in fact has very strong feelings towards David’s actions and how they would have led to everyone’s death. Thus, this quote more so seems to reinforce the theme of metamorphosis that Hu’s got going on with her butterfly motif, among other stuff. She used to not want to live, and now does. Yay for improvement!

Eden: You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try.

Another cryptic one! While there’s an obvious connection to Eden through her talent (time only moves forward, so the Clockmaker saying “you can’t go back” makes thematic sense), it seems like a strange thing for someone of Eden’s personality to say. She definitely believes in people’s ability to change and fix the mistakes of the past, if her desire to befriend Teruko and willingness to accept the possibility of Arei becoming friends with her as well is any indication. So, how bad did someone fuck up for Eden to say this to them? Or is this something someone else will say to Eden, similar to what I said about the Charles quote? Very unclear for now. So all I can really bring to the table for now is the thematic connection via talent :p

Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.

Do I… need to explain this one? Levi might as well have straight up said this during his 2-13 backstory drop. He feels little to no empathy, so naturally he defines people by actions alone. But he’s also admitted to not understanding people very well, so it makes sense that he’d hesitate on this belief, as he can only infer what makes a “good person” from the opinions of others. Don’t get me wrong, I do think he’s right that people are defined by actions, I’m just saying it makes sense he’s not confident in that.

Arturo: You hated them, but even that doesn’t justify what you did.

Another one that feels like it’s said to Arturo as opposed to him saying it, as the “them” in the quote could refer to his parents. “You hated your parents, but that doesn’t justify abandoning your sister”, or something like that. Without knowing the situation, it’s hard to say how fair that is, but y’know. Like with Charles, if Arturo’s meant to be the one saying this/having this attitude, then there’s still the irony that Arturo accidentally harmed someone because he hated someone else, so he’s not all that qualified to be saying this. Without more context, it’s hard to say exactly how it’ll come into play, so I’ll leave it there for now.

Min: I wanted to save you.

I actually find this one particularly interesting. One, because I’m biased. Two, because at first glance, it’s a weird thing to focus on in Min’s character. This is a line she says, so we know the full context; she’s expressing that killing Xander was a spur of the moment decision made explicitly to save Teruko, with Min choosing to cover up the murder only after she realized he’d died. 

Thing is, though… it might seem hard to call this the culmination of her character the way secret quotes like Arei’s sometimes feel like. Now, not every quote is related to the central theme of the character or anything (I would argue there’s more important things to Xander than his survivor’s guilt, for example), but… really? We didn’t have any better lines? Nothing about mistakes being corrected, per her trial 1 speech? Nothing about competition, which relates to her motive secret? Nothing about feeling like the course of her life was decided years ago when XF-Ture Tech came knocking? Just the yuri line? Alright.

However, I do think there’s some good angles you can see the line from, where you could argue it encapsulates Min growing beyond what’s expected of her talent, and those angles are why I still think this quote is pretty good overall. Mainly, you could relate it to the idea that saving Teruko is one of the most important decisions Min makes without influence from XF-Ture or Hope’s Peak. No one told her to do that, yet she decided to do it anyways. Not only that, but this represents one of the fiercest competitors in the cast participating in the killing game not to win it, but for the benefit of someone else. The quote also calls attention to her murder, which in turn leads to all her foils with Xander, which I won’t repeat here because I’ve talked like 15000 times about the ridiculous amount of ways these two foil (I’ll link to my recap foil post if you’re interested and haven’t seen it). So, despite what it may look like at first, it’s a perfectly awesome secret quote!

Yes this is just an excuse to ramble about Min. No I’m not apologizing.

David: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die.

Hm… I wonder what this could possibly mean. What kind of message are we supposed to get from this quote? It’s very subtle and intricate and- yeah I can drop the bit now.

This one’s very funny because of how direct it is, but it’s easy to understand. David hates someone. There’s a couple of people who he hates, so it’s easy to imagine him going off at any of them at any given time now that he’s had his heel turn. My bet’s on Teruko, though Whit and Xander (see: "I hate the things I love and I love the things I hate" LGI scene) are good dark horses in that race, maybe. Or Hu, or I could see Arturo, maybe Charles… yeah it really could be anyone lol.

If you want a more thematic reading, just... watch LGI lol. David's just a massive hater overall, makes sense this is his quote.

Veronika: Once something is broken, it can never be pieced together in quite the same way again. The same goes for people.

This one’s very intriguing. Obviously, one must ask whether she’s referring to herself being broken, or someone else, as both are possible. I’m leaning towards her talking about herself, as we know for a fact she used to be a bit of a different person in the past, both because of her motive secret (she used to self-harm and took on her talent to stop that) and because of her comments claiming she used to be a bit more outdoorsy. Thus, it follows that there may have been some kind of event in her past that changed her in what she feels is an irreversible way. Something something recap foils with Hu something something. There’s little else I can analyze here without more context on Vero, so we’re leaving it there!

J: Please don’t call me your daughter ever again.

I wonder who she’s talking about! 

Yeah obviously this is just about how much J hates her mother. Really all I can comment on is the fact that J has never outright disowned Mariabella like this in the series yet, just expressing dislike towards her mother instead of trying to deny their relationship altogether. I imagine it’s just a matter of expression and doesn’t mean anything else, but y’know, I’ll point it out just in case it comes up.

Whit: We tend to idolize the dead.

Another one about a mom! We all know how much Whit wants to be like his mother, to the point of dying his hair to look like hers, and pretending she’s still alive to the point he forgets she’s actually dead when the secret Rose received is revealed. I could see him both saying this, and this being said to him. No idea what the context will be if and when it’s said, though; a lot of people die in this series, so there’s a lot of people who could potentially get idolized lol.

Nico: Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made?

Many people I think expected them to say it at some point in the second trial, with the idea that Ace was the one who made a mistake by pushing Nico's buttons and Nico wouldn’t be the one in the wrong in their mind. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. Nico owns up to their murder attempt, acknowledges it as a mistake, and outright claims not to be a victim. Thus, this cannot be the interpretation we’re meant to take with the quote, in my opinion.

Because of that, I assume this is actually referring to something else entirely. However, we have no idea what the hell that could be. Nothing we know about Nico’s backstory fits this idea, and with the Ace murder attempt out of the picture, there’s nothing in the killing game this could refer to yet. I guess maybe if someone tries to blame them for Ace killing Arei? But they all know that makes no sense, since Ace was already planning to kill Eden even before Nico tried to murder him, so probably not.

We really need more context to know what exactly this refers to, so I’ll leave it at that for now :v

MonoTV: Her name is Mai Akasaki.

This is more for ARG-y purposes, as (if I understand how this went correctly) this is how you’re supposed to get to the “All you have to do” page by typing Mai’s name in an URL, and from there the AOAVIEPKRO code for the Mai character page itself. Still, this obviously implies Mai is an important character who is likely connected to the killing game in some way; in other news, grass is green. 

Speaking of the “All you have to do” page, there is a hidden quote in that source code as well. 

Are you still searching for a secret? For some explanation that will satisfy you? There’s no answer I can give you that will make you happy. Maybe I should have lied instead. I’m sorry.

If you really want to read into it, you could argue that this implies that any truth about Mai would make us sad, presumably because her story has a sad ending; in other news, the sky is blue. 

Oh and if you’re interested in my take about the secret text which used to be in the About Page you can find it in this post here.

-

And that’s about it! These quotes are fun. Thanks for the ask! Good excuse to finally make this long overdue post lol.

[0viraptoraskblog]

heyy i was just wondering what you think how ren would react if someone is js straight up obsessed with him. for example imagine ren after kidnapping mc, being BOMBED with appreciation and love and not minding the fact they straight up got kidnapped lolo i also wondered what ren would do if he found out that mc has witnessed simillar trauma like he did

Sorry I got behind on my ask box, I’ve been pretty busy. Let’s get into it though!

For the first question, I think he’d be pleasantly surprised. When he kidnaps you in BTD2, he’s looking for someone to ‘replace Strade’, (although this time they will be the one in the collar). He seems to already have an idea, or hope, of how it will go. When he shocks you on the first day, he says it’s for ‘training’— if you already show signs that you’re behaving the way he wants, there’s no need to train you.

Ren wants to be the one in charge now, yes, but he also wants a relationship. He convinced himself that what he had with Strade was love, and he wants that again. If you show up showering him in affection, he’d no doubt be surprised; but it makes him so happy! He definitely found the right person. He’d waste no time being affectionate in return, glad to finally have someone who wants him.

He’d grow seriously attached in no time. Having someone return his efforts gives him life. He makes you home cooked meals, making sure to always have your favorites on hand. He buys you things, talks about your interests with you, cuddles you of course. He’ll quickly become just as obsessed as you are :)

It might make him easier on you, too. If you already love him like he wants, that means less or no basement trips, because he has no need to train you.

For the second question, I think it would give the two a deep understanding that Ren doesn’t have with anyone else. Yes, he can share stories from his past, but no one really gets it. Finding someone who’s gone through similar things would make Ren feel a connection towards them.

Finally feeling understood, I don’t think he’d want to let you go. If you just met normally, I’m sure he’d insist on being friends and staying in touch. After all, he’s never had anyone who knows the real pain of what he’s been through.

If you were kidnapped like his normal route though, there are a few ways this could go.

Let’s say everything was going as usual, and then you somehow got on the topic of sharing your traumas. It depends on how Ren is feeling (whether he’s leaning towards a good or bad path). If he was feeling cruel, he might continue with his plans, claiming that you already know what it’s like, so you should have no trouble behaving. He might enjoy having that control, relishing in being in charge for once. If he’s feeling nicer, or even neutral, I think it would awaken something in him. It would bring back the memories that he tried so hard to shove into a box, but for a better reason— you get it. He’d probably be more gentle and patient with you. It’s even possible that he abandons the chains altogether. I think that’s the most likely answer. He craves that feeling of understanding. He shares something with you. How could he repeat that cycle when he sees himself in your eyes?

Ren is a complicated character, because there’s so many different branches his story can go on. These are just the ones that I thought of, I hope I answered ok ^^