#i like making parallel posts between my boys :3

[canonicallyobserving911]

Bobby, Buck and Brad: In 8x7 Brad will be one of the “Wannabes”

He's obsessed with Bobby; he wants to be like Buck and his antics will likely lead to another Buddie and Bathena Parallel

I believe he's going to be the reason for the above call that will mimic when Buck was struck by lightning in 6x10 and I've included my speculation underneath the cut.

Before continuing, I need to make a point about the "Hotshots" storyline. Reminder, it's Bobby's arc therefore, whatever happens with it will be centered around him. However, Buck was enthralled in his own problems with Bobby's replacement (Gerrard) after Bobby left the 118 at the end of season 7. At the time, it was difficult to see how these things would be related later on but I think I figured out how things might play out.

Please note: these are my interpretations and observations and it's completely ok if someone doesn't agree because everyone interprets media differently. Two opposing opinions can coexist.

Now back to the regularly scheduled program...

Brad is a “fake” fire captain on the TV show “Hotshots” and he idolizes Bobby. Based on everything that was included in episodes 1-4, it's evident he didn't want Bobby to leave the show and go back to firefighting. It appears he has a "Hero Complex" and it's possible he's the one who fixed it so an actor will be hanging from the aerial like Buck was in 6x10.  He reminds me of Jonah but I don’t think he’ll be after everyone at the 118, just Bobby and Buck.

I did a post yesterday (linked here) about the similarities between 6x10 and 8x7 with regards to the lightning strike and I believe Brad is the one who's continued to STUDY Bobby’s past (he said he was going to do it in 8x1 while they were sitting at the same table) and he considers Bobby to be a "hero."

In episodes 1, 2, 3, and 4, he proved how mesmerized and captivated he was along with his fixation on Bobby and it was kind of weird.  He asked him to do a bootcamp with him and his friends in the mountains or at his house in Malibu but Bobby’s facial expression said, “Hell No” but Bobby always treated Brad with dignity and respect. He never belittled him and this fact will be reviewed again below. 

Furthermore, when Brad saw Bobby and Buck working together in 8x2 and 8x3, he was IMPRESSED and he tried to be like them during the airplane rescue. When he saw Buck commandeer that motorcycle and ride it to stop traffic, he called Buck, Bobby's boy.

He lied to the soccer player and said he was a firefighter but when she showed him her injured leg, he fainted.

Two things happened that intrigued me and reminded me of things that happened in previous seasons and they led to my speculation about him.

5x18 8x2

First, when I saw the way Brad followed Buck in the sneak peek video for 8x2 and the way he positioned himself right behind him, I figured he was crazy since he was already fixated on Bobby (related post linked here). And it reminded me of something I saw in 5x18 but it happened with Bobby and Buck. At the end of 5x18, after Eddie returned to the 118, Buck was walking in step with Eddie and within seconds, he was behind Bobby and you couldn’t even see Buck anymore (I did a post about what I believed it meant back then [linked here] and I still believe LD was there to do something to Buck but they changed her storyline and tried to make her a good person 🙄. Reminder she was friends with Jonah). But now it’s Brad who wants to be like Buck because Buck is Bobby's protégé and mentee and he will be captain of the 118 one day and it's been foreshadowed since season 1.  In 8x2, Brad did the same thing Buck did in 5x18 except Brad walked behind Buck and he was almost invisible until Buck stepped away and Brad got in the truck behind them.

5x3 8x3

Second, in 5x3, Buck was sitting in the captain’s seat when Bobby and the 118 went to go and help Athena so she could arrest Jeffrey.  In 8x2 and 8x3, Bobby and Buck were sitting exactly like they were in 5x3 with Buck in the captain’s seat and Bobby driving but reminder, they were in a FAKE fire engine.

Brad HATES Gerrard and in 8x4 it was easy to see especially when Gerrard told him that he doesn’t watch firefighter shows. He said, “ALL I SEE IS WHAT THEY DO WRONG.”   Also, he likes doing things the old school way and it was proven in 8x1 when he was talking to Buck and he doesn’t do things the way Bobby does them.  Therefore, it’s likely things on the “Hotshots” set aren’t going well and Brad wants Gerrard gone and he wants Bobby to come back.  I’ve included a video so the things Bobby, Brad, Buck and Gerrard said can be heard (GIFs are great but IMO, sometimes it's better to hear what's being said than to read it). 

Additionally, Brad thinks Bobby’s like “God” on set and he wants to be like him, so if Gerrard is pulling the same $hit he was pulling with the 118, it's likely Brad will try to get him fired.

In 8x7, I believe Brad will be the one to stage the scene to be like the one from the lightning strike and I think he’s doing it so that Bobby will go back to “Hotshots” and so that Gerrard will leave.  But I also think something’s going to happen and based on the narrative, Buck will be the one to get hurt and Eddie’s going to be the one to save him.

Bathena and Buddie have been paralleling each other for years but in season 7, Bobby and Athena had an NDE on the cruise ship and they had another one at the end of the season when their house burned down and Bobby died for 14 minutes.  But that was before TM (showrunner) changed the scripts after they got an early renewal for season 8.  I think if things would have remained the way they were supposed to, Buddie would've had an NDE too but it would have been both of them at the end of the season so they could have told each other, "I love you" like Bathena did when they were trapped inside of that room on the ship. 

Fast forward to season 8 and the opening disaster was of Bathena again but this time, Bobby was on the ground and Athena was in danger.  I think whatever’s going to happen at the end of 8A, it’ll be Buck in danger because of something Brad did and Eddie will have to use his medic skills and remain cool under pressure like Bobby had to use his firefighting captain’s skills to save Athena by shutting down the I-110 to create a runway for her.  Now all of this could change but reminder, Buck and Athena always parallel each other the same way Eddie and Bobby do so if this holds true then, Buck’s next up for another NDE with Eddie set to save him like Bobby saved Athena.  Bathena and Buddie Parallel posts linked here and here.

The purpose of this post is to offer speculation on why I believe Brad and the “Hotshots” are still around.  They’re there so that Brad can cause chaos to get Gerrard fired so Bobby can go back to the TV show but it’s going to end up in a cluster f~ck and Buck will be the one to get hurt.

[divergent-paths]

and here we see max weaponising a child's most deadly asset; the dreaded puppy eyes!!!

chara tones on this post filled in by @diamondphantom ~!

[carabinerdrawing]

Amadeo & Daniel

"he filled my bath with rose petals and goat's milk and washed my mortal body"

[lacrimosathedark]

I need the comic book fanfic writers to be made very aware of something:

Roy Harper is the only one to EVER call Jason Todd "Jaybird".

This isn't a family name that he picked up on, or that Roy made and the family has adopted. Roy is literally the only person to call him that. Dick doesn't, Babs doesn't, Bruce doesn't, nobody but Roy does.

The others call him Jay sometimes, in old comics Jace was said a few times (which I actually like and wish people would use literally at all). Bruce has said "Jay, lad" like once and fandom adopted him calling Jason "Jaylad" but that's not horribly egregious so I tolerate it. Dick occasionally calls Jason "little wing". That's about it.

Jaybird is very specifically a Roy Harper thing.

(Honestly yall better appreciate me actually looking back in RHATO 2011 because BOY do I hate this comic. It's not only poorly written, but in my opinion, ugly as fucking sin and I need to burn my retinas now)

That is the first instance of Jason ever being called "Jaybird", and it becomes a lowkey running gag that Roy calls him that and Jason "hates" it.

And then we get this post Heroes In Crisis

This whole thing may have been poorly written because, again, Scott Lobdell sucks, but the intent is to evoke intimacy to make Roy's death hurt. Jason is supposed to have just lost his best friend and was told by Bruce Wayne whose last appearance in his life was beating the shit out of him and, oh yeah, who saved Jason? Roy Fucking Harper.

In addition to the fact that Roy only left Jason to get help for himself. He was supposed to be in rehab/therapy, somewhere safe, and he fucking died because of handwavy Speedforce shenanigans or whatever it's been retconned to now because nobody liked Heroes in Crisis. Roy was supposed to be getting better and he died ostensibly in an accident. Like if that's not the worst fucking bullshit--

This scene of Jason calling himself by what he deems a stupid nickname would mean jack shit if everyone and their goddamn cat called him "Jaybird". But it being a Roy-specific thing makes this scene distinctly about Jason being vulnerable and actively grieving. It's such a cliche trope, and a real coping mechanism, to call a deceased loved one's phone just to hear their voice in their inbox message again. He probably has no thoughts that Roy will ever hear it so this is just for him, but he's letting himself accept this dumb nickname Roy gave him now because it was Roy that gave it to him and Roy is fucking dead.

Like, in fairness it probably frustrates me more because I ship the two and parallel it with Oliver calling Dinah "pretty bird", but like...even as just a cheeky friend nickname, nothing romantic behind it, having everyone else call Jason that feels wrong. Especially his family who he still has so many issues with and, like it or not, he's closer to Roy than literally any of the Bats at this point.

This isn't the only time I've seen the fandom do this (this being giving nicknames between characters that just don't exist); Jason calling Tim "replacement" is absolutely rampant in the fandom and I hate that too because he never calls Tim that, and refers to him as such like once. I have a whole list of actual nicknames and insults these motherfuckers call each other somewhere, but maybe another time.

In short

STOP HAVING EVERYONE CALL HIM JAYBIRD.

Thank you and have a nice day. <3

[shitapril]

very often see posts about how the one direction fans grew up to be formula one fans, and the more I think of it, the more it makes sense. putting aside the fact that almost all my f1 friends were 1d fans (were ? are lol), it makes sense that a fandom who's fuel was hyperfixating on boys living out their dreams shifted from one form of it to another.

tha being said, it got me thinking - how do the girlies translate to f1 ? and by girlies i mean what your kpop fan would call a "bias". for example, if i was a niall girl - who's my favourite now ?

so here's a silly little non-sensical analysis and comparison that should not be taken seriously at all :

firstly, the zayn malik girlies are definitely lewis hamilton girlies. both zayn and lewis come from humble backgrounds, were subject to vile, inhumane racial discrimination and hate - all while being arguably the most talented in their respective fields (I mean, you've heard zayn's high note in you & I, and seen lewis' 7 world championships). they're hardworking, pet-loving, very fashionable men who stay out of unnecessary spotlight for the most part, and step out once in a while to remind the world they're drop-dead gorgeous. the zayn girls are safe with lewis.

next comes liam payne - and here on you'll have to hear me out with my comparison of every racer and bandmate. liam and george russell are both aggressively british, unapologetically goofy and true to themselves (and i'm talking about liam in 1d not the one on logan paul's podcast). they're both very talented, highly regarded in their boss' eyes (toto wolff and simon cowell - this post is going to be interesting wow) and still somehow not an immediate fan favourite. this comparison also goes wonderfully well with the whole ziam and britcedes parallels.

thirdly, louis tomlinson. easy peasy. max verstappen. both incredibly blunt, dry humour, pr nightmares, do not give two single hecks. people either love them, or hate them - no in between. both incredibly talented individuals (louis wrote majority of 1d's discography, max has 3 world championships under his belt) and yet are discredited ("louis is only famous cuz of his bandmates and the band itself" and "max just had a good car"). the zayn and louis fued also parallels abu dhabi 2021 quite well aye ? (i'm going insane)

harry styles, no debate. charles leclerc - regarded as the pretty boys (the prettiest, their fans would insist i'm sure) and the most popular, the well-liked. both extremely talented without a doubt, but a little bit overrated, and victimised to glorify and support fan narratives. i know i sound like a hater - forgive me, not my intention. i like them both as individuals - their fans on the other hand (and no, not all, i know) are so blind-sided, so insane and cause so much unpleasantness on the internet. almost ironic, how the most amicable ones have the least liked fans lol. that aside though, if you were a harry girl, chances are you went from one fan-favourite to the other. i also just realised - this supports the larry and lestappen narratives - am i genuinely, honestly onto something here ? (i absolutely am not)

lastly, niall horan. now this one i'm sure will divide you all, but here you go anyway. lando norris. both babied immensely by their fans and bandmates/teammates alike - churchboy persona. the moment they shed the insecurity, suddenly bam everyone hates them (niall's mofo t-shirts, lando's frat boy tendencies, and saying things that the internet will not find funny), promising at a young age, yet somehow grew up to be called overrated. their fans are stubbornly loyal to them, defending them through all their rights, and wrongs. it makes sense to me. one smiley boy to another.

this probably makes no sense - but feel free to add your own comparisons, theories, and notes ! there's 5 of them and 20 on the grid, obviosuly disparity for me to go on and on and on about (for example, I see a little zayn girls to carlos girls pipeline, louis to fernando - oldest boy syndrome and all that) so let me know ! let's yap :)

[littleroaes]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, tbz

PAIRING ⏵ ( 2nd pov, you ) fem!reader x lee hyunjae, lee juyeon, ji changmin, kim sunwoo, eric sohn

at the last two weeks before the semester; your younger brother leaked your old love letters. when you return to university, you work as a part time assistant for the hockey team. the charming crush of your youth has read your letter and makes a deal to not spread it if in return, you'll be his fake girlfriend for the upcoming house party. that night sets off an event with all five letters.

GENRE ⏵ FLUFF, college!au / university!au, setting around 2013 ( 2010s!au ), 2000s!au ( childhood ), to all the boys i’ve loved before!au, summer!au, some angst since we do only have one end game, childhood friends2lovers, hockey player!hyunjae, playboy (with a soft side)!hyunjae, short fake dating!au side plot, boy next door!eric, frat!eric, rich kid!eric, flirty but shy!sunwoo, old summer love!sunwoo, reader is an medical assistant, lots of pining, mutual pining, cats!!!, nerdy oblivious juyeon, literature major!juyeon, history major!changmin, changmins bad at sports (sorry bub), 3 different types of parties!, a pool party, a house party, a beach party (i don’t even like parties irl!)

WARNINGS ⏵ reader is good at sports ( volleyball ), hyunjae is a little mean/ manipulative at the start, reader gets drunk twice, sunwoo once ( oufff ), swearing a few times ( fuck, shit ), some jealousy, bad dancing (specially from reader), reader's zodiac sign is a capricorn (for a joke), kissing, pet names ( angel, princess ), proofread once ( i feel like ive forgotten something but hope not😭 )

WORD COUNT ⏵ 19 k

playlist i listened to while writing

this is my fic for @deoboyznet the love letter collective event ! if you specifically want to know which members will have more romantic storylines and who reader will end up with; i have written it out at the end of the post! ( if it being your bias is important for reading ex ). though all five will have cute/ flirty moments with reader! i changed to 2nd person pov for no reason😭 i hope you don’t mind here’s a 500 word teaser before commitment ( it’s in 3rd pov for now! )

like and reblog are highly encouraged !

01 . CHAPTER ONE 

IMAGINE THIS; ONCE UPON A TIME, FATHER OF YOURS SAID THAT TO SCOUR THE EVIL THOUGHTS OCCUPYING YOUR YOUNG MIND, ONE ONLY HAS TO WRITE LETTERS. What a magical solution to all the finite problems of youth! That’s what you thought even as you started to come of age and the inevitable falls of love. Each time, when your innocence was consumed, little by little, by the harsh realities of romance; you spit it out on a piece of paper, enveloped it, stored it in a box (extra security measures) and sheltered underneath your bed. 

And now, you’re in university. Back home for the last two weeks before the autumn semester. Laying against the bed–it reeks of school mornings of 2005–and still holds those letters beneath. The pink hues on the pillows are still there, maybe a little washed out. All butterflies stickers from magazines are plastered on furniture that shines, just slightly, when the sun goes down underneath the neighboring roofs, lucent through the open windows. 

You’ve hung out with Eric, a childhood friend. Bicycled down the gravel paths fenced in lines through houses. Side by side, always trying to one up the other like you always did. Take a swim in the same lake, in the same spot those old pictures show. Like those days; the sun never falters until it all stands on the edge between diagonal roofs. 

And amidst your childhood lies your younger cousin. Bare arms touch each other as you lie side by side with feet over the pillows, and noses –the paper box of letters. She told you about a longing crush she has for a boy in the parallel class. When overconsumed by nostalgia; you couldn’t refrain from dusting off the old box. And that’s how you ended up back with the letters you swore to withhold. 

There are five of them. 

The first one is Lee Jaehyun, a three year older popular student who you had a trivial crush on in middle school ( together with everyone else). In all honesty you didn’t know much about him; just that he was cute looking. There’s a sort of emotional torment in recalling the one sided adoration while leaned out the school window to see him play football. Even his name haunts you still in uni as your roommate had a crush on the shining hockey player the entire two semesters.

In short, everyone liked Lee Jaehyun. 

Next is Eric Sohn, your childhood friend, the boy next door, even first love? He has many titles you realize. He lived in an impressive house north from here, one that hosts many parties every time his parents take the trip to their summer resort. At some point, it felt like he knew every kid in town. Luckily, you have never been the jealous type. Despite being each other’s ride or die since ten, you never confessed the secret ways you looked at him back in the sandbox.  

Third is Sunwoo–just Sunwoo; you never got his last name–from summer camp who you even ( jokingly ) got married to. Your first summer at thirteen, away from parents, with kids the same age. When recalling it all back, that summer feels as if taken out of a movie, and you fell head first, three meters deep with the boy. Sunwoo always stood in the center ( bad and good…mostly bad tbh ). You got paired up for the kayak; it pissed rained and your coordination couldn’t take you ten meters. But you remember every word he said as butterfly inducing nonetheless. After that, at night you snuck out of your cabins to watch the stars. And when that summer too ended, you swore your heart shattered into million pieces.

The fourth is Lee Juyeon, a boy you had never seen before until his cat got pregnant by yours. Scuba Steve ( long story ) had been gone for some days until another family came up to their door with him. For half a year, it felt like you saw Lee Juyeon everyday. He was just as enchanted by kittens as you ( if not more ) and you two would visit each other just to cuddle with them. The teenage heart used to rush with the mere presence of him and together you named all the kittens–until they were sold off. Then they eventually stopped seeing each other. Though he still lurks around as a poet’s ghost around campus ( source Eric ). 

The last one, Ji Changmin, the son of your mother’s friend. He teached you calculus for a while in high school. To be fully transparent, you didn’t learn much from him that year because all you did was leaning on the kitchen table while adoring him until the rims of his glasses slipped. He always scolded you endearingly when you didn’t listen ( which was the majority of the time ). Ji Changmin always wore cute polos with neat pants–now when thinking about it, mother might have approved if you got together. But it’s too late. He went to uni; and simply left you with a newfound thing for glasses ( still wearing cute polos in uni ). 

And that’s all. You sometimes wonder if it was a mere symptom of youth that resulted in those letters. Since uni–outside a campus crush or two-–that compelling yearning for someone has never come back. 

Eventually the bird’s cease to sing once the sun swallows entirely by the horizon, and cicadas can be heard through the open windows. You leave the letters as the two of you close the door. Mother asked if you and your cousin wanted to go with the rest of the adults down to the green field at the center of the neighborhood, you said yes. 

When the heavy door shuts against the frame, voices from your younger brother’s room at the highest floor seeps through the windows.

( next morning ) 

“Mom, you haven’t seen some letters?” You stand at the stairs to look down the kitchen counter where mother and your brother turn from the pantry light. 

“Three’s blue and two pink envelopes?” You ask again. 

Mom shakes her head, “No, I haven’t?” 

You sigh, sprint up the second floor. 

“Y/n?” 

Call of your name echoes through the frame into your room. To look over the bed and see your younger brother centered at the white rectangle. His fringe like curtains reluctant to open as he looks elsewhere. You come up completely. 

“What?” 

“The letters…” 

Your ears perk up, “You’ve seen them?” 

“No, I took them…” He says guilty and starts tearing off paint from the wall. 

“The guys wanted to prank you yesterday, we sent them, I’m really sorry.” 

He looks up again, “But I told them to not do anything more.” He reassures, but his voice trails off as you neither alienate or sigh at this confession. Eyes, lifeless as the posture in your arms hanging off your stale corpse. 

“You did what?” You ask; wishing you heard incorrectly the first time and he crashed a vase instead. 

“We sent your letters..” He says hesitantly with eyebrows knit. 

You close your eyes. Take your hands up your face to cup it and breathe in. Autumn semester starts in exactly 13 days and you know at least half of the letter receivers attend. And definitely all five live in the city. 

To breathe out, hands fall in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow at what one could guess is a meditation session before you open your eyes. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” 

02 . CHAPTER TWO

( tuesday afternoon ) 

The letters were out; an existential dread running on two bags of pure sugar surged within you. A sensation you were oblivious to existed. First week went, and you hoped the mail man had fallen over and left the letters on the highway, doomed to get run over til their unreadable. But those wishes perished the very moment Eric Sohn came chanting underneath the window. The characteristic bird chimes and mowers intertwined in green leaf rustle; his voice echoed through open glass. You told mom not to tell him you were here; that you had already taken the train to the city. 

Destiny was in your favor for once, and your mother did lie when Eric came to the front door. 

So far, none crossed fate with the receivers of your letters has ensued. Eric was the only established friend in your life, hence you held yourself far, far away from any business major hot spots. Though, just after achieving three days. The first afternoon at the start of your part time; rulers leave you forced to stare eye to eye with receiver number one.

“This is Y/n, she will work as your athletic trainer assistant for this semester.” The trainer lifts hands to his side to make it even clearer than it already was. It is damn cold beside the ice rink–which you thank god for since your face would be blistered red otherwise. As he presents for all tall men in thick layers of hockey protection, they stare; you’re left to make a timid jazz hand motion with a strained smile. 

“I’m Y/n.” Hands fall back to your side and concentrate all might to look at the other eight people–not the one to the right. 

“She will be helping me with equipment and aid; so you’ll see her around a bit.” 

The players wave past you in turn; to introduce themselves in a mere identical manner. The last name pains deeply as you pretend to find shoelaces loose. 

“Jaehyun.” 

You can’t see his expression, not even when eyes come up. Only his back covered in blue jersey greets you as he steps off the plastic flooring and onto the ice. 

Though, it is an immediate opportunity for breathing room when all players go to practice. The plastic walls become solid and you look over the formations on ice. Maybe you got yourself free from this one? Maybe Hyunjae also thought it was so damn awkward that it’s easier to ignore it. You hope deeply while taking off one glove, as sultry temperatures rise beside the rink. 

Followed by the 30 minutes of relocating equipment around the center, the next time you come back into the ice hall, the trainer greets you with sweat outlining his sideburns. You knit your eyebrows before taking eyes off him and onto the player in navy; halting out the rink. Turns out Coach yelled two different instructions, followed after one another; which resulted in a collision of two players. 

He tells you to take him, who limps to the clothing rooms. By immediate compliance you approach his silhouette; leaning on the plastic divide. You can’t make out the exact expression as he faces the ground, but when you ask him if he needs help walking. That horribly handsome face from your childhood looks up. Breathing heavily, but smiles through the fringe. 

“Yeah.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line. To force sight away from him. You look at the entrance to the ice hall while taking his arm over your shoulders. Come to the clothing room after taking off his ice skates. The two intentions of your own conscience fought while walking. Nothing would be more awkward than looking at him again, on the other hand, the concern over his weak state is true as the continuous breath sounds loudly beside your ear. 

Hyunjae’s now on the bench before one side of the lockers. He watches attentively as you round the sport’s bags to take the first aid kit on the other side. The ventilation is the loudest thing in the room. At some point it becomes bothersome as you hold his clothing. You haven't made eye contact since the rink, but senses his gaze fixed over your scalp.  

He talks suddenly.

“You know Y/n, I got your letter.” He says while looking down at your hand; securing the bandage around his ankle. 

Fuck. 

Fingers stale from suspension for a moment on the bandage edges. The material loses around his ankle and you force it towards you. 

A sigh, still looking down, “Listen; it was my br–” 

“It’s appreciated Angel, but it will never happen.” His lips curve higher at one opposite edge, leaving his eyes on you with pleasure like he knows something wrong. 

You let go off his legs; weight from your hands fully on your knees as you observe–rolling your eyes. 

“I know, okay.” You breathe in, “What I was about to say was; my little brother sent it, it was not meant to be seen by you.” Another sigh before you force yourself up from the floor; coming in greater height than Hyunjae. 

“Also; I wrote it when I was like 11.” To turn to the first aid kit, “So don’t get your ego too high, Ice God.” 

“Sure, if that’s what you say, Angel.” Hyunjae takes his palms on the bench surface; leaning against the locker. Arch of his lips might rewrite your life when he proceeds to stare.  

“Why do you even call me that?” You return to the opposite side and cross arms; to perceive him roughly as if to build similar strain in him. But it leaves to no avail. 

“Why?” He quotes, “You’re sitting here healing us, our team’s little angel.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You look away as to not blossom of rose pigment–instead start organizing the materials in the aid kit. 

“Either way, Jaehyun. You can go now, it’s done.” 

No length of his voice waves via the dead locker ocean. After eyes set on the sections of the green bag; you glance at his bench. And to make you uncertain, his white bandage leg is still in frame. After you pull the zipper and leave the kit in your lap; you stare at Hyunjae who, with the usual smile, stares back. 

“I said you can go…” Quietly and tilt your head towards the door. 

“I know.” Hyunjae voices in the same tone as before. 

You side eyes him still and sits up. 

“I have a deal. Would you like to hear it?” He says suddenly, causing a rupture across the room and stacked tension weighing on your shoulders.

“Okay…” There’s an uncertain principle, written like a formula over your expression, layered in your voice. 

“You go with me as my girlfriend for Jeno’s party this Friday.” He says monotone. 

The first aid kit frees from your hands. Eyes drifting between two points and you’re left looking eyebrow knit at him two meters away. Then, forced to turn when he smiles contempt. You swiftly bend down to take the aid kit before returning gaze. Hyunjae sees in center of two bags hanging; your lips sunder to shove down the offer. Right through the concrete to the core mit. 

“--Or else I’m putting up your letter for the whole campus to see.” 

You immediately shut sealed and eyelids folds half over the curvature. He smiles so hard it borders on comical. And with his arms crossed over his jersey, you only wait for them to fall and see him burst out laughing; tell you he got you. But the silence prevails your thoughts and you start to believe he’s actually serious. 

“I don't believe you.” You look tired at him. 

“No, I’m serious.” Hyunjae still nonchalantly crossed armed and slack raised shoulders. 

As another passage of ventilation comes through, beckon time like the minute visor. You finally sigh and sit down at the bench again. 

“Why even me? Can’t you just ask someone else?” Frustration over the seemingly complex idea for a deal when he could make it ten times easier for himself.

His expression falters for a second after the question. Hyunjae holds his lips sealed; unaltered high posture cause he hesitates to give away his shortcomings. But on the other hand, just a little empathy might do it. 

“I’m actually in a bad position, Angel.” He leans forward, voice quieter.

“Everyone knows I’ve got a girlfriend, but she broke up with me before the semester. They want to finally see her, but I got none” He pauses and leans his chin on his hand and pouts a little, “--just you.”

The withered corners of your face perks slowly up as he ends his sentence. Hyunjae smiles harder, believing he a white winged victory, but it disappears the very second you laugh in his face. Your back comes against the support of the bench while eyelids close to the bottom of laughter.

“She dumped you?” Hands gather in your knees. 

“Too bad, too bad.” 

It’s Hyunjae’s turn giving stale eyes. Though, just as fast; he gathers himself back and leans onto the lockers again. 

“Yeah, is it a deal or not, Angel?” 

You breathe in and look at him still. Hyunjae is more foolish than his appearance gave off, you don't have faith in first impressions. He might as well scan your lost letter and create a chain mail across campus. Partying wasn’t on your list for the first weekend of the semester, but maybe you could get away with lurking against the wallpaper?

You swing your left foot and finally look back at him, “Okay, deal then.” 

Hyunjae smirks. 

“Just this, then we're equal. No grudge, no obligations.” 

“Sure.” He nods. 

You tilt your chin down, “...I don’t trust you, Jaehyun.” 

He lets his hands up, “Look, I’m keeping my promise. I told you my dirt too.” 

“Like not having a girlfriend is as embarrassing as a love letter written in 2002.” 

( friday evening ) 

“Okay, should we go in then?” You take a step forward but get pulled by the shirt. Shoulders come up against him and the arm sleeve of his clothing folds against your nape.

From your first encounter until Friday; you were forced to persevere through charming–bordering on foolish–remarks. The weekend prophesied as projection on the glass entrance that Friday. And it shattered the very moment Hyunjae’s voice echoed from the changing rooms. That he’ll wait for you outside the women’s dormitory. With not a twitch in own expression, he disappeared behind the frame with a wink. 

One of your two roommates was also invited to the house party. The thought of having someone else other than ice god settled some relief. But as you stood waiting in the summer heat of night; the first bus went and fifteen minutes later, you saw a familiar silhouette to the left of the stairs you sat on. 

He didn’t say anything when you refused to sit up and just glared tired at him. 

“What’s with the face, Angel?” He had asked laughing lightly, “We’ll miss the bus.”, you are forced to stand. 

“You’re late, Ice God.” You muttered and started walking towards the bus stop. Hyunjae ran up beside.  

Both talked while the streetlights behind the glass window became all the more distant. Though, it didn’t become hopelessly quiet, as it was a loud friend group behind. You cursed your half sleeve arms when Hyunjae didn’t know the way to Jeno's house from the bus stop. Forced to traverse between bushes when he pointed at mindless directions. Swore that he knew the “shortcut”. And ants might as well have climbed up your toes and into your underwear. 

Now, as either stands before the three stairs and the entrance door in the midst of the front yard. You're pulled against his chest (still covered in leaves). 

“Not so fast.” 

Though he’s out of peripheral vision; the self satisfied tone at every articulate visualizes his smile. His hands like a thin veil across your shoulders–you take a step back from them, to face him fully. 

“Okay then? What’s the plan, Ice God?” You cross arms to build some fence–to match his pride. But either only shares an instant of eye contact before you press your lips and look towards the sad flowers hidden in the corner. 

Hyunjae has always enjoyed teasing people. Of course, a bit apprehensive to strangers, but nonetheless; he waits no time to poke at the first friend closest in sight. He himself has probably no thought about it, but he has a thrill for watching people’s reactions. You were no different. Like the sun; secret behind the trees, it’s always so obvious. You were flustered by his turns of nicknames and comments; so much that you feel to defend your blemished garden. There’s something endearingly professional about you, he thinks. 

“You have a lip balm or something?” He cocks an eyebrow. 

You look at your belongings; eyes looking as narrow threads when apprehensive. To wait for his signature laughter but instead nods his head. You roam around the bag; hands helping to widen your vision, but not enough to notice his fingers below the tender sprout against your head. You look up to see him with one of your two hair clips. Curious what he’ll do; you try no fence when he sets it on his fringe. 

“Now I’m yours.” He smiles. 

Hyunjae comes down to you slightly before returning; taking his eyes off and onto the entrance before brushing past your shoulder. Because of the evening shades, the red pigments on your cheeks withers out with skin as you look behind your shoulder to see Hyunjae’s figure let the deafening conversations from inside, out. He doesn’t look back towards you, and you knit eyebrows before taking double steps up the stairs and into the house. 

With one step you push yourself off the wallpaper; feel shoulders brushing up against your own as the living room opens. 

Hyunjae held your hand for the first half an hour. He then let go when something happened between the friends (you didn’t know). But even then you tailed after like some home cat. Though, as anxiety arose after seeing a group of Eric’s friends in the same room, you cautiously backed into the corner. Some stranger did the rest for you when they collided with the table and Jeno’s grandma fell lid first and shattered on the floor. It became a bit quiet when poor grandma(s ashes) laid there, all spread out. 

After Jeno panicked and some helped clean up; the chamber of incomprehensible conversations started again. 

There’s cliques scattered between the couches. You reach on high toes to see past all the height and hair to locate the frame you came in from. Soon you fall back to your heels, just as the chorus waves through the walls. The crowd suddenly opens up before you when two people walk away. You’re left still and see the open door to the hallway. Shoulders come down in height just as you breathe out. Relieved to take a step to finally leave; but your feet barely touch the wood until eyes widens and air asphyxiates in your throat. 

At the end of the high walls; Eric stands half a meter from the door frame. A lamp shines from behind him, lightning up his half body. Like the sun; he becomes the very essence of the narrow square. 

You turn in a desperate attempt for survival. This season heat and packed building; it all bends backwards through the grass field in all four directions. 

Immediately you see diagonally behind, a staircase up to the second floor. You don't even look back to Eric before colliding with someone's back and sprint up. There’s no lighting up the wooden stairs, just Earth’s wailing moon through the pier glass. 

All those voices–through speakers or chords–wanes like the full to crescent moon month. 

There’s closed doors around. It burns pace from behind and you take the handle of the door left to the stairs. Without letting it open even half way; you slip past the glimpse and lock it shut.

You lean close to the door; feel the cold wood on your left cheek. The party’s over on this side. Like the melancholic memory of falling asleep to the adults in the other room. 

When you expect nothing; a clear voice from behind reiterates peculiar sentences. 

Not strong enough to take your chin off the door; you look past your shoulder to see someone in the bathtub with a damned annotated book. 

It takes about three seconds from first contact until the bathtub guy flinches, “Ah!?” 

“Oh my god!” Your eyes widen while your shoulders contract as wings. 

It echoes between the tiles when his book lands on the bathtub floor. To face the sudden him, distressed; your hands come up in height with your wing like bone. 

“Sorry.” You deadpan. 

“No, it’s okay.” He answers, soft spoken. Eye contact stays fleeting as his fringe–like curtains–falls before the mirage window when he reaches for the book. He mends the awry strands into place; scour the wordy dimensions to where he left off. 

You recall his soft silken halo. Hands come down to its sides and you lean off the door. Like a main character from an academic tale; he looks deeply dreamlike–always somewhere else. The guy feels your presence still as above the title cover; his eyes peeks. 

At this point, you look at him with wide eyes horror; ready for him to either aristocratically roast your fourteen old writing, or condense into second hand embarrassment and hide under the bathtub. 

Lee Juyeon sits in the damn bathtub of a house party. 

As you’re deep in fourth dimensional torment; Juyeon speaks first. 

“Oh, Y/n.” 

He smiles, still holds the book before him. 

You refuse to move, “Hi…Juyeon.” 

“That was a long time.” He switches between your eyes and the next sentence. 

The tension in your frame aids in turn for every second. Juyeon doesn’t mention any letters, but still, you eye him suspiciously. 

“Yeah.” You agree awkwardly. 

“Why are you here?” You ask. 

Juyeon pauses in sentence once again to shift his fringe and look up. You had nearly forgotten the patterns of silence and speaking he so often followed. Back when they always met; they spent so many seconds simply waiting for him to talk. 

“I would ask you the same thing.” He sort of tilts his head attentively. 

With your lips pursed instead of answering, you look to the mirror above the sink. Water in delicate droplets dive in while he turns the next page. 

“Escaping things?” He asks, still reading.  

You nod. 

“We all do.” 

You see him through the mirror reflection. His eyes bent like a faint wave from shore; reassures her lone presence. 

As he closes off himself again; you figure he doesn’t mind their shared space. There’s no sign of knowledge about your letter. Juyeon always reeked of innocence, so maybe you’re wishing. 

But Eric’s still one floor below (taking the safe option). 

You take a seat on the bathtub edge. Shoulder faces Juyeon who leans his back on the discolord cream white tiles. . 

“Should I read something for you?” He asks soothingly. 

You hesitate before letting your hands comfortably down the edge, “Okay.” 

“You want some?” He reaches out the green glass bottle. 

Your shoulders scoff when your mind affirms, “Thank you.” 

Juyeon asks suddenly, “How’s Scuba Steve?” 

Truly the only thing left that protects from not spitting out the alcohol is embarrassment. You do an expression tainted by drinks or unease, and let the bottle down your lap. 

To wonder how in the passage of all years; Juyeon recalls your insignificant house cat that mated with his own (or maybe it’s not that weird when you think after). 

There’s a sort of foolish–bordering on stupid–touch in your chest that he actually never forgot Scuba Steve. One could guess we live on, assuming we’re the only one that remembers. 

“Oh, he’s dead.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” 

The room reaches–what resembles closest to silence– in a house party. Both their lips are pressed in thin lines as they view the tiles above each other again. 

“You then?” Silence starts to torture you briefly in your fingers.

“How’s…” Your face contracts in parallel to the ceiling when scattered bleached cuts from that black little cat sleeping on his floor. 

“Mindy?” He says. 

“Oh, Yeah.” 

They both laugh. 

“She’s still alive.” He lets the book down for the first time (excluding the jumpscare), “She’s with mom and dad. Though she's getting very old now, she eats less and doesn’t even go out anymore.” 

As they sat there talking about cats and poetry; eventually the boundary past the toilet door ceases. You didn’t leave that end of the bathtub (aside from running down the kitchen with Juyeon for more alcohol). 

Now they lie on opposite builds against the cold edge. It’s been sometime since you drank, specifically this much. You can’t talk for Juyeon, but he seems pretty damn wasted too. Your eyes dares to fall while Juyeon’s shirt climbs up his chin as he comes deeper down the tub. 

“I can’t wake up here.” You mumble. Either to yourself or decked out Juyeon; you don't know. He answers something incomprehensible back as a bottle in the scattered line before the bathtub falls. While you grasp for the handle, you turn barely to Juyeon who has his eyes half open. 

“Bye, Juyeon, it was epic.” You wave your free hand, “Tell Mindy I said Hi.” 

“I’ll do.” He tiredly answers back. 

The alcohol withers boundaries within your body. Turns it weak for the downstairs crowd, like poison inducing nausea. In line with poison; You walk as if zombie apocalypse smitten down the stairs without holding onto the railing. Somehow reaches the ground floor and passes through the living room. 

Whatever mechanisms your mind built to defend its dignity from Eric; it took the place of the alcohol in its glass bottles. You’re in the hallway, three meters from the entrance. It’s overheating–worse than a sauna–in the house. Mere presence of tepid air has your hands trailing along the walls. 

A warmth presence dividing the you and outside blocks. In a desperate drunk attempt you push against it and complain. 

“Out the way, you’re fucking hot.” 

“I am?” 

It speaks back, in a tone rather mischievous than what your state calls for. With a shift of the inner lightning; you realize you have your hands on a uni jacket. The logo turns and you would accuse him of motion sickness. 

From your face-low angle, his hands are tied between the blue pockets. You lean harder on the wall to force your chin where his head is tilted with a smile to the same degree. 

“You’re still here.” You still complain and his face drops. Eyes fleet between your face, the opposite wall, and the entrance door to return. 

“That wasn’t a compliment, right?” His fingers directed to his chest. 

“No, Einstein.” Eyebrows knit when realizing you’ve drifted off the main mission. Two shoulders on opposite ends collide as you hastily drag along to the frame. 

“Woah, woah.” The male student takes your wrist lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I think it’s a great idea.” You defend without knowing. 

“You’re gonna fall down the stairs.” 

His voice is strangely worried which you would have been touched by, if it wasn’t for the drunk state. 

Mid temperatures of night may have transpired any senses as you don't answer. He takes this to come up in line with you; one decimeter away from the first stairs. 

There’s two people, solitude in a hammock to the right, and prey like shadows of two around the grass. Music from inside is still too loud, and it probably hides someone puking at the other end. 

“I’ll help you, okay? I’m not a weirdo.” 

You turn your head to side eye him. Either promise respect or sacrificially bow down, he throws his hand up. To then gently lie it on your shoulder, lead you down. 

“That’s what a weirdo would say.” You mumble without working against him. 

Gravel scratches underneath their feet and the male student takes his hand off your shoulder; though still twined by the wrist. 

He starts, “I need your name, I should call–” 

“Sunwoo!” 

It seizes pulsations from inside, and the male student takes his head from you. Features on his face and the blue jacket is immediately recognised by the one below. The student's eyes are wide and Sunwoo’s eyebrows hold a neutral position above. 

“Jaehyu–”

“She’s my girlfriend!” Hyunjae takes your wrist from him. 

“Why are you still standing here?” He agitates before wandering off the gates with you. 

Sunwoo shoves his hands up in height with his chest once again; not risking to start fighting with the reigning hockey player while he’s half drunk, half angry.

“I don’t think I’m allowed in here.” Sounds tense. 

“It’s not like you’re here to hook up.” 

“They don’t know that.” Hyunjae deadpans. 

After both left Sunwoo at the stone stairs, Hyunjae coursed through the shrubbery once again. You seemed confused over the interaction; he doesn’t think you even realized the hand on your own changed. He thought you would sober up during the train ride, but you still took irregular stepping patterns down the warm lighted gravel path. 

While down the glass entrance to the soaring female dormitory; Hyunjae motioned you to walk in. But as fast he let go of your shoulder, you stumbled three steps back. 

“What should we do then?” Hyunjae asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know, it was your idea to go the party.” You cross arms. 

“And yours to get so drunk that you can’t stand.” He spits back. 

The night pulls them close when they wait lonely, as if exiled. Summer cicadas swallow their venom words and when one street lamp flickers; Hyunjae sighs and takes a seat down the stairs. You follow. 

Once the peaceful moon renders all its light, leaving it to its bones; your head falls to his shoulder. While you carve shapes in its craters, your arms mindlessly pull him close. The strands of your hair accumulate on his neck, and while filed under the same sky, your breath sounds like a soundtrack to him. 

Like the passage from day to night; he notices his heart like it’s vastly alive. How many eyes have looked at him adoringly, but he can’t even anxiously look down your side. It’s familiar yet strange, he refuses to acknowledge it. And still you are oblivious, can’t even see his blushing face. 

“Shouldn’t you go home?” You ask softly. Tired and slow in contrast to the previous sentence. 

“I can’t leave you here.” He finally looks down at you. 

“Then you're going to be tired tomorrow.” Guilt visually lines your sunken silhouette. 

Hyunjae smiles, “You’re gonna be too.” 

He speaks gently again after silence, “Sober up a bit more and you’ll walk up.” 

03 . CHAPTER THREE

( saturday midday )

Not because you thought you were immortal anyway, but the next morning came crashing through the roof. While grieving your roof (it wasn’t broken), you swore the ceiling fan was up to mock you in its circles. All while last night lingers as a supercut. 

Your two roommates had woken up earlier, they were supposed to go out. Where? You can’t remember; at that point you were still trying to figure out who you bickered with outside Jeno’s stairs. 

Either way, the bottom line is; you didn’t throw off your clothes, and no texts from Eric. 

The campus is idyllically still in late summer. Bird whistle intertwines with the wind who walks like you through the grass, under the same gravel path Hyunjae led you yesterday. Sun drenched tree crowns and your eyes yearn through the gaps. 

There’s a yellow haze over the world and when you take another step; charge in gravel comes from behind. How your legs sway towards the grass border, fleeting levels with your eyes over your shoulder. A bicycle comes half a meter before; stops it with his right foot.

“Oh–Hi, Y/n.” 

“Oh, Juyeon?” 

He jumps off the saddle and they fall in same line. 

“You look a bit tired?” Juyeon asks in a voice, perfect sync with the bird song. Once again the world falls so dream-like behind him. 

“Yeah, yesterday was…stressful.” You take a palm up to your forehead. 

Juyeon’s smile falters, anxiously tilts his head, “Did I do something last night?” 

“No,no–something else happened…not you.” Hand between the open space which you wave reassuringly. His eyes become concerned and yours only redder. Hyunjae’s touch still lingers on that half of your body; you’re afraid Juyeon can see it. 

You ask something else instead, “You then? You’re not tired?”

He laughs softly, “A bit.” “But I’m supposed to meet a family friend.”

You nod. 

Leaving the last tree behind; the blue sky opens up, just in time for his revelation. Juyeon turns to you fully. Merely one can make out the contour of a light bulb above his head. 

“She bought two of our kittens; Lemon and…” He knits his eyebrows, unable to see your eyes, brilliant with curiosity. 

“I forgot.” He laughs, “They’re big now, I see them sometimes.” 

“Really?” 

Juyeon hums, “Do you want to see them?” 

“Of course!..if it’s okay for your friend?”

“She’s a lady my mother knows.” Juyeon takes one leg over the bicycle saddle and tilts his head–so that his hair too–points to the rack. 

“Jump on.” 

To exchange his eyes with the bicycle rack; you purse your lips and walk behind. Hands immediately cling to the metal frame, but as Juyeon weighs forward, you hold onto his shirt. 

Juyeon looks back and smiles as you struggle, “Hold my waist or you’ll fall off.” 

At this moment, you’re so deeply relieved he hasn’t read your letter. It eases the touch in your hands as they come to his front. Shirt folded above your clasped hands lies like a veil.

That feeling, of when a perfect alignment of past and memory presents. It washes over one as soften, melancholic, whiplash. You hadn’t thought about his scent in years, but as they chase the sun yet never pass it, his shirt touches your cheek. In his home where they used to sit on knees beside each other. It flutters your heart tenderly. 

At the high end peak you felt burdensome. Juyeon reassured you while weighing onto the pedals standing. He seemed to quietly persist in breathing through his nose, even when he was audible panting. 

He led the bicycle to the front, beneath the shadowed roof; you cast your eyes over the asphalt end. The wind rushes through nature up here. As such the foreground, alive, before the still concrete and bricks. 

Juyeon called your name to where he waited beside the door. With a half a shoulder hidden by his own, the bell goes off. A lady opens and smiles instantly as she sees Juyeon. Her wrist in rose patterns reaches out for his shoulder, comforts it gently. Since you’re a stranger; you’re left to awkwardly observe and retell like a narrator. 

“Oh, you have a girl with you?” She smiles at Juyeon, which he returns. He introduces you to the lady while she weakly widens the door gap. 

She still talks when three cats come to the hallway rug. Curiously they silently circle your legs, but they too can tell you’re no threat. 

An orange cat, clothed in layers of orange fur, brushes its head against your calf. You immediately bend down to pet it. To figure out if this fox-like complexion existed in your past too; you tilt your head. But your cat’s were more like crows than foxes. 

Apparently something must have shown because Juyeon says from beside. 

“This is Belle, they had their own kittens here. Ours are probably resting on the couch.” 

You look up, “Oh.” 

The old lady goes to the kitchen to take out tea and biscuits. Meanwhile Juyeon guides you to the living room where three other cats lie in the cushions of a worn down brown couch. Their socks tenderly span across the clear floor, and it must have woken them up. You smile briefly when they instantly seem to recognize him; reach their heads up for touch once he sits. All weights deeper down the material once you sit beside him. Touching shoulders to see a cat lick his finger in his lap. 

Like a jet black scarf in his jeans pattern; it contrasts from the faint white mark–like a moon at night–on her head. 

“She’s so big now.” You say when visions from those evenings before the TV playing Sailor Moon. You called out her name–Luna–that day when you saw her cramped between her siblings. 

Juyeon also named a kitten after a TV show he watched..

“Is that Mum Mew?” 

Now in direction towards the floor; a larger cat, half underneath the couch, half on your feet. 

Juyeon laughs, “He’s Oscar now.” He leans closer and whispers, “I don’t think I’ve ever told her that was his original name.” 

They sit there until the lady comes out again. 

“It’s so lovely that you got a girlfriend, Juyeon.” She puts down the plate and the two look at her, “I’ve all actually thought about you a lot. I’ve been thinking about calling your mother to set you up with someone, I started to get a bit worried.”

The lady has an attentive x on her face. The skin on her forehead hides nothing as it folds, deeply contemplated. Only with your head down and suppressed smile, can you clearly notice the plates against wooden surfaces. Juyeon scratches his nape frantically while laughing. 

"Yeah, uhh–” He stammer. 

“You know, by your age, I was with many guys.” She sits down on the opposite chair. 

“We got together, then we broke up. I had a guy in Paris who I really liked.” She leans forward, “Back then I was so in love I wanted to stay. I thought he was perfect! Kind, handsome, sex–”

“What’s the type of cookie?” Juyeon suddenly bursts out. Leaned over the table pointing at the brown one that’s obviously chocolate. But the lady doesn’t seem to bother. 

“Oh, you see!” 

You press your lips, the color might have vanished. Though it was painfully awkward; Juyeon was just adorable enough to turn the situation endearing. She still describes in detail over her mother’s mother recipe; and Juyeon from the side nods his head attentively, like he always does. 

After another conversation, the topic returns. 

“So when did you meet?” 

Turns to exchange question marks between you. His eyes don't say much and you guess yours neither. 

Juyeon scratches his nape, “We’ve been friends for sometime.” 

Lady nods, “Since when?” 

“Like…” He looks at you for confirmation, “...fourteen or fifteen?” 

“Did you confess, Juyeon? Or Y/n?” She smiles and looks at you, “Juyeon is a bit shy, I’ll be surprised if he confessed.” 

He retreats back to the couch; sinks down the heavy material. You laugh lightly at how his shoulders, swallows by waves of brown textile. 

“Y/n actually liked me first back then.” He points out gently.

You freeze. 

“Then I confessed in university.” 

The old woman does a sweet smile; hands patterned of life lie like a cover over her heart as she looks at both. 

For the longer you’re in someone’s presence; one starts to adjust to the traits. But even how many conversations went on and the sun above crossed her roof; your shoulders hardened. Like irreversible death does to your physical state, you seem unable to look to Juyeon’s side. By all stars in the universe; you’re suddenly transparent. Obvious, translucent piercing glass. 

You looked out the window at the old woman’s house; terrifyingly, the sky was pink. All the world disappeared at fatal speed when they bicycled back to campus. There must be a sort of brilliant snow, in a color out of our spectrum, that rains down on Earth in summer evening. It leaves the landscape quiet and calm. Cicadas sing when everyone else ceases to. 

None of you felt like going to the dorms just yet, instead; you now sit in the auditorium. Though either laugh echoes throughout the wide open space, there’s a dissolving acid in your lungs, begging to drink all air. 

All those characteristics of a person reveal to the open world after all these years. Because you can’t remember Juyeon being so persistent in apologizing. They came in on the “girlfriend” incident; he smiled embarrassingly, felt guilty for forcing you in on it. You told him it was okay. 

After echoing silence; it soars through the auditorium. Juyeon reaches down his backpack with all its scattered papers. There’s a velvety pulse keeping the space next to you occupied while he’s elsewhere. Once Juyeon comes out of the canvas material; your eyes widen in terror, contrasting the melodic decoration of red velvet and wood. 

Your conscious runs desperately from this room, but physical state is in the same seat. 

Juyeon holds out a blue letter with your handwriting on it. 

“I should’ve said it sooner, I’m sorry.” He says in that gentle tone he always speaks to you with. Maybe a soft arch at the end of the sentence. Nonetheless, you imaginary stabs the mind resting in your bone cradle. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You look at him once before turning to the empty seat and make an expression. One of deep second hand embarrassment that comes from the very narrow part of ‘me’ and sends like shivers. 

“I understand.” Juyeon follows your movements, “You were not supposed to see that letter, they shouldn’t have been leaked.” 

Worried you might have genuinely caused borderline trauma for the poor guy; you turn to him, “I’m really sorry.” 

“No.” The corners of his lips turn into leaves of a red apple. His eyes clouds the color round the pupil and his height convulses barely as he leans into the seat. 

Parts of us never veins, and in front of you, he’s the same boy who patted kittens and was deeply sad when they parted from their mother.  

“I’m honestly very touched by it.” He admits. 

He was back in his childhood home for the last week before semester. When folding the navy sheets of his old bed; his mother came up. A letter in her hand with turquoise color and bubble arch letters in pink ink. Already, it couldn’t be something written in ‘today’. 

And Juyeon is truthful towards you. He read it on the train back home. Always oblivious but grateful nonetheless. Used the window like a passage to the time where you sat beside him on the bedroom floor. 

“Really?” You say surprised. 

He nods, “I’ve never gotten a love letter before.” 

You would scoff and tell him he’s lying, but as his appreciative eyes blur with the blue envelope; you don’t. 

“You know, I think you should join the writer’s club here on campus.” Juyeon smiles at you suddenly. 

“What?” You lean away. 

“Really.” His eyes shapes of honest o’s, “Like–of course there’s some grammar mistakes and you spelt ‘desperatly’ wrong, but you got the feeling!” 

Still the same skeptical expression answers him back. 

“I’m really serious Y/n.”

Own hands in your lap trail towards each other like opposite poles, “I’ll think about it.” 

You watch how he timidly holds the edges and opens the envelope again. Lips shaped in pout like he wonders. 

“Does it bother you if I keep it?” He asks. 

Head shake, though still confused, “No, you can keep it.” 

“Thank you.” He smiles endearingly and tucks it back between the papers and folders. 

A revelation wasn’t as horrid as you thought. Hyunjae’s was deeply embarrassing, but there’s a brief space for contemptment in your heart where anxiety wandered before. Like a visual sight of the butterfly; you look up at the auditorium and ponder over the hidden connections.

You didn’t expect anything from Juyeon; that time has passed. But his now grown up presence seems to fulfill this daily life too. 

“Did others get letters?” Juyeon breaks silence. Like always, his expression paints past the physical boundaries, and one could make out white lines of curious cat ears. 

You figure he means the “they shouldn’t have been leaked”. 

You nod and he tilts his head. Visual intrigue and anticipation from his seat, but you close off in rose pigment like tired flowers. 

“I'd rather not tell you, it’s a bit embarrassing.” You laugh and Juyeon leans back, reassuring. 

This anticipating silence doesn’t cease. It exists as a continuation, a ‘more’ before the ‘end’. One person can’t seem to leave the edge undiscovered, rather, you wait for the red thread to tie its last loop. 

“You know Eric has been looking for you? He seems to miss you a lot.” Juyeon finally says. Tone serious than anything else that left his lips. 

A stone grows between your throat, not acid. There’s no dissolving, just constant aching as you try to move. 

Juyeon continues to talk as you’re silent, “I don’t know what it is, but he’s very understanding…”

He pauses, “...and you know, cause you know him better than I do.” 

04 . CHAPTER FOUR

( tuesday, morning )

“Where’s the psychiatrist?” 

“At the library.” 

“No, I can’t talk to Juyeon anymore.” He groans. 

To drift from the flat roofs outside the window; Eric looks at Sunwoo, further the beige walls. Sunwoo’s head is deep tucked beneath the bedding; Eric crawls over from his own bed to the end of Sunwoo’s. When the weight leans towards Sunwoo’s feet, he closes the pink envelope and lets the navy sheets hide it. The cover comes off Sunwoo’s head by Eric. His face like the moon causes an eclipse over the sun and Sunwoo stares unenchanted back at it. 

“Y/n still haven't answered my messages, it’s been like three weeks!” Eric forces the pillow down. 

“I wouldn’t answer you either.” Sunwoo pats bedding over his chest while Eric throws the pillow at his side. 

They just became friends at the end of the last semester and decided to room for this year. As one’s social circles opens up in double doors whenever Eric comes; your name was one of the first he heard. Sunwoo immediately leaned intrigued at the name, but figured it was just a mere coincidence. He was bound to grow from youth and twine old names with new faces. 

Either way, destiny doesn’t exist, and he won’t take a bait from the universe. Though, Sunwoo threaded over that principle the week before uni started. He worked at the old summer camp and a letter came during the closing week. 

“To Sunwoo”, nothing else. Curiosity took the best of him and he opened the letter to see “From Y/n'' at the end of a massive paragraph. 

The universe got him this time, he admits. In how many positions has he reread the letter and dreamt of the yellow filtered summer from when he was thirteen. In truth he reminiscenced about you those summer’s after. Once reaching adulthood, he realized there was no point in yearning, it’s been years. But this late season has turned into the car ride home from that camp, still with you in vision, so close but not here.

At this point ‘Y/n’ feels like a mere fragment of his imagination; therefore he wont tell. Keep your name from any seekers and contemplate. 

After laughter; Eric plummets to the bed and looks up at the ceiling, feeling Sunwoo’s legs at his elbow. 

“I just don’t understand why she can’t talk to me.” He murmurs. 

“Did anything happen?” 

Only Juyeon knows about the letter Eric received from his best friend. A confession he has longed for since he lived in his castle (big house), but never would be granted. 

Eric thought their connection was stronger than this. Why did you send it if you weren't seeking answers? Why now, this place at this time? 

He has traced every curve of your letters; stared at facebook and mail box. Even the refrigerator at night for answers. 

Though everything the roommates did this summer; Eric can’t tell him, not yet. It’s the luminous memories coming to his ruins. Sunwoo is his presence. 

Silent melancholia climbs above the horizon together with the bleeding sun at the football field. Lines of the goals, rigid and angular, separate the pink-orange growing fragments. Breeze from east colds your heated heart while waiting on the bleachers for Hyunjae. 

You were forced to wake up; not following the united routine of the dormitory when he needed help for a training pass at dawn. But he’s not in sight. 

Half asleep leaning on the backpack, center of your lap; waiting for something holy to run past. 

World’s colors fade into abstraction behind the pupil and a small figure crosses the field. You don’t notice how it leaves the red tracks, closer to the bleachers. Same breeze that touched you passes through its shirt and by mere coincidence. He turns his head opposite from the sunrise and sees you lone illuminated. 

Sunwoo recognises the person despite different clothing. There’s an unconscious underlying characteristic in posture. Sunwoo has been entranced by his own world, but he did think a lot of the pretty girl who fell drunk out of the entrance at Jeno’s party. 

Slowly his feet take him further from the white lines. 

“You’re okay?” His voice tears the plaster away from your vision. 

To look up from the bleacher, a ruler higher than the green grass, they make eye contact. It takes a pattern of blinking but at last you speak. 

“What?” 

“I saw you at the party last Friday, I just wonder if you’re okay?” He repeats. 

A sort of second hand deja vu like nausea, spreads from the visual, coming back. Forces the parallel expression to the feeling, down and instead scratches your head. 

“Oh.” Eyes widen, “Yeah, I’m okay now, thanks.” 

Solitude pushes down into the field with the next breeze. The two of them linger in the same place though the conversation seemed to have ended long ago. You who tie eyes on the far tower of the male dormitory, look back towards him. He stands with barely knit eyebrows, two meters away. It’s not an uncomfortable stare whatsoever, rather curious as the sun rising above the world. 

You smile, “You’re trying to place me…” 

Trying destiny runs through him but nonetheless he’s taken by the sudden realization. You see how the expression unravels and a single shooting star passes the brown coloration of his left eye. 

“You’re Y/n; Y/n from summer camp?” 

You don't react as quickly and are now left blaring into the past and present and the same time. 

“We went kayaking together, don’t you remember?” He points at himself, “I’m Sunwoo.” 

The star falls in east and transcends pink orange shine throughout the campus. For a second; you would have fallen from first row down the grass field with knees bruised of embarrassment, but just in time, you realized that the address written on the letter wasn’t his, just the camp. 

“Sunwoo?” Your posture folds higher to come into view with his own. Truly there’s exciting nostalgia within. 

“I didn’t know you went here.” You say slowly. 

“Me neither.” Sunwoo laughs. 

While in awe over the struck of fate; eyes momentarily drift to the right. Another shadow cuts through the horizon and appears closer while jogging across the field. All light still shines in your eyes while standing up. They come in equal footing and quietly watch each other. He looks over behind and sees Hyunjae. Sunwoo doesn’t quite feel like leaving yet; wished they were stored a moment longer. 

His arms just barely lifts off his sides to embrace you, but the sharp sequence of Hyunjae and you strikes him at the spinal cord. Not wanting to disrupt your relationship again. 

You’re left with wide eyes as Sunwoo runs off the direction he appeared from. 

“Bye Y/n, see you around!” 

It all just played as if at two times speed. One hand lifts to wave from your side of the world while the last strands disappear beyond the goals. 

By peripheral vision, Hyunjae traces Sunwoo. Once more, there’s a torturous sensation growing between marrow bone and heart. When you look his way he feels your eyes held down on him only. 

“You never take water with you, Ice God.” 

While still a meter across, you throw the water bottle to him and he captures it perfectly. Hyunjae looks up with eye-framed windows like staring at the sun. 

“You’re close with Sunwoo?” 

Your bag falls to the ground, “We went to summer camp together, I didn’t know he studied here.” 

Briefly nod while his bag too comes down the grass. You lucid leaning onto the bleachers again–until Hyunjae starts sprinting in one place. The end strands of his hair in parallel motions and his child-like smile shine between the pauses. 

“Let’s run.” He says. 

“I have a volleyball match later.” Back falls to the second and third row as you complain. 

He laughs and takes your wrist, “Running helps with stress.” 

White ribbons knitted along the green corners; they jog the red track field and do a few rounds. Each passage closest to the bleachers you see the shadows diagonally downgrade across the seats. 

Despite having their lungs barely reaching air; Hyunjae persists in conversation. It presses from Earth towards your upper body as you unconsciously choose words before steps. But Hyunjae too seems incredibly out of breath for someone that trains as much as he does. 

You won’t admit it just yet–if ever–that his company is actually enjoyable. 

He lingers across the sport’s center until the shift has ended, and talks to you in insignificant states. In one way; your long shadow at the end of your feet feels guilty. An idea of a self serving dude with too much attention. In truth; he laughs a lot. 

“When’s the game?” Hyunjae asks as their feet come out of synch. 

They stand still catching breath. 

“At three.” You sigh and start walking to the bleachers. 

“Then, I’ll skip this lesson.” Hyunjae stands next to you. 

He takes out the water bottle you gifted him. Presence from your side lingers on him as he drinks, and he raises his eyebrows at the long look. 

“You don’t have to come though.” The lines above eyes cross in a slight perplexed X. 

“You were at my game last time, I should come to.” Hyunjae smiles gently. 

( tuesday, afternoon )

“Need to go to the toilet; nervousness makes me pee.” 

‘21’ in bold font disappears behind the bended wall. You direct towards people in fitted shirts as patterns before the teal walls.

It’s not usual for you to be nervous before games; nor to be completely absorbed by else’s. Now you’re unconventionally a bit more dreamy. The halo in your eyes, up at the sky and shoulder’s slack as if moon-touched. Your teammates pointed it out too when you didn’t answer after ‘Y/n!’. 

Sunwoo reentered your life this morning. The boy that had caused such a heartbreak it was unbelievable. And despite your time changes, you found yourself counting the star constellations he told you that summer. 

This sort of unending chase starts again, that the letters dated to the old camp will find its way to him. Like a foolish child's secret. 

You also wonder why Hyunjae was so persistent on going to your match. One could thread through the interactions and guess he’s become comfortable in your life too. But there’s a brief self reflection. You neither rejected him to come or encouraged. Maybe you want someone up on the bleachers shouting your name, even if it’s not Eric. 

Wooden floor reflects the studio lights like water. Eyes wanders immediately from teammates up to the bleachers. Blue plastic seats on row, to the very windows where it barely collides with the roof. There’s a few silhouettes in groups up on the high rows. Everyone waving their hands to someone, not you. 

When you see number 21 stop before the white line and bring her arm high up to one standing; you suddenly regret not messaging Eric. Though, just as fast; he maybe wouldn’t even have showed up? 

One loud whistle comes from the left; your head directs off the green line tracing vertically. Sees teammates reach their hand out for you to the ring building at the side of the rectangular room. On the opposite, mirrors like theirs in green shirts, they gather.

Thin water like bubbles trace down the narrow row from your temples. All these bubbles that have accumulated beneath the shirt, down knees and threading your throat like a transparent necklace. 

Once the last whistle soars across ceiling; you return to the corner of teammates. Someone touches your arm while running for water; a teammate smiles sincerely but exhausted. 

When shoes are in line with the white painted diagonal; your name chants above all noise. From the floor, your eyes see Hyunjae coming down the blue seats. You aren’t able to reiterate his name before arms of his own wrap around shoulders. 

The invincible spot of cologne sits beneath his shoulder blade. Evoking gently as your chin, supported by the broad shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back and try to look at his face but only reaches his ear. 

Suddenly you feel a bit insecure. 

“I’m really sweaty, Hyunjae.” You laugh awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” His hands retrites without walking back. 

Lips curve to gentle his face and the eyes like porcelain. 

“, and it fits you.” 

A strand falls before your eyes; tucked in by his hands like a dove’s wing. 

Once the match heat flush red, another round of pigment paints your cheeks. There’s no hinder above your eyes left, but still you shake your head and cough; all while Hyunjae still smiles. 

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” 

His expression, more blinding than the long lights above. It’s impossible to not curl up before. You have a certain love for looking away when adoration blooms like spring season on him. Somehow you seemed to have missed when he came to the bleachers too. 

It’s quiet, but Hyunjae still feels like hearing your voice. 

He starts, “You did grea-”

“Y/n!” 

A voice so deeply teared apart and assembled within your mind, that it exists stored in the furthest corners. There’s a certain nerve created just to react to that tone fall, you believe. 

With eyes widened and fingers loosen from each other; you pierce towards the blue door. People still run past your double vision, but for a second the world stopped. 

Eric stands with hands in the blue frame. The universe must’ve heard that wish you prayed before, and in some way, full of relief and exhaustion, you’re happy it did. Eric is visually as hesitant as you, bearing fear and soft in heart pulses. 

“Sorry, Hyunjae, it’s something important.” You jog up to the double door determined. With one last glance to the bleachers, “See you later! …Thanks for coming!” 

Confinement exists excruciating; you hoped it was just the sunbleached walls with square hole windows that trapped them. But not even the open atmosphere, heaven to the infinite universe could save them from what’s been left unsaid. 

Eric asked while passing doors “I have messaged you for two weeks, why didn’t you answer?”. You could only look at him for a second before turning to the open field. His expression begs of confusion, but truly you think he knows why. 

It’s silent. Wind from east campus brushes between the grass. You become the only thing stagnant along the heavy constructions weighing down on Earth as Eric walks up the bleachers. Blue faded denim pockets console his hands as he holds sight on his converse before white plastic. 

“You didn’t even tell me you had a game today.” He refuses to make eye contact. 

Head falls low; everythings to remind you that guilt is the heaviest matter on Earth. 

Theoretically, it’s supposed to be useless feeling alone or unloved with a person like Eric. Sometimes you catch yourself staring in mirrors to search for another pair of eyes. But it’s hard to be miserable when Eric’s been a phone call away. 

It was lonely without you, but I pushed you away. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally say. 

It’s the only thing you get out as you walk up the bleachers. Together on the second row; they watch the green grass and its maroon building boxes. A mellow sun on the edge of disappearing while the land continues flat forever. A wind of different temperature while the concrete still radiates warmth. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you Eric.” You speak again. 

Their shoes in different font over the white row; you look at them before his side appears in the same position as you. They make eye contact in what feels timeless and it trips on your heart. 

“I was-” 

“It’s oka-” 

There’s silence as they stare at each other; anticipating the other. Though the ink period of the passage becomes laughter as their shoulders collide like the southern and north pole. It ends up being Eric who speaks. 

“You’re forgiven.” He smiles and Earth sighs of relief with you. 

The two poles of their angular edge bind them gently. North and south diasporas sit in silence, whispers of the flat city come from all directions and it smells like grass or nothing in particular. 

A closed connection where everything flows freely without hinder; you had nearly forgotten about that feeling. 

Courage drapes whatever embarrassment was left in you. To breathe in before honest confession. That you love him deeply still, though any romanticized visions are of the past. 

As you think of it; a part of the old self frees and runs with you back towards the grass field. 

“I actually like you too, Y/n.” 

It hitches in your throat. 

“You don’t have to answer yet.” His smile reeks of cotton candy, and the hand on her shoulder before he leaves radiates in puddles like theme parks. 

“I’ll wait for you, princess!” Eric shouts with his hand in his pockets before turning his back. The same nickname he’s called you since seven, never understanding why. 

The stark contour of the real world fades as he disappears towards the dormitory until he’s just a mere dot. 

It’s still warm, but summer has made one privileged. You feel like wearing a jacket as your old self now takes the empty space beside. 

05 . CHAPTER FIVE 

( thursday, afternoon )

Ji Changmin has never been great at sport, and that’s never with a big N. Last night the breaking news of a 2 day beach party got delivered by the infamous friend group, and of course, everyone would be playing the mandatory volleyball games. 

Changmin took his backpack and ran, hoping Eric would be too busy arguing with someone else to notice the empty chair. But at last, Changmin walked up the dormitory corridor with Eric hanging from his left calf like chained. Desperately begging that it wouldn’t be the same if everyone doesn’t come. 

One thing led to the other and every dorm heard a passing march of footsteps to the other end. Changmin was running after Eric whilst he screamed of absolute terror (traumatized from the year before when changmin chased him down the campus, drunk). In a last attempt of escape; Eric jumped Juyeon’s room and made a borderline olympic leep down the bedding before Juyeon processed the door had been opened. 

Like the unofficial therapist he is; Juyeon told Changmin he has a friend in the volleyball team that can teach him this afternoon so as to not embarrass himself completely. 

And that’s how you stand in the same hall; wide eyed and chills growing like rose stems it might strangle you. Though, you could’ve been more embarrassed as Changmin looks about the same. 

With an aggressive tilt to your shoulder while eyelids reach your eyebrows; a firm stare directed at Juyeon. Quietly it signals “what the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Changmin?!”. 

He doesn’t get it. 

“...and he’s really bad.” Juyeon ends while smiling. 

“I’m not that bad.” Changmin side eyes the taller one; also in search for some backup. 

“Yes, you are silly.” His eyes crease in turn with the ends of his lips. From the right side, his hands come up to ruffle the sprout of Changmin’s head. 

All three compiled the net up. You had no interest in bringing up the letter for either Changmin or Juyeon; therefore you rigid and pale served the first shot. 

But thankful for Juyeon’s excitement and obliviousness (surprising) to the reunion he just set up; the tension wore off Changmin’s shoulder and your pigments returned. 

All would rotate between the two sides of the net. You would purse lips to a thin line and turn the plastic of your shoes on the hard floor before running up to Changmin to show him how to serve. At first you stood a little less than a meter behind him; shoved gestures in the air to somehow manipulate his own body to do the same movements. But at last you went up to him, held his hand like gentle rain. 

There was not a bruise or patterns of shades on his palms. Either he’s absolutely addicted to hand cream or those text books of his must enchant his skin while turning pages. 

Changmin felt fragile like all ancient history when you showed him. He tried to be quiet, shyly only talking to Juyeon, but couldn’t help but let out shrieks every time he missed or won. It was just like board games at the dinner table when their parents whispered in the other room. 

You suddenly shout, “Move!” 

Juyeon’s on the opposite side of the two and forced the ball up to the roof with neck breaking power. 

You see how Changmin doesn’t; instead glued to the floor with knees rigid and his hands come up in chest length as if it will save him. You desperately swing your shoulder to the right, but all actions are in vain when their foreheads collide. Force acts up on them and leads them to the ground. Swear it was visible stars circling both heads. 

As the collision wears off and presence hits you as a second impact; terrified you watch Changmin between own two arms down the floor. Legs have his stomach tied to the flooring; 

where in all directions you are. And when they both blushes of embarrassment; Changmin’s hands come a little higher up his chest. 

“You’re supposed to chase the ball.” You stutter and hastily push up from him but miserably fails as the clothing material slips on the floor. 

“I’m sorry-” 

Changmin, just as terrified, apologizes while pushing himself off the floor. One way and two directions; they shut their eyes painfully as the point between their eyebrows hit each other again. One step further down his stomach.

“You didn’t even tell me we had started.” Changmin complains and holds his forehead, looking at Juyeon who climbs under the net. 

You slide off him; knees supporting any weight while at the end of his calves. Great silence from the tunnel system in the high ceiling expands over the yellow walls. It scratches in their throats that you cough. It was enough to crack the tension layered like a glass dome. 

“I don’t feel the same, Y/n.” Changmin sits up. 

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh because you know what he means without asking. Fingers left racing the floor.

“Old story; you were not supposed to get it, I’m sorry.” Guiltily purse lips in, “Also, sorry for falling on you.” 

Suddenly gentle, his legs come over in crisscross and he leans closer to your figure. 

“Yeah…it’s fine.” He confirms in same tone, “Though, I appreciate it. The letter.” 

He pauses. 

“...I had no idea.” Changmin admits.

You laugh, “Really? I was super obvious.” 

“You think so?” He skeptically smiles. 

To bring your arms to an imaginable table and articulate, “I literally held my arms over the textbooks to lean over to you..” 

“I just thought you were a bad listener.” Changmin smiles, bothered, like he always does.  

They both laugh. 

Another shine made by the sun outside draws with a ruler down the yellow wall. It has an angular cut in where it has a darker wooden frame just above the floor. Like the highlight is a window to the midsummers of one’s childhood; you dare to hold eyes open and watch. 

They used to sit at the dining table where the pattern cloth folds at your knees. Because you were way too shy to invite him behind your room door. Sometimes, laughs loud enough for them to hear came from the living room where both their mom’s sat. Mostly they whispered; never understood why. 

When they were younger, he was mostly intimidating. So much taller and just his glasses felt like a sign of great intelligence. But truly his personality held some sort of shine you believed was a leftover from some ancient spell along the yellow fields. 

With their families having dinner sometimes; the two of them used to play board or card games late into the afternoon when the adults still sat along the dinner table. You didn’t want to invite your brother when you finally had time to talk to Changmin without it being about math, but he was way too nice to leave him out. 

“Is your cat good?” Changmin asks suddenly, “Or is he dead?” He knits his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Smiles and thinks of how Scuba Steve, in his orange white complexion used to jump into Changmin’s lap while he was tutoring. And when he talked to him so sweetly and petted him along the long fur; her teenage self used to dream about their future (delusion). 

“It feels like he liked everyone more than me.” You admit while leaning into your palm. 

“I’m sure he liked you too.” He laughs. 

“Are you going to the beach party?” Changmin suddenly asks, “You’re close with Eric, right?” He knits his eyebrows, “Aren’t you together with Jaehyun too?” 

“No, no, no, I’m not with Jaehyun.” You fall back to the floor and hands melt down your face. 

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You add, “But no, I’m not going.” 

“Why not?” 

Visions from the past weeks pass like a bad trailer and you close your eyes. Sunwoo and Eric run across the field in a sort of evangelical light and Hyunjae in the far corner.

You sort of lie, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to meet Eric.” 

Changmin stands up, “I’m only going if you do.” 

“Don’t do this.” You complain. 

“No, whatever’s going on, we’re fixing it now.” He takes your shoulder and forces you up. You whine again and try to make the weight fall back to Earth. 

“I’m fighting volleyball and you’re fighting Eric, great!” He cheers.

There was a lot more than Eric you had to fight this weekend. 

The ball goes flying in their direction again. It lands on Changmin’s head and forces his glasses to the floor. They both look to the right and see Juyeon stand awkwardly upright, hands hanging like leaves as he longs for the ball. 

“I missed.” He deadpan. 

You take the ball and look at Changmin. He smiles knowingly before you both rush at Juyeon. 

( friday, morning )

“Do you want some?” 

Your head turns to the right where the sun shines through the glass brighter. It ceases through the back of his loose strands like the tree crowns from summer camp. 

When you came down to the bus station, Changmin waved at you from a stack of backpacks piled like a mountain. Juyeon stood slightly behind and followed the shoerter’s movements. You asked them if they plan on moving with that; Changmin answered it was Juyeon’s and Eric’s bags. He had–while straightening his posture–just taken the necessary. 

When all had arrived, you got a third row seat at the back beside Sunwoo. You had met again on campus. It turned out between all those words that both were going to the party this weekend. You mentioned how you’re mainly here as Changmin’s emotional support.

Sunwoo– a little horrified– told you he’ll have eyes in the back of his neck for this trip. Hyunjae, Eric or anyone else for that matter could come up from behind and throw hsi poor body in the water. With both in desperate situations, they jokingly built a pact to have each other’s back on this trip. 

So when you sit beside Sunwoo, and look down the space created against the armrest where he reaches out a pink package. He shakes it and you smile before taking a hand off the backpack. 

“You stole my pocky?” 

Tearing away from that space; they look behind the red seat to see Eric leaned over the two. He pierces down at Sunwoo with a dumbfounded O of his lips and starts pointing at the roots of Sunwoo’s hair which he ducks away from. 

“I didn’t steal it.” He defends. 

“It’s mine, I bought it this morning.” Eric looks at you, begging for sympathy, “Now I have no snacks.” 

“You said you weren’t going to eat them.” Sunwoo hides them. 

“They’re mine!” Eric hangs down the seat. Immediately you take the edge of his sleeve as if he’ll fall on you. 

“You’re gonna eat them now?” Sunwoo taunts, “Take the jelly grapes.” He throws out a plastic package from his bag while still chewing. 

“Let’s split it.” Eric deadpans while holding out his palm. 

“I’ll buy you one later.” Sunwoo repeat. 

Eric laughs from above, “You literally just asked Y/n!” He points. 

Sunwoo gets quiet for a second; looks up et Eric, before back at Y/n. 

“Can’t you just eat the grapes?” He shakes the package up in Eric’s face. 

Feet fall back to the floor, the row behind them and Eric, still dumbfounded, points at Sunwoo while stunned searches for assent in you. 

“He’s shameless.” Eric sits down. 

Where the dense complexes only ends when shore starts, the bus ride isn’t long. Despite constant traffic, conversations over the unconscious roaring of the bus engine; you resisted the falling weight of eyelids but at last, gave in. The last minutes when blue hues start to form between the windows and houses lined up against the sand. Head falls onto Sunwoo’s shoulder. 

Changes surprises him, but just as immediately he gently falls back into his seat and your head comes between his neck like the last piece of a 100 puzzle. How could he describe the violent but gentle flutter that grows from a part in his chest and blooms into all directions. And when each stem leaves its youth and creates rosen petals at his fingertips; the playlist in his headphones changes song. 

A melody of 80s slow paced rhythm and a voice soft like silk; lies over the muted woven chorals and yellow of the beach houses. Tiny flowers in perfect composition, like a trail across each street and when he sees the roof of the largest beach houses, just below the shore; Sunwoo wishes the bus would take one more round. 

He dares to look down.  He has seen this image before. All those movie nights in the dining room at summer camp evening. When he rushed to take the seat beside you before anyone else. And towards the end of the long hour you couldn’t keep your eyes open and leaned just like now, on his shoulder. It’s been so long but it doesn’t feel like a season has passed since that summer when he sees your hand lightly touching his own. 

“You need sunscreen, Jaehyun!” You wave the blue plastic tube while slipping down the sand. Hyunjae looks over his shoulder, smirking questionably to her while you come closer. 

“You’ll get skin cancer.” You squint when the blue sky shines behind him. 

“You do it then.” He smiles. 

Holding hands above your eyes, hoping it’ll cease all rosen blushes, “I’m not your mom.” 

“Please, Y/n.” He shakes your forearms, pouting. At first your own hands come up to his chest to force him off, but retrites like touching a hot stove as he’s shirtless. 

“Okay, okay.”

Overarching sand, up to the wooden porch, frees from the rest when they walk up. Hyunjae quickly takes the lead when he jumps up on fixed ground and takes a seat on the edge of the porch. How he wiggle his legs like an excited child while smiling so brightly; you didn’t know he could. You fall to knees behind him and awkwardly look over his hair. 

“Can’t you just do it yourself?” Sun highlights his skin from above. The sharp points of his shoulders, down to his arms, seem soothing against the sharp sand. That specific smell of sunscreen, so deeply ingrained into summer, trace along the porch. Your palm hesitantly moves back and forth between the flexed spot of his shoulder. 

“Just do it, Angel.” Hyunjae looks back at you encouragingly, but you quickly lie the cold sunscreen on his skin to divert him. In the clear summer sun spotlight, your cheeks luminates of struck pink. 

“Ah, it’s cold.” Hyunjae’s shoulder rises up and you continue soothing it in one hand. 

“Don’t complain.” You try to sound normal. 

They got along more than you originally thought. Hesitant to calling people friends, but you guess that's what they are. Though, friends shouldn’t blush of nervousness from innocent touch, right? Especially when Hyunjae leans back further into your hand, and you wonder if it’s wrong. 

At the same time; Eric peeks from the doors to the beach house. He tries to convince himself he’s longingly looking at the open shore, but it’s merely a background to Hyunjae and you.

It’s not that you’re lying, he thinks. You looked more than authentic that day, he asked if they were together and you denied. It’s not a competition, but still he feels a burn coming from another direction than the sun when your hands go to his neck and Hyunjae laughs from tickling. 

“Y/n!” 

You turn from Hyunjae and see Eric coming closer. All that in one motion, you forgot about the painfully obvious red of your face. It isn’t until Eric’s eyes widens and he falls in height to take your left cheek. 

“You’ve burned yourself, Y/n.” Eric traces with his thumb the rose colors of your essence and  to feel it coming off your skin, embarrassingly paint your soul. At this point,  nervousness would leak out from your skin, but by Eric’s and Hyunjae’s wide eyes and open mouths; they’re completely oblivious to their work. 

“N-” Stuttering out the beginning of a no; you stop suddenly as there’s no good excuse for the color. 

“Let me help you.” Hyunjae reaches for the tube down the wood and you immediately try back from Eric’s gentle palms. 

“No, no, no, it’s just heat.” 

“Water.” Eric wants to get you on foot, take you to the kitchen. 

“You need a cold bath.” Hyunjae says quickly after and without looking at Eric takes you in bridal style. Hand lets go of Eric’s and he’s left standing as you in panic tries to convince Hyunjae to turn away from shore. Hyunjae laughs while shouting that you’ll overheat.

It’s a dark seemingly normal, but guilty jealousy Eric watches the older one throw his best friend down the water. You’re quick on your feet again, and start chasing Hyunjae further down. Laughs come from that side while Eric tears his eyes off the new waves; clench his fist because frustration might visibly leak out his skin, and turn back to the house to take his mind off. 

It was only a limited amount of sups, you shared one with Changmin. They had agreed to alt the paddle in interval, but it was you who ended up dragging them both along the surface while Chnagmin sat behind, criticizing the solo sups. 

His victim was mainly Juyeon who traversed the first ocean layer for a good minute playing God until he lost balance. The entire group laughed while he tried to climb up. At the same time Sunwoo laughed so hard he was second to fall in. 

Changmin did well, all things considered, when it was beach volleyball. Juyeon and you cheered on him. That brought him enough confidence to stand at the front. Which wasn’t his greatest moment as he fell head first into the net. 

Sun’s, fleetly asleep above the horizon. All those hours of shine still left like a memory in the sand while four of them still play, the rest swimming, taken a seat with the group who grills or in the house. Laughter with the waves collide, creating a divide of foam. Breeze ensues their hearts. 

It smells of garlic smoked marinade from behind once the ball comes over again. Though at first refusing to go, you’re still thankful for Changmin who desperately forced a game over either way. 

Soon there’s food and you sit on the porch once again. Sunset like a filter over the shore and its houses, maybe the heart too. 

“I have some for you.” 

You look up at who you thought was Eric, with a brightly printed paper plate, gathered of the same choices since childhood. But you blink once, realize it’s Sunwoo. He takes the space beside where only vague music accompanied earlier. 

“Oh, thank you, Sunwoo.” You smile and take the second plate. 

“No worries.” He bends down to eat a bite of his own food. 

A scenery in fleeting composition, scattered of dust passes through the peripheral. 

“I remember you used to take food to me back then too.” Unconscious of the tender light you hold while tracing the oil leaking across plastic shine. 

“Yeah,” He looks at his chicken, “Cause you were always busy sorting stones.” 

You scoff, “Why? You’re judging my hobbies?” 

“No,” He answer truthfully, “It was cute.” 

“My stones?” You tilt. 

“You.” 

Sunwoo’s voice is monotone like it wasn’t supposed to blemish your heart like the orange and dark blue sky divide. The bones across your shoulders and hover over chest convulse in like wings of the delighting butterflies. 

Sunwoo looks up from the food, “I don’t really remember how your stones looked.” 

You smile and take a bite, “I guess that’s why I married you back then.” 

Still confined between your own frame to prevent any sheer wings of escape; you miss how his ears perked up together with his horrible posture. Him in his sharp complexion becomes adorably curious. 

“You remember that?” He says surprised. 

“Of course.” She says as if it’s obvious. Sunwoo looks down at the sand as if to see the smitten reflection of his face in them. 

“I actually didn’t think you’d remember.” He says quietly. 

Another song on the playlist comes on and a group of people rush beside them. Jumping off the porch; their silhouettes darken in pink contrast as water evaporates on their burnt arms. 

Sunwoo dares to look to your side; still eating and it further reminds him of times in circles when they sat next to each other. Something absurd with seeing you again like this. For some nameless reason you have lived all these years as a little girl in his memories, constantly visiting when summer’s approaching. Now you're here, finally at the same age. 

He knows he shouldn’t advance, shouldn’t take a step closer on the porch. Since behind him just some meters further, Hyunjae sits. How adoringly he thinks of Hyunjae because he has you unconditionally by one side. 

“I remember you told me about the stars.” You suddenly say. 

Sunwoo looks at you then the skies, vaguely guilty that there's nothing's left to see yet.

He smiles,  “Damn, I can’t see them, otherwise I would’ve told you about them again.”

You hold head tilted at his side while his eyes still squint for a light away to hit them, “You can show me later.” 

 You don't know what has crawled into you lately, but it’s dependent and has zero abstinence. 

As if the hangover from last week wasn’t enough to convince you; you’re drunk once again (this time in the kitchen). Juyeon worriedly came over, asking if you’re always this bad with alcohol. In turn you took his shoulders dramatically and said no, shaking him. 

And you weren't the only one. In the same vein, at another window by the house; Eric found Sunwoo staring dead into the reflection. When asked what he was doing, Sunwoo simply replied he’s staring at bird shit and laughing like it was the funniest thing. 

Most people are still outside. Fairy lights might look like fireflies in this state as it cradles lightly from night weather. As people cross the sand it changes patterns. It lays a plastic cup further away which Eric runs to pick up. You don't know what song is playing when the high frame expands as walls in all directions, but you think it’s good. 

“Can you dance?” You look at Sunwoo. He turns confusingly with bad posture from the bird shit. An awkward beat drop passage muffled by the walls takes the silence. 

Suddenly you jump up to him in another rhythm than the beat. Smiles wholeheartedly while waving arms.

“I can’t.” You answer your own questions and do a spin. 

Sunwoo’s hangs down its sides like towels over the branches. You reflect in highlights by his porcelain eyes. He must look extremely out of it as the pupils can’t concentrate on the shifting lights and his amused smile. But you couldn’t tell. 

You force his tired arms up in an awkward rocking-back-and-forth swing. He laughs that his teeth show when you start complaining how he’s stiffer than the expensive couch behind them. 

“Let’s tango.” You take his arms and they start circling around the room with either hand on their shoulders and next in each other’s clasp, straight forward. Sunwoo’s laugh overpowers the music as they nearly collide with the couch. Through the window frame they must look like a middle school couple. 

And as if galactic alignment was truly divine; the next song on the playlist slows to a vintage soundtrack as if from an old romcom. They’re still laughing when the circles haste and all weight stills on the carpet lining. 

They’re so drunk, Sunwoo can’t hold himself when your face comes so close. 

“You know…” He starts. 

“No.” You deadpan.

“Don’t speak.” Sunwoo complains and you fall one step backwards from laughing. 

“You know, we’ve reached our 11th marriage anniversary.” He smiles drunkenly, “I think I deserve a kiss for surviving our long distance.” 

“You haven’t even shown me the stars yet.” You whine and curl his hand in a weird way. 

“I know, I know.” He screws his eyes, it looks like it hurts.

“Just give me a kiss and we’ll go outside.” He purses his lips out. 

“Can you even name the constellations still?” You knit your eyes. 

“Of course, there’s Little bear.” Sunwoo points at your nose. You contract your head and watch his finger tip with big eyes. 

“I’m actually a Capricorn.” 

Sunwoo’s lips curve harder as his head falls between the space created from their chests. You watch the root pattern of his hair before he comes up again. 

“You’re really cute.” He smiles. 

You can’t help clasp his hands and twine fingers even harder, “Really?” 

He nods that his fringe follows. 

“Am I cute too?” Sunwoo asks, leaning in.

You think, rolling your eyes slowly, “No.” 

He pouts with big eyes. 

“Again,” He flicks your nose lightly. 

“Me or the flowers?” Sunwoo points at a vase beside the couch. You turn over your shoulder to see the arrangement of pink blemishes with white roots. 

You pretend to think, “Hmm.” 

There’s a anticipation like a butterfly on the last leaf, flickering its sheer patterned wings before taking off. Just like that, it pulses of thousand wings in both your hearts. All as Sunwoo lean in closer. Fingers laced through the other like silk and he pulls you closer by them. When the heat accumulated in the chests collide, with your lips merely touching his own. The tension weighs heavy, it might impend on the room. 

The door from the kitchen beside them forces open. 

Both Sunwoo and you loosen the lace and throw yourself onto the couch. A painful thud erupts from the back rest when Sunwoo crashes nape first. Your condition is in dangerous state, therefore you land about 10 centimeters too short and glide off the couch to the floor. 

When the outer door closes and Eric passes by the frame, he sees Sunwoo decked out; arms hanging lifelessly and his mouth opened, supported by the backrest. 

The cup in his hand nearly topples over when he rushes to stand it on any flat surface. It pulses through the floor when Eric comes down to you. A cold hand from all the ice soothes your forehead and you look up to see Eric’s fringe like a sheer curtain before his eyes. 

“You’re okay?” He asks worriedly, “How much have you drunk?” 

Eric takes your arm and scolds you gently. As you stand up you incoherently try to defend yourself, but quit abruptly as Sunwoo comes into the story. 

Eric guided you up to the bedroom’s at second floor, leaving Sunwoo to die. 

“Eric?” You lie down. 

“Mm?” He flatten out the sheet above you. 

“I forgot.” 

Eric snorts, “Really?” 

“Mm.” You insist. 

Two essence divided between the mattress line in the mit; still staring at the same ceiling. Eric never leaves your side; instead insists on talking about nothing and everything while time wraps in a 4th dimension of one's mind until you can’t rhetorically answer “Mm?”. 

Eric finally ceases to babble when shifting his head to your side. The pillows bud like a flower on his cheek when his body completely draws to your field. He knows you will probably feel like shit tomorrow morning, but for now you lie neatly above the creases like white flower of a heaven’s cross field. 

The incredible magnetic field of your essence seems to draw in more admirers than just himself, Eric understands. He barely convinces himself that the letter is an eventual sign of their destined love, but just barely. 

I can’t know who you dream about as you sleep soundly right now, he thinks while admiring. A face or two flashes before him and Eric sits up. Quietly look at the framed picture on the wall before back down at you. 

For now, he’s in denial. 

Eric takes one hand off your side to lay on your stomach. His bare fingertips dare to soothe out nothing’s on the cheek just to feel your warmth. He hesitates for a second, but before fully walking off the bed and closing the door; he bends down to kiss your cheek, just gently. 

06 . CHAPTER SIX 

( monday, midday )

The day has finally come–or not come as in an anticipated date set in stone from the past–rather Hyunjae woke up and felt courage. The last weeks they’ve seen each other nearly every afternoon, and for each time he imagines himself having persuaded you a little closer. And the last beach party seems to have been the silver lining for his confidence to finally confess how he feels. 

This afternoon they will meet on the track field for some regular training, but what you don't know is that he will be asking you to be his girlfriend, seriously this time. 

Though, between the lecture times, staring at strangers from the row tables; he consciously realized he doesn’t quite know what you like. Or of course, he knows you like astrology, biology, cat’s, exercising but just enough that you can walk guilt free home to the bed. That you always walk around with a first aid kit, and like a mother bandage burnt skin or wrecked ankles. 

But none of that is of use when your heart is supposed to flutter at his mere sight this afternoon. 

So at a table in the cafeteria; Hyunjae takes the opposite chair of a round table where Eric sits alone. Enticed in his own world; he jumps when the chair creaks of his weight. 

Hyunjae figured it was just to ask Eric, your best friend for advice. The older may stand a ruler inferior in emotion to Eric than Juyeon, but nonetheless they have spent many house parties together, jumping off the high roof or throwing pillows at the third. 

Eric always looks at him with a smile, nearly identical to his own. But right now, the red blisters' contours wave lower than what it usually does. His eyes adverts between the sad glass divide over the sandwiches and Hyunjae. But the older forces it in an identical manner to the left. 

Eric nonchalantly told him he doesn’t know what you would romantically like from him. Hyunjae complained saying he should know since they’re best friends, but Eric reiterates his line, “Yeah, just friends.” 

Hyunjae doesn’t cease from the chair, neither his voice. Eric looks at the sandwiches again and guilty bruises his fingers underneath the table. In Eric’s eyes; Hyunjae could win over anyone by just slowly articulate every crook of their name. 

It’s not to admit that he’s threatened, Eric thinks. To rationalize the frustration he theorize Hyunjae hasn’t taken enough of a time to get to know you. 

Eric’s never been evil. His moral compass holds him on the sane lane; even when emotions begs to pull the other way. But right now, while in silence, the magnetic field of the Earth pulls on the arrows. 

“Okay.” Eric puts down the drink. Hyunjae leans in attentively. 

“She wants a big, HUUGE confession. You know, those in rom coms where the guy comes out with a huge boombox and gives her flowers and has a big sign.” Eric takes his arms up in the, above his chest in height with his hair. To visually stun him he waves his hands down like confetti and shakes a hypothetical boombox. All while Hyunjae’s expression all visually gets more nervous.

“Okay.” He walks up without looking at Eric. Head deep down the floor as if thinking. 

( monday, afternoon )

The white streaks wrapped as a present lining across the field is the same as every time he walks past. But even when the scenery is familiar to his conscious, the heart anxiously breathes in quick patterns. It causes invincible scratches at the inner side of his hands while his eyes can’t hold a scene for longer than a second. There’s a couple walking past the fields down the west campus; Hyunjae’s head follows them until their backs are a mere blemish along the sidewalk. 

With his hand tightly knitted behind his back he looks at the grass growing up from under his shoes. Suddenly he looks up again. 

Like the world just ended; the sun’s growing, tearing all the accessible and it rounds the golden halo. You’re just left in trance watching how it all beautifully collapses. That’s what your presence does to his troubled heart when your upper body comes up the staircase. 

You wave with your free hand as you see him at the center of the rectangular land. Hyunjae doesn’t mirror it, instead refuses to change any position. You tilt your head in wonder for a moment, but nonetheless carry on towards his figure, until there’s just a meter across. 

“Hi, Jaehyun.” You say gently. 

“Hi, Y/n.” He shifts his head so that a part of hsi fringe falls forward. 

You turn to see his side profile, as if he’s sick. With concerned woven shape of your face, you ask, “Are you okay?” 

An awkward tenderness in his fronting psyche. To touch his shoulder might cause it to splinter in its frozen preserved state. Hyunjae clasps his hands that’s still behind; gaze your face as if though you were the first he’s ever seen. 

Silence insists to frustratingly exist after your question. 

When a scene of the entire world, flipped in your eye; he breathes in and falls with one to the grass. His hand trails as if cold to the pocket and takes out his phone, turning the speaker outlet in your higher direction. 

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Y/n?” 

A bouquet in pastel silk tightly concealed in a ribbon of a darker shade. 

“Hold on.” Hyunjae drops the mobile to the ground; the music practically disappears as it swallows by the grass. 

All eyes on the thin space of his front pocket as he struggles to let loose the bits of red paper. At last some gather in his palm and he throws it up in the air as enthusiastically one can without a canon. The flowers now fully extended as the last bits of craft paper adorn his head. 

A sore spot on his left knee aches under this weight. The teeth of his smile, slowly together as he bear witness to your expression, blinking cause your lips are opened but stunned. Though he can’t read good or horrible. As he starts tilting from instability he clenches the flowers tightly. 

“I didn’t find a boombox, and the party store was closed.” Hyunjae looks behind you instead of up. Embarrassingly wonder if you would have wanted a grand confession in the college cafeteria. He won’t say it, but in all honesty he didn’t have the guts for that. 

It feels like you’ve seen this scene before; in some movie lost to time, you’re sure it has crossed you once. The sad petals taken by the wind, fallen on his shoulders or thread beneath your feet. But still might be the most soft of all thousand interactions of your life. 

Hyunjae seems embarrassed, you can’t fully tell; he looks at you from passages but sways towards the right at the end. How the past and present crashes at once to see him fully and clearly without cover. He’s such a vision that this should flutter all the lonely parts in the arch marrow body, but nothing goes off. 

It’s like standing on the fourth of may, but no fireworks light up. 

You finally smile gently, still eyes on Hyunjae. His expression waits for even a whisper, but instead a hand crosses between the fragile space. Yours takes his wrists, behind where the fingers cross the stems. Gently tugging him up from the grass as the last bits of paper rock down his shoulders. 

“It’s really lovely, Jaehyun.” You smile and he’s finally up. 

The space opens again. 

“But I can’t.” You look at him as both lips synchronize withers. 

“I’m sorry.” 

A heavy wind brushes past; lies a weight on your hearts. Hyunjae, who has never once been the one pushed away, hears lone footsteps echo in the boned structure. It’s a bit embarrassing, it’s a bit sad; he feels like he maybe shouldn’t have said anything. 

You see in full vision how his mind travels elsewhere. Still with flowers and the barely audible mobile that now has changed track to a mellow love song of 80s nostalgia. How depressing everything suddenly became. 

“I still like you, Jaehyun,” You break the silence, “You were honestly a lot nicer than I originally thought.” 

He looks up. 

You smile weakly, “When I saw you on campus I thought you flirted with every woman and acted all big.” You gesture with your shoulders and Hyunjae laughs slightly. 

“But you’re actually very kind.” 

He reaches out the flowers once again. You look up at him with eyes, x-ed expression. 

“It’s still your flowers, I want you to have them.” He says gently. 

You hesitate but he shakes them in front of you. Once loosen on the tensioned shoulders; you take one hand out for the stems and look at them closely. Deeply pink with faded inner circles. 

( wednesday, afternoon ) 

That table at the cafeteria where they always meet has been occupied two days in a row. You come by between classes and yearn through the window, but at last; there’s always a shirt in a color Eric wouldn’t wear sitting in his place. 

At the changing distance through the evening, at the lone table beside your bed; all those papers in painful yellow highlight, tire sore eyes and vision yearns for the computer at the other side. Watch the letter box they communicate through everyday, but is now quiet. 

You’ve messaged Sunwoo through facebook; asked him why Eric ceased from Earth. He answered through digital letters that he’s busy, but truthfully Sunwoo knows better than anyone Eric scatters to avoid you. Eric won’t fully admit why; the closest to a confession Sunwoo got was a bleak understanding of inner guilt over something. 

“You’re sad.” 

You turn to the left where Juyeon sits with curious eyes before the library shelves. Side by side at the communal computers; he has watched you stare at the search page for four minutes without intervention. 

“Do you want to go and see the cats?” He asks gently. 

You sink down on the table. Hands curl up at the keyboard while the wooden surface catches your chin. 

“No, but thank you, Juyeon.” You say tired. 

“Is it Eric?” He asks, leaning down. 

You nod. 

“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m afraid we won’t be friends anymore.” You pause, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” 

“You should tell him that.” Changmin peaks from behind the computer, opposite you and Juyeon. 

“Honesty is always valued.” 

“You know, whatever it is..” Juyeon speaks from the right side, “at least having it said will lift the weight off. You have an assignment next week, right?” Juyeon points at the screen. 

“Eric would make fun of you for worrying about boys instead of studying.” 

You smile weakly. 

07 . FINAL CHAPTER 

( saturday, evening ) 

Edges of sharp stone scratches against your old bicycle. Those few streetlights with meters in between emits across the gravel. On the path from your old house, it was quiet like it always is in family neighbourhoods. But as you come closer to Eric’s old house; ruptures in form of music and laughter leak out the open windows. 

You had to stay longer in the library working. Time passed like it never does when one’s bored, and suddenly you had missed the first train and waited for the other. It isn’t too far out your old neighbourhood, just a few stations that with each passing minute gets dimmer and dimmer because of lack of lining lamps. 

Running the last passage to your front door to take the bike, and now you’re standing at his post. The same sign that hangs on the door, rusted of all year’s weather, intimidates you serenely. 

At last, with one foot you force down the supporting metal where all other bikes stand. Close eyes on the handle while the laughter is still muted. 

It has never felt so hard knocking on his door. 

The blurred window at the roof of the door; you stare at it when finally knocking. Anticipation hugs your knees painfully as you take a step back. Look at all places except the white door. Drag your hands along the clothing fabrics as if it’ll obscure you. 

Speakers frees from the door while you feel like running towards the woods. 

“Welcome in!” 

You don't recognize the man holding this door you’ve walked through since five. His expression contrasts your neutral one. There’s a red cup in his hand, he asks if you want some; you thank him, but reject. 

As you come in line with each other through the hallway with mountains of shoes, you look at his back, insecure, before speaking. 

“Do you know where Eric is?” 

He turns, “Hmm..” Scratching his nape and leaning toward the opening frames of all the different rooms. 

“I think he’s in the living room?” The guy points further into the apartment, you thank him. 

Despite all open windows and meters of space; the air is horribly suffocating. People sit two and two, talk in five’s, and a path like pattern goes through the crowd. You let it take you, hoping it somehow brings you to Eric. 

Your feet, that still have shoes on, cease to motion diagonally towards a large couch group. Between all those mere strange faces you’ve may seen once; a face so deeply dissected and remade sits in between. He’s at the center like the sun itself, and people gravitate towards him. 

Somehow you would go back to your corner, sink down quietly. But you’ve been running for too long. Hand behind your back, wrists rope tied while your conscious threats to slaughter from behind, push you forward. 

“Eric?” You say above the laughter, and his couch group turns towards you. 

You swallow when his expression changes to something calmly unreadable, “I need to talk to you.” 

A filter falls like a sheer cover of snow when he closes the door. They’re alone behind the house, blue illumination like an upside down universe highlights you from below. Neither Eric or you had said something, but it wasn’t noticeable until the world ran out of sound too. 

Eric’s silhouette leaves your side and sits by the edge of the pool. With his barefoots into the galactic mirror, his face shades and colors like the moon. You too walk to the edge, sit by his side and see his legs make waves throughout the water. 

He’s unfamiliarly quiet; similar to when you know something someone else doesn’t. 

“I think I like someone, Eric.” You say gently without wasting. 

He looks at you, soft and tender, “You do?” He smiles. 

You smile too and nod. 

His feet make water soar before becoming whole again. Your fingers tear at the concrete lining the pool. 

“...and I’m not sure he likes me back…therefore it can’t be you.” 

Heavy silence like the Universe itself weighs over them. World’s full of life, yet there’s an empty echo in the marrow arch of your cathedral body. 

Eric gazes at the transparent surface of the water, smiling weakly because it’s the only thing right to do.

“Though, I still love you, Eric.” You lean towards his shoulder. Tear his side profile like you beg it is not the last time you see it. 

“So much as you can possibly love someone, and a little more.” 

He looks up, fringe falling, “It’s okay, I know.” 

Voice fragile, so heartbreaking against the smile that could light up the entirety of the solar system. He’s like the pool beneath, a galactic universe tightly compacted into a pond. 

His mere existence makes your eyes glisten and words frail, “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

He smiles and takes your wrist, “Why are you saying sorry, princess.” 

They both sit there for a moment. The constellations pass a centimeter above the bended celestial before you walk up. Half disappear behind the wall while Eric is left at the pool edge. You can’t bring yourself to leave; having one eye on his back as if it'll fall when you go. 

Eric looks back to your wall suddenly, like he knows. 

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, nails exhaustingly tearing at the house. 

Eric shakes his head, waving you off gently before speaking quietly, “Go get your prince.” 

Stones shatter beneath the weight of two tires. All houses are drowned in nightshade glistens of warm lighted windows like the stars above, that is childhood. 

Grass divided into squares lined with fences; streamline, down the gravel path until it opens up in a wide circle. You know this place because here’s where everyone always met. 

All those gravel paths, identical to the one you just left maze down to a grass circle. The very heart of all these houses, a meter lower than the rest. You pass the path contouring it and all these strokes of green nature hinders you down. You stop with one foot off the pedal and lean your weight while standing up. 

Where all distance creates a perfect cross; a boy much familiar to you lies. His own bicycle stranded a meter or two from his still body. Laying on his back with his head tilted on its forearms. Sunwoo’s completely still like midnight around him. It calms you just how water drains from head down after sunshine, but heart tears at its veins. 

You found him. 

To let go of the bicycle; forcing down the metal to leave it standing. Eventually you walk towards him, slowly as if you’ll scare him away. 

About three meters from his feet; Sunwoo suddenly looks away from the star fields and up to you. 

“Oh, hi Y/n.” He says like he always does. 

You cease to stop, “Hi, Sunwoo.” 

He can’t quite place why you’re here. You seem to come up in unexpected moments; take him by heart like a sudden season though he’s been admiring the trees for an eternity. It begins with your hair; how it seemingly floods down on your shoulders. Just like the jewel reflection like glitter under your eyes . 

“You’re crying?”

You’re taken back by his question; taking a hand to the cold skin beneath your vision. Liquid dried tight to your complexion.  

“It’s a long story,” You stutter; head turns to the ground before your expression becomes decrepit, but poetical. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

After silence, you sigh; lending a bit of your worry to Earth. All the heavy mountains, all heavy oceans.

You start, “I have something to tell you.” 

Grass stands in between his fingers when they lie flat against the ground. Sunwoo forces himself up while observing your expression. You neither walk closer or further; chin falling in patterns as pupils pierce onto the sight behind him or the grass beneath his feet. Only in mere passages eye contact lasts. 

You open your mouth to speak, but realize you have a bad habit of coating everything in a thin layer of sugar as if feeding your words to a child. But there’s a certain bitter aftertaste in being honest. 

“I love you, Sunwoo.” The words free from a deep part within. Tears off the inner skin and momentarily aches the body cathedral. He doesn’t say anything. Sitting in place, whether it’s of shock or horror, one can’t tell. To expand the details of his expression, but there’s always two possibilities to his wide eyes and space between lips. Hurriedly you continue. 

“I really like you Sunwoo, I’m sorry.” You look down to the left, “I just needed to say it.” You open your arms, not like a hug, rather an impediment. 

“So do what you want, Sunwoo.” You breathe in heavily while searching for the world reflected in his window. 

“Just break my heart if that’s what you have to, please, just–” 

“I love you too.” 

“...do–what?” Your arms fall to their sides and the pupil without dimensions expands across the pearl, reaching the far edge of its colorization. 

“I love you too.” He stutters more this time. 

Every cosmic mass bulging on your shoulders and tearing your back convulses from behind. It like everything eventually does; changes form and frees for the roof without limit. It has compressed your lungs into tiny pulses, you didn’t even notice. Yet the milky way’s worth of celestial bodies frees from you; only eyelids show movement. 

You breathe heavily while looking at Sunwoo with parted lips. He looks just as cosmically affected as you. 

“But aren’t you together with Jaehyun?” He suddenly says. 

You’re quiet for a second before bursting out in laughter. 

“No…no.” You take your hands up before your chest and smile “You’re still there?” 

Sunwoo’s still crossed brow of confusion. Neither laughing nor speaking. 

“I was his fake girlfriend for the parties, but we’re not like that.” 

You pause. 

“We could never be like that…” You hold your arms behind your back, titling your head when a star aligns with his position. 

“Not when you exist.” 

He admires you deeply in the same way, one layer below. Knees have come up to his chin and he hugs them slightly while hypnotized following the last season’s breeze across your face. 

You’re not sure what is supposed to happen now. But truthfully, you could live adoring the opposite like this for an eternity longer. 

Though, Sunwoo has other plans. 

The surface of his shoes bend down the grass as he stands. The last meters dying to collapse cease from existence; all before you even lift your head from your shoulder. Just as your eyes widen he’s against you gently. Sheer touch of his fingers across your lower face before he tilts. At last you touch and love-soul bitten sensations fill two hearts. 

You look at him again after the kiss; his face so beautiful you believe he could overthrow the world. 

© littleroaes, written and all

a/ n : i kind of broke my own heart by writing reader and juyeon just being friends 😭 it took all my will power

love spectrum spoiler

have flirty/ cute dynamic in the beginning but becomes friends : juyeon, changmin

romantic storylines but do not end up with : eric, hyunjae

end game : sunwoo

tagging : @darcymariebraun-blog @sungbeam @tbzhub @sanaxo-o

[alicentofficial]

re: my last post about jaime and alicent being parallels, i got an anon claiming they couldn't be similar because jaime as a man is privileged in ways alicent isn't since westeros is a patriarchy. this fact is correct! however! characters can have shared experiences, internal conflicts and dare i say, even themes, despite the fact that they are in different situations. let me explain why jaime and (show)alicent are similar characters.

rape/sa mentions below the cut

(1) okay so fundamentally jaime's thing is that he views himself as being sworn to so many conflicting ideals that he will never be able to uphold all of them. he is essentially in debt to so many people that anything he does will make him an oathbreaker. i think alicent views herself in a kind of similar way, only its through loyalty rather than oaths. hence that "i have endeavoured to serve both my house and my country etc" line because alicent basically FEELS like she has sworn conflicting oaths to everyone and everything around her - her father, her children, viserys, rhaenyra, the gods, the ideals of house targaryen, the abstract concept of what it means to be a "good woman" in society, and the list goes on, they don't call her Alicent "Where is Duty Where is Sacrifice" Hightower for nothing! both alicent and jaime see themselves trapped in moral paralysis because they are so concerned with what they are or should be loyal to, and as a result they are both constantly being eaten alive by guilt and self-loathing.

(2) both became deeply entrenched with the royal family at young ages whilst simultaneously living under their extremely ambitious hand of the king fathers. both fathers basically do not care who their children turn out to be and are only concerned with them as far as they can aid in his own ambitions. in jaime's case this was lessened by the fact that it was essentially divided between him and cersei, but tywin aggressively only gives a fuck about jaime as being the heir to casterly rock (hence his underlying insistence that jaime will do this despite the fact that he has sworn an eternal oath preventing it) - jaime does everything else to become tywin's lion-of-lannister golden boy but he will still never truly have tywin's love or affection or approval because tywin is incapable of that. otto basically pimped out his teenage daughter to viserys, and then after she spent 20+ years doing whatever he wanted he STILL doesn't respect about her, firstly because shes a woman, and secondly because he doesn't view her as a person, he views her as a political tool. and both of them are intensely loyal to said fathers and compulsively seek the approval which they know (on some level) is never coming.

(3) both of them have extremely complicated relationships with parenthood - alicent because her children are all products of her sexually abusive marriage, because she essentially grew up alongside them, and because they too are viewed as political tools more so than as people. as a result she's pretty emotionally cut off from them (struggling to connect with helaena, the unhealthy dynamic with aemond etc) meanwhile jaime can't ever openly acknowledge his children or act like a father to them and sees them as an extension of his relationship with cersei. alicent's feelings about aegon (and to a lesser extent aemond) are this weird dynamic where she loves him a lot and wants to protect him but is also aware that he's an abusive monster. in asos there's a jaime chapter after joffrey dies where he has this moment of awareness that joffrey is his firstborn son, and he kind of wonders if he should feel anything, but he can't bring himself to, basically because joffrey is also an abusive monster. he kind of awkwardly tried to bond with tommen at one point and seems vaguely fond of myrcella but can't really get himself to properly contemplate his feelings towards them either. for both of them parenthood is so wrapped up in all these other layers of pain and guilt that they struggle to have healthy, loving relationships with any of their kids.

(4) they both use copes - alicent with religion and jaime with dissociation - to essentially avoid engaging with their inner conflicts. jaime started dissociating to avoid having to deal with any of the injustices he saw around him i.e. listening to aerys raping rhaella and deciding he could absolve himself of his bystander guilt by "going away inside". meanwhile alicent uses religion as an outlet for her rage because when she throws herself fully into religion and convinces herself that she hates things because they're sacrilegious she doesn't have to confront her own trauma and anger. like a big part of why she hates rhaenyra's children is because they're physical manifestations of the freedoms rhaenyra has which alicent doesn't, but she's not emotionally equipped to deal with that, so the only option is to really really REALLY convinces herself that they're abominations cursed by the gods and thus she is justified in how she feels.

(5) okay here's where you have to hear me out. i think, narratively, jaime sees cersei's role towards him in a similar way to how alicent views criston. cersei and jaime's relationship is obviously built on the recurring themes of lannister exceptionalism and pseudo-incest within their house, but i also think jaime holds on to cersei as this symbol of pre-kingslayer him. she is his other half so when he knows that he's failed and become a terrible person, he can just hardcore project all his hopes of what he could have been onto her and see her as this paragon of beauty and love and nobility. and because of this he spends a lot of the series wilfully blind to the fact that their codependent relationship has turned them both into extremely violent and unstable people. to a certain extent alicent also projects a lot of her own childhood idealism onto both criston and rhaenyra - rhaenyra is literally her childhood girlfriend companion and i think because she's so emotionally stunted she's still obsessed with their relationship as like, the simplicity and tenderness of childhood before her marriage. hence why she seems so in denial about the fact that the war is about more than just their their relationship - but more so i think her relationship with criston is similar to that of jaime and cersei. (up until recently lol) i think she also saw criston as this white knight tragic courtly love figure because theyre BOTH still obsessed with the ideals of chivalry and knighthood and can reflect it back onto one another, whilst at the same time continuing to practice their own hypocrisy. she is basically (in a very jaime fashion) sticking her fingers in her ears to the fact that criston is deeply unstable and and punches people to death when he gets angry. both cersei and jaime's relationship and alicent and criston's relationship are essentially echo chambers that make them both worse while allowing them to view themselves and each other as idealised figures of the white knight and the noblewoman.

[wordsinhaled]

hi there! I started following you after seeing your essay-long answers to DBD things in tags, and it made me very happy to see someone as deeply analytical as me about this show.

I wanted to ask you: if you were given the final say, how would you want the show to confirm both Charles' bisexuality and his romantic feelings towards Edwin (as both can be done at different points)?

Personally, I can't get the idea out of my head that it will be done with some kind of tragic goodbye, somehow Charles and Edwin have to separate, and Charles either verbally confirms it or kisses Edwin goodbye. Not saying that's what I want, but it's what I expect the writers to do.

Hope you're having a good day.

btw, would love to hear you talk more about timerogue (Fifteen/Rogue), I need more essay-long analysis about those two.

Hi there! <3 I am so happy you have enjoyed my tag rambles! And thank you so much for asking this great question, I had a lot of fun thinking through it!

I have many thoughts on this! Sticking them under a cut eventually because it is a long post!

Re: Charles' bisexuality: So the thing is I think that the DBDA universe generally seems to eschew labels in favor of showing rather than telling the audience what the characters' identities are. For example Jenny is interested in dating women, which is clear from her dialogue, and she goes on a date with Maxine, but she's never labeled anything. Edwin is never labeled anything by anyone in the narrative, either, but the narrative shows us that his only love interests and his desires and romantic feelings are for other boys. I would argue that we have been shown textually that Charles is bi, already, the same way the show shows-not-tells us other things. Charles by the end of the first season feels bi enough to me in a way that just feels like someone... living a bi life, and not yet realizing they might in fact be in love back with their best friend. I don't know how else to put it but I hope that makes sense. (My alternate, slightly sappier version of canon is that Charles fell for Edwin the first night, but has shoved it down for the duration of their friendship, but the former feels more likely as the direction I think we see on screen.) We are being told Charles is bi:

In the way Charles himself draws parallels between why he likes Crystal (his romantic love interest) and Edwin, pointing out they share the exact same traits

In the way he gives Crystal and Edwin the same genre of deep, loving gaze

In the way he thinks Crystal is fit, and he checks Edwin out, on multiple occasions, but only flirts with Edwin overtly in episode 8 ("My smile is pretty convincing," plus more than the usual amount of physical touch/proximity and less plausible deniability) once he can be assured by Edwin's recent confession that doing so will not be poorly received

In the different kinds of softness and masculinity he displays around both Crystal and Edwin

In the way that, despite not knowing the ending, he draws a parallel between himself and Edwin & a pair of lovers from classical mythology as though it is the most natural thing in the world to bring up the story of Orpheus & Eurydice, making overt the romantic potential of his relationship with Edwin

In the way he is so quick to write off that the two jocks were "just best mates" the way a person does when they are recognizing their own queerness in themselves and have to keep themselves safe from it, because of the environment that they are in (Charles being the Sports Lad, needing to fit in with other sports lads, and needing to avoid the censure/violence of his father)

And coming off the above, in the way that Charles navigates along the toughness-sensitivity spectrum within the social constructs of being "the brawn"

In the entire sparring scene in episode 1, tbh. The rituals are very intricate /drops mic

I understand the importance that's been placed by fandom spaces on "confirmed canon" queerness that is spelled out in so many words, given a label that can be pointed to to say "This character is definitely this!" but I think (and this is just my personal opinion) it can be reductive sometimes, and I don't really want Charles to label himself in that kind of way, just as much as I don't think the other characters needed the labels to "confirm" the queerness of their relationships or indeed of the show; having him be the one to do it for being bi would set him apart. I also think taking into account the time period that he grew up in, Charles would care more about living by the truth of how he feels and how he can use those feelings to connect with the one he loves, than what to call it. I just don't think we're gonna get like a "Hello my name is Charles Rowland and I am a verified bisexual"-type scene in season 2, and I think that's okay, and I don't really think that's the way for the show to 'confirm' it. Mind you I would love to see Charles talk about how it makes him feel to realize his feelings, and how his feelings for Edwin are different compared to how other people make him feel, because god, I love Charles so much and I just know such a scene would both destroy and heal me. FEEL YOUR FEELINGS, CHARLES <3

I think it says something really important that many, many, many people took one look at Charles Rowland and said: "Oh, he's bi." Not like... he has bi energy, or could plausibly be bi, or whatever; for so many people he just resonated as being bi, in a very organic way. (I know there are people who do read Charles as being straight/having rejected Edwin in s1, and I respect that, but they probably will not like my ideas about Charles very much, then, tbh.)

For what it's worth, though, Jayden's acting choices playing Charles, and the way Jayden (and George) have addressed the 'straight best friend Charles' line of questioning during interviews, both make it seem to me that Jayden is intentionally playing Charles as bi and we are already supposed to understand this for what it is, based on Charles' actions—just as we understand similar things about other characters inner worlds we are shown. Whether Charles is consciously aware of it yet is more the up-for-debate part to me, personally. It's like he is dancing right on the edge of the revelation, or something, but his actions (and his EYES) are speaking for him pretty loudly already.

As for how he confirms it more obviously? Hmm. Well, I'll admit i think a kiss between them would be lovely, if only because I think it would quite possibly be the Most Kiss a kiss could be, with all of Charles' tenderness and adoration for Edwin poured into it. I also think it would be in-character, given Charles canonically misses kissing, and wants to do it with people he's interested in romantically (see Crystal).

Charles struggles with being able to admit romantic feelings out loud because he is scared of his own capacity to hurt Edwin; after all the only example of "romantic" love he has seen was his parents' marriage. Charles is a person who acts first, thinks later, but in this process of understanding what he feels for Edwin he's taking his time and being the opposite of impulsive. This shows how important his relationship to Edwin is to him and his commitment to Getting It Right. Even with that deliberateness, though, I think it would still be easier for him to express himself through a tangible action like a kiss than through words—at least at first.

It reminds me of this scene from the first draft of Maurice between Maurice and Alec. Alec is struggling to verbalize his feelings for Maurice, although he does know he feels them. He can say other things, but naming love for what it is is the challenge; and in the end they use a shared memory of a time Alec showed his love through actions (running through the rosebushes just to see Maurice's face) to communicate and mutually understand their love for each other. Similarly, Charles finds it difficult to admit a deep romantic love aloud, but his actions speak louder, in his determination to retrieve Edwin from hell ("There's no one else—no one else—I would go to hell for") and he can allude to the romantic implications of the act, by referencing the Orpheus & Eurydice myth. It similarly becomes, I may not be able to say the words, but you and I both know the lengths i would go to for you.

Maurice : "I love you, sir be damned." Alec: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel." Maurice: "I don't want to hear that." Alec: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?" M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled."

As far as the catalyst for Charles revealing his feelings... a tragic goodbye—gosh, as heartbreakingly compelling as I know seeing George and Jayden act that out would be (I know they would crush it), I really hope the writers don't do that to them! The thing about Payneland that is so refreshing to me is how they manage to subvert trope expectations and break out of the tragic narratives they are placed in, and I think they would ultimately defy any attempt at separation. As Edwin says, "I will make sure that doesn't happen," about them ever being split up. I am rooting for a happily ever after for them, because they have both been through enough, and have fought tooth and nail to stay together.

Steve Yockey has mentioned potentially having Desire of the Endless cameo on the show and I also think having them and Charles interact would be a fascinating way to bring to light some of the deep-rooted stuff Charles struggles with around love (and would nicely parallel Edwin's experience with the Cat King which catalyzed his Charles-feelings realization). I also like the idea of the team maybe meeting a couple during a case who parallel Edwin and Charles and are romantically involved. Seeing that would allow Charles to externalize the way he feels for Edwin by seeing it reflected back to him by other people; sometimes things are easier to pick up on in others than in ourselves. I think that would be a fun way to get him to see what's been there under the surface for some time :)

Oh my god this got so long asfhlgkjhg SORRY

(I'm sure the Doccy Who fixation will come back in time for the Christmas special! :D)

[meanbossart]

do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.

BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.

Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao

And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"

And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.

(this got very long so, more under the cut)

Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.

In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.

Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.

And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.

That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.

That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.

I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

The scene where Xander stabs Teruko is like, hands down one of my favorite scenes in the entire series so far. Can I like, talk about that for a bit? It is genuinely such a god-tier setup for not only the themes of trust and deception in DRDT, but how it sets up one of my favorite things about the writing of DRDT as a whole. That is: how painfully aware DT-Dev is of how the standard Danganronpa tropes affect how us as audience members and fans (former or otherwise) of the canon series read and interact with fangans.

lets play spot the komaeda

()()()()() is like the byakuya/nagito/kokichi of the cast

I just hope ()()()()()() doesn't go crazy and kill in chapter 3. that would be way too predictable

()()()()() will obviously die in chapter 5

I think this scene in the LGI MV is the most upfront example of this (and though I won't get too into it because this post isn't about the David MV, I do think it's particularly interesting to note that this scene is in David's MV. Y'know, the liar character. The character that is known to put on a metaphorical mask to hide parts of himself.) And what I love so much about this is that DT-Dev uses these preconceived notions we've gained from our experience with the canon games, and uses that experience to enhance the themes of distrust and deception that are so prevalent in DRDT's story. Enter: Our lovely british boy.

this picture choice has nothing to do with the analysis by the way, I just think it's cute :) Xander is set up throughout the prologue and the first half of CH1 as Teruko's support character, presenting a very similar role to Sayaka Maizono from the first DR game, or Kaito Momota from NDRV3. Kind, upbeat, and supportive, so much so that David basically praises him for it

David: You're always full of energy and bravery to achieve your goals, no matter what they are. Yet at the same time, you're a compassionate person who takes the time to help others.

At the same time, he is by far the most mysterious character at this point of the story, due in part to his missing eye and the knowledge that it was uninjured before the events of the death game. This factor of early-game mystery also brings up some parallels between Xander and characters like Ultimate Impostor and Rantaro Amami. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think anyone was expecting Xander to survive. Given the similarities he shares with first victims of the first game I'm sure a lot of people suspected he would be the first victim of DRDT, and if not that, most likely die in Chapter 5 due to canon danganronpa's self-fulfilling prophecy of killing off the support characters in the fifth case (Chiaki, Kaito, and Kyoko if we're counting DR1's bad ending.) And this is the thing that really makes me go insane. The way DT-Dev subverts these tropes that we've grown accustomed to is by taking them and spinning them on their head. Usually giving us the same, or a similar ending to these tropes, but twisting the execution in ways that leave us surprised and second-guessing what we know. But DRDT doesn't do this immediately. In fact, the first ten episodes of the series follow a very similar formula to the danganronpa games, even having a very similar motive to the first chapter of DR1 in the form of loved ones being threatened. That is, until the end of CH1-5, in which you are hit with this.

Xander: Sorry for this.

This scene makes me go insane. Apart from being wonderfully animated, executed, and amazing for both Teruko and Xander's arcs, it is also the first clue to us as an audience that this is not an ordinary fangan, and that fully putting our trust in the knowledge we have from the canon danganronpa games is a mistake. Because that knowledge will be used to deceive us when we least expect it to. In simpler terms: All that glitters is not gold - not everything is as it seems.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations: The Foot Clan

Since I've posted on Cass, I figured it would be useful to post separately on the Foot Clan as a whole.

So the Foot Clan's obvious goal is the resurrect The Shredder.

They have paralleled origins to that of the Hamato Clan, the distinction of which caused by Karai splitting into her own clan.

One of the only mentioned laws of the Foot Clan is: you can only take control by succeeding where those have failed.

This leaves room to interpret that there could be a history of in-fighting or struggle for power within the Foot Clan.

Ranking:

To officially join the Foot Clan, a recruit must attempt an assigned solo mission, and return with success. The more missions a recruit/member go on, the more they are qualified to be raised to a higher ranking.

A foot marking on a face is implied to accompany a higher level of respect. Since Huginn and Muninn haven't raised their rank higher than the equivalent of a 2, we can assume that getting a foot print you must be a rank 3 or higher.

Members:

Foot Lt. offhandedly mentioned they get recruits online in "ninja chat rooms", so it seems they prioritize quantity over quality.

Then there are the origami warriors, who serve as canon fodder. We see the origami warriors as the earliest army of the Foot Clan, but this is ruined with the turtles' involvement. I wonder what determines the value between the origami warriors and the human members.

The Foot Clan is already kind of built on flimsy foundations. Foot Lt. and Foot Brute seem to be the only ones in the know of what's going on (being able to navigate through the Hidden City, use/locate mystic artifacts, and have some knowledge of the Hamato Clan), but even they don't really understand the Shredder's motivations. It makes me question how "human" or disconnected from their humanity they are, especially considering the flaming heads and purple skin.

There is some mentioned donors of the Foot Clan (such as Jocelyn's parents), but after the Shredder was detained in Seasons 2's opening, the members of the Foot Clan kind of jumped ship. This forced Cass to find purpose elsewhere, and Foot Lt. and Brute to retreat to the shadows. When the Shredder returns, it's just the three of them. This might have to do with where they recruit from.

In-fighting and changes between leadership through violence could also lead to muddled history and values. These people aren't bound together by one purpose, just broad destructive chaos.

Names and identities don't be appeared to be valued within the Foot Clan. For the majority of the show Cassandra is referred to as "Foot Recruit", and the only names we're offered with the two leaders are "Foot Lt. and "Foot Brute". This is could be read as a gag, but again Foot Clan history is completely open to interpretation.

Goals:

We've discussed their connection to Shredder's resurrection, but even beyond him what they're really aiming at it world domination and destruction. We see this reflected in Cass with her inherit fierceness, but also how she deals with the fallout of the Foot Clan by raising an army of brownie scouts to take over the world.

And then there's the inherit role of servitude that both Foot Lt. and Brute put themselves under. When Draxum dons the armor they "await" his orders (with the misunderstanding that the Shredder has risen), and when asked what they expect the Shredder to do they simply shrug and say "shred". They live to serve and destroy for a higher power beyond their understanding. A few lines that particularly stuck out to me in the movie was: "Tonight we liberate our masters from their dimensional prison. With this key we shall free them to lay waste to this world and enslave its people."

And finally I'd like to discuss their relationship with the Krang and the key.

Since the events of s2 the Foot Clan appears to have taken residence in an abandoned garden, whether it was the same in which the boys had broken into to smell the corpse flower remains unclear to My findings. Their numbers have grown again for an unknown reason, and they have been collecting parts of the dimensional gate and finally key.

I would also like to mention the inclusion of the boat and dock here. Especially since we were introduced to the Foot Clan through their paper thievery, and the boys had their first win against them on a similar boat that served as a paper hoard.

Moving back to the Krang, they have a similar fundamental misunderstanding of their place in relation to their masters, as they did with their master the shredder. It begs me to ask the question of when exactly and how did Lieutenant and Brute start giving attention to the Krang.

They were never mentioned before during the show, but in the movie Lieutenant does refer to them by name, "We shall follow the Krang as they lead the Foot Clan to glory!" So did this reach for a new master come from desperate research on the Shredder's origins, or was that the end goal when the Shredder was released? The oni that gave Shredder is shown to be a Krang before they were even confirmed, and the armor appears eerily similar to the armor that the three Krang don in the final sequence of the movie.

Then the source of empyrean (the source of mysticsm, yokai, mutants) is shown to come from a kraang corpse. There's so much of the Foot Clan tied to the Krang manipulating Oroku Saki, but a lot of their origins appear to be lost to history.

But again that leaves much to interpretation and wiggle room to poke at!!

[redfountainpostin]

Fell in love with your blog, went on a rampage to a friend about Riven/Darcy, came up with ideas, bon appetit! (Is that meme giving away my age?)

Riven who had his head so played with that he straight up doesn't trust his senses, anything he sees could be one of Darcy's illusions, someone calls his name and he ignores it cause he's gotten used to Darcy's voice inside his head pushing him to do x or y

He'll ignore his body's signals, hunger? Thirst? Pain? He can't tell if it's him or Darcy's tricks, so he ignores it just to be sure (meanwhile our boy is severely dehydrated and has 20 broken bones), the squad will have to remind him to eat, or drink or get to the infirmary

Darcy implants fake memories in his head, after, he can't tell his real past from the fake memories

Did he always liked X or Y? Or did Darcy influence him?

He loses some of his memories, there are things that no matter how hard he tries he can't recall

Shitty long term memory! If he's actively thinking about it, he doesn't forget, if he gets distracted, boom! It's gone. Post its all over his room and the kitchenette "you're allergic to strawberries", cause if he stops thinking about it he forgets, eats it and could go into anaphylactic shock. "Helia's mom's name is X" (I stole this one straight from Manacled, I'm not apologising).

The boys include this sort of thing in their conversation Hella will be talking about his mom and goes "my mother, X"

It's a PTSD free for all

Sometimes he'll go through his day convinced that he's in an illusion, that nothing he does it's really happening, and it isn't until he (accidentally) hurts someone that he realises "oh shit, it's been real the whole time"

Someone has to get him a night light for kids, cause now he's kinda terrified of the dark, I feel like Darcy could have him in total darkness for a while, he can't tell where he is, what time it is, what's going on. It makes him extra paranoid.

She could take away all his senses at the same time. After, he's extra sensitive and hyperaware, and will alternate between "Sky is breathing too loud" and ignoring the literal Armageddon outside his window cause "it's just another illusion" or because he can't feel it happening, some of his senses will stop working randomly. (Hello S3 blind Aisha parallels!)

Riven is not really a favourite, but his relationship with Darcy has so much potential! Feel free to use this or discard them all 🩷

Oh my god thank you so much for sending this, I love ALL OF THIS (also, I think Manacled is showing your age more than Bon Appetit, but potato potato XD, god bless us) I've been playing around with Riven having memory issues myself!!! I actually hc he already has those issues from his childhood, there was no head injury that caused it, it was just that he went through something so traumatic his brain just locked down an entire year of memories. Like, from age 10 to 11, it's blank, nada, empty, prazno, kaput. So when Darcy fucks with his head, it makes it even worse!!! What if he gets a (bad) habit of carrying a recorder in his pocket at all times?? In the evening he listens through it on sped up version to make sure everything was real. When someone finds out they're furious and he has to stop, bc it IS violating towards others, but it causes him so much stress. I also actually HCed him to feel much SAFER in the dark, because growing up, dark meant a lot more places to hide; Darcy taking that away from him, basically ruining a safe space, especially if he is a night owl, is just *chef's kiss*. And yea, my boy doesn't eat properly!! He will either forget, or refuse, or have a very specific think he'll eat and nothing else. I actually hc him to not eat bread, mostly bc I don't eat bread, so he bastardizes all sandwiches and just eats the filling and none of the bread, leaving his squadmates mildly disturbed XD Helia's mom definitely had to introduce himself like 3 times before he actually remembered her, but she doesn't hold it against him (I hc that Helia has really nice parents and bc I hc that Saladin got him into RF, and Saladin is Helia's fam, the whole fam kinda wants the best for him, except for Helia when he reaches for a sandwich in the fridge only to bite in and see that someone took out all the fillings) Also, to quote Harley Quinn: everyone else can see this trippy magic stuff yea? He literally has to ask at the end of each season during the obligatory final battle lololololol I really like the idea of the guy just being perma damaged and that's how it is and he has to live with it and his friends will be there for him AND HE HAS TO SEE THE PERSON WHO DID THAT TO HIM EVERY YEARS BC TRIX REFUSE TO FUCK OFF-

[puzzled-pegasus]

Christina Posabule thoughts (tiny little female christ is eating my brain today/pos)

This is mostly me working out some parallels between her and Orel's families but there's some cute hcs for her and Orel in here too :3

Her mom Poppit is influential to her as a parallel to the way that Clay affects Orel. Poppit is selfish, drunk, bitter, and very two-faced parent just like Clay is, who just like him, confidently gives awful advice and takes advantage of Christina's trusting nature.

Art is less involved with Christina and loses interest in conversation with her as soon as anything remotely associated with femininity comes up and he's just like ew gross go talk to your mom. the most positive attention he gives her is about her appearance and how cute or pretty she looks. He likes to constantly condescendingly tell her that any given thing she's interested or asking advice about in the moment is for boys or "a little girl like you doesn't need to worry about that :)" and it drives Christina nuts so she goes and talks to her mom anyway

Similarly to Clay and Orel, Poppit decided to take Christina on a picnic in the woods and they get lost, and Christina gets permanently injured due to her mother's carelessness, though I haven't yet figured out how. (Man, I just realized that if that happened after the events of Nature and Orel found out, he would probably be out for Poppit's BLOOD on behalf of his puppy crush sweetheart)

Idk whose post I read but I'll add the credit in later, but I read earlier the idea that as a parallel to Orel's masochism episode Christina has an arc where she turns sadist and I thought that was fuckin hilarious so yeah I need that to be a thing. I wonder what would set that off though. Maybe instead of taking to heart the idea that suffering is good for her, she might be like "wait friends I don't want you to go to hell for being happy" and beats them up...or smth i dont know. And also as parallel to Orel's dreams of God in that episode she could be like. Beating the shiz out of Satan. Lol. anyway,

I have this feeling that she and Orel have like the sappiest pet names for each other but like you cant even be mad about it cause they're so sincere lol. like they meet up for a date and Orel's casually like "there's my bright little daisy" and Christina is like "oh hello my sweet pudding pie" and then they hold hands and walk to the park or whatever tf

This is a smaller hc but if you remember that moment before the Puppingtons found out the Posabules were Catholic when Clay noticed Orel making 😍 eyes at Christina and he asked Orel if he thinks she was cute,,, I think it would be nice if Poppit and Christina were doing the same thing at that moment like Poppit was like "oh he's a doll isn't he?" And Christina's like "yes, ma'am, and so polite too!" and Poppit says something cheeky about how Christina better not start bringing boys around Art because he'll shoot them or whatever (you know like how dads threaten their daughters' boyfriends for no reason because of weird possession issues) and then they giggle together

Since Orel's been shot Christina worries over him a lot and especially in the first few months of their relationship she kept asking him how much it hurt and and even into adulthood she checks with him every day to make sure he's not exerting himself too much

Christina had a cat briefly and her parents killed it because they thought it was bad luck or smth

instead of "meet me in my study" Poppit's the more involved parent when it comes to discipline so she's just like "go see your father" cus he's the one with the belt

[mirixmoya]

hello friends welcome to GRADING TORTURED POET SOCIETY SONGS BASED ON HOW EASILY I COULD TURN THEM INTO A HAYFFIE FIC (PART ONE) i hope u enjoy.

(for those interested but also my own future reference when i eventual do turn them into hayffie fics hehe)

i. fortnight: 5/10. potential post-war effie reflecting on their pre-canon and during-canon situationship. the "i love you / it's ruining my life" vibe is very Them but i'd have to write my way around all the wife lines.

ii. the tortured poets department: 8/10. good early-to-mid-situationship hayffie. good moments for haymitch trauma angst stuff. "who's gonna hold you like me?" is them. the wedding ring line could be just them messing around while drunk one night during games season; it's when effie realizes it's Real.

iii. my boy only breaks his favourite toys: 9/10. excellent endish situationship hayffie vibes, 74th + 75th era. has good lines for effie as doll / toy / trinket (ha) imagery. also good imagery for effie and haymitch both being pieces in The Games. also "he runs because he loves me" and "he was my best friend" and "there was danger in the heat of my touch" ... need i go on?

iv. down bad: 7/10. good for their relationship between the end of the war and when effie actually moves to twelve. "how dare you think it's romantic / leaving me safe and stranded" literally them. also lots of good stuff for effie's post-war isolation in the capitol.

v. so long, london: 3/10. has the potential for a (book-verse) post-war angst fic where effie and haymitch try their absolute hardest but ultimately have too much trauma + damage to make it work. idk if i wanna do that tho.

vi. but daddy i love him: 9/10. excellent song for pre-canon hayffie all around. effie's relationship to her womanhood / escorting in the capitol? check. effie's inner conflict over her feelings for haymitch vs. her capitolborn beliefs? check. "dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid" but oh no haymitch ruined them! we cheered! joking that she's having haymitch's baby to her parents just to piss them off... very effie behaviour. excellent song for that Haymitch Is Unlike The Capitol Dandies Effie's Been Raised To Love theme that i like. "i know he's crazy but he's the one".

vii. fresh out the slammer: 7/10. good song for smack in the middle of their situationship. winter vs. summer parallels. effie's seasons without haymitch vs. games season. restriction with her capitol bfs vs. freedom with haymitch. "all those nights he kept me going". the end is good for a post-war hayffie happiness moment.

viii. florida!!!: 8/10. really good song for a Effie's Relationship With The Capitol fic. the isolation, the beauty covering ugliness, etc. "this city reeks of driving myself crazy". "at least the dolls are beautiful" that's literally about the escorts. "you home's really only the town you'll get arrested in" okayyy book-verse effie angst.

ix. guilty as sin?: 10/10. HORNY HAYFFIE ANTHEM. i need to get back in my writing proper smut era i fear. so so much material for haymitch worshiping at the altar of effie's hips and thighs. a song for people who believe that like a good 65% of their relationship is based on the fact that they're both incredibly hot and they both love having incredible sex. true love tbh.

x. who's afraid of little old me?: 9/10. excellent fic for the Effie's Relationship With Her Escort Career stuff that i love. "so tell me everything is not about me / but what if it is?" self centered queen! the general backstage horrors of escorting. "i was tame, i was gentle, till the circus life made me mean" ... "you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" ... "i am what i am cause you trained me" .... yeah.

xi. i can fix him (no really i can): 4/10. potential for a very very early situationship hayffie. general haymitch being a traumatized mess and effie trying her very hardest to help vibes.

xii. loml: 6/10. the first half is excellent for post-war hayffie coming back together. "who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames" yeahhh. but the second half ... the "you're the loss of my life" vibe ... could fit into the (book-verse) No Matter How Hard They Try They're Too Traumatized To Make It Work narrative but idk.

xiii. i can do it with a broken heart: 10/10. THE PERFECT SONG for 75th era effie being the perfect escort despite the fact that the world is falling away beneath her feet. "I cry a lot but I am so productive! It's an art!" is sooooo her. "i'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like a plague" is haymitch avoiding her in an attempt to save her from Rebel Stuff but effie knows their relationship is only becoming more serious. she's miserable! she's hitting her marks! eyes bright! chins up! smiles on! everyone she loves might die! it's fine!

xiv. the smallest man who ever lived: 1/10. not a hayffie song at all. BUT potential effie + seneca relationship study fic?? mayhaps???

xv. alchemy: 7/10. good song for book-verse post-war post-torture effie going to haymitch in twelve. she's ditching the capitol, she's going back to her man! who are they to fight the alchemy? how could they ever deny it? his heart is reserved for her. the soulmastism! (not that they would ever admit that lmao)

xvi. clara bow: 10/10. ANOTHER PERFECT EFFIE CHARACTER STUDY SONG! the rose imagery? snow's impact on her life. "this town is fake, but you're the real thing". effie's relationship with the capitol / escorting / womanhood / fame / youth / patriarchy / etc. "flesh and blood amongst war machines" literally the escorts amongst The Games. "hell on earth is to be heavenly" + "promise to be dazzling". sexualization has liberated effie (given her a career, money, freedom) but at what cost? it's also her gilded cage.

anyway. thank u for coming to my extensive ted talk.

[accio-victuuri]

February CPNs

hello! it’s that time of the month again that i compile the sweets brought to us by the boys! this month started out very quiet but in this fandom will mean that things will take a turn in the next week/s. you just never know what will happen next. i have added some commentary here on certain incidents that i didn’t talk about separately on my blog to have “bonus content” for this round-up.

• XZ’s GQ cover and collaboration sweets + additional ones connected to fake rumor

• not really cpn, but our boys continue to make it in the weibo hot search trend report - i still hate sina weibo but i understand how it’s relevant for them.

• XZ’s wedding suit from the AV festival. yes, this was made for him but we just had him wear that white backless wedding suit by jacquemus for GQ and now this? hmmmm. me thinks he has a preference? lol. he prefers white and that’s fine, but the choice of what looks like a wedding suit is 👀. i am on standby, let me see if this continues.

pair it off with WYB! and it’s perfect. tho i would prefer it if they are both in white. 🤍

• xzs has the same caption as a cpf

• yibo’s watch and gg’s GQ props connection the number 91 and 3.

• chinese new year candies - gg’s weibo post, wyb’s red envelope cover clues etc

• rufeng shares new thailand fm rehearsal footage

• tencent video posting their new year vcr so close together! they could have easily posted it one after the other but maybe they didn’t want some solo fan drama. i’m happy that bobo continues to collab with 10c, and ZZ is not exclusive to 10c anymore— so hopefully this means in the future they can work on a project together <3

• clowning over XZ’s song in spring festival gala as you wish + same composer as wyb’s singles and how wyb was listening to a song from this artist lately.

• this parallel between their looks. it’s not just their characters that match each other, but their outfits from certain events. so classy!

but i think this one is the best. seeing them get recognition for their acting in the past few months has been very rewarding. all the hard work and challenges are bearing fruit. remembering them talking about wanting to become professional actors and really take that path — studying and dreaming together. now here we are 🫶🏼

• a cute tidbit, but the cat xz is playing with is called xiao wang. that’s because on it’s back looks like the character for wang! what a coincidence!!!! 🥹

• Bottled Joy stirring the CPN pot again by posting this on 2/13. As You Wish. The context of the post is that, as you wish — fans can get these wallpapers and photos of Bobo. but it’s a coincidence cause it’s the english title of the song GG sang @ BRTV Spring Festival Gala. 👀 the colors too, white and silver which is the same color combination of GG’s outfit. This may be meh to some, but knowing Bottled Joy’s cpn history, you can’t blame us.

• Golden Hour and Eason Chan songs @ yibo’s playlist

• Small weekend roundup - includes mention of asian pop magazines where the boys are both mentioned, supplement to xz using tickets for his spring festival photos last year as support of bobo’s movie and the phone card case appears.

• Rumor of Wang Yibo being in Hengdian - one / two / three ( i feel like this one is up there with the leica camera and gg’s bday cpn but this one is more risky on their part. as i have said in my posts, what is important is they are safe and happy. it’s their personal life. their relationship is between the two of them. as cpfs, we should be protecting them and not be people they are wary of. if we are not careful, we are no different from ss and yxh. )

• On 2/20, Yuehua & YBO have posted about the slander recently going around related to WYB and that they have reported it to the police. This went really high on HS and was widely talked about, even Du Hua reposted and reacted to it. Hours later, XZS has posted their own reminder to fans in relation to people disturbing his drama filming. What made it more important is that XZ reposted it too and put in a very firm reminder to everyone.

to give some context, the horrible rumor regarding WYB was spread around by mostly XZ fans. There was a melon that said “X” has STD and then toxic people started saying it’s WYB ( cause toxic xz fans doesn’t want it linked to XZ because of the clue given so they throw it to WYB. i know it sounds stupid, but it’s actually a common tactic done by both sides ) and even fabricated some photos. another actor, xukai was also implicated and he also reported to the police.

so this can be read by so/os as XZ&XZS trying to cover up for the toxic solos and what they did. i get why other people will think that and i personally wanted them to address the bad things his solos do. however i also understand why xz and his team can’t “betray” the solo fans. that’s just how it goes. however, in cpf interpretation, this is XZ’s way of taking away the heat from wyb and a way of putting a stop to the conversations about that horrible lie. it worked in a way that it went on HS, but not as high as WYB’s. I was also surprised that XZ reposted it himself. i am aware that the leaks and everything else is a serious issue and XZ is someone who hates being a bother to the crew. but he usually doesn’t do this. he usually leaves it to XZS or the drama account. This tells me that he personally wants to lend his name and his weibo account, to get more of the heat. The last line he said can also be a message to his toxic so/os: respect others and respect yourself.

• On 2/20, there were tarot readings some BXGs have enjoyed. One is this that is a new year CP reading done on 2/4. What made fans 👀 are:

1. this card, where OP said it’s them being hand in hand and don’t get tired of each other. and in the background is a sacred building, which symbolizes them having a vow to each other.

more cpn was added into it when GG did MFW and people realized not to take this literally cause it could be representing the Duomo.

2. Here is the part that was v interesting to cpfs cause this person gave a prediction that followed what we cpn and happened in the next couple of days.

The two of them haven’t had many official activities recently. So from February 4th, there is a chance for the two of them to meet each other in the past few days. And as soon as the two of them meet, they won’t be going out. Yibo knows he is active but he will close up and be willing to hide at home for XZ.

this is so close to what we speculated! that they spent a quiet cny break together. 🥹🥹🥹

3. Next one is so on point it’s scary cause i have already discussed the bad rumor going around and was directed at WYB before this entry. OP was sort of right. tho i don’t know it this will be another hateful rumor, i hope not.

My prediction is that it will be in March 2024, around this time, I feel that WYB will have a a force of public opinion surrounding him. It's unfriendly to him. This power of public opinion including but not limited to WYB. If we use the 8 of Swords to understand the external environment, it is a relatively sharp. There is some public opinion about the two of them that may cause some trouble

If something happens to WYB, XZ will immediately rise up and have to rush out to protect him. XZ will work hard behind the scenes silently in his own way and are some practical actions.

I don’t think i need to further explain. It fits what happened in 2/20. 👁️👄👁️

4. WYB’s resources for 2024 will be very good. In the first quarter, the number of resources was not very large but the quality of the resources is very good. Then the Queen of Pentacles in the third quarter. In the fourth quarter, the Queen of Cups.

For context: The Queen of Pentacles, therefore, depicts a certain level of success and prosperity. But the rabbit at the bottom cautions us that we should be careful of where we leap when we are chasing that success. Queen of Cups - Generally speaking, this is a positive card for both career and finances, suggesting you're "in tune with yourself, have a good work-life balance going on, and overall a positive job experience.

The reading is close to 1 hour long and I just can’t translate it all so i’m going off what CPFs are highlighting.

• XZ’s pre Milan flight Gucci & camcorder cpn

• Fake Rumors : getting caught kissing / spending time during CNY

• XZS first post in Milan is the invitation given to XZ by Tod’s for the show. Those who had the same time as Milan saw the actual time stamp which is 1823. A beloved kadian number!!!!!

• xz’s collar and whole look for GUCCI MFW gave us so many thoughts. lol. i know sexualization of the boys is a complicated issue in the fandom but when things like this happen — how can we stop? lol. no. but seriously. it is what it is.

• checking their fingernails + similar pose to HB

• a comment that implies xz went to zhuhai with wyb to ride a motorcycle

• their photos match so well. 🌅

from zz’s post in milan. it’s filled with the elements they love like the moon and a beautiful sunset background. gg was also showing off his re web shoes which is of course, because he is a gucci ambassador and all that but the “web” cpn is getting stronger. however, i am personally losing my mind over the implications in the caption he used.

• clues in zz’s mfw interviews, matching talismans on their phone cases and similar ads for shu uemura & loreal

• 8 fake rumors from CQL shoot/era that i posted about 📝

• A place CPFs landmark lol

• spotted same mannerism! twins ☺️☺️☺️☺️

see you all next month for another round up of sweetness! just continue to support the boys and ignore the toxic moves of irrelevant people. fandom is supposed to be fun and a safe space so i hope we all fight to keep that love & peace here 🫶🏼

[castleofclouds]

Truth to be told, I missed you (spin-off).

Castleofclouds presented original series, spin-off from To All The Boys I've Dated Before (NCT Dream Alternative Universe Fiction).

Genre ; angst, romance, humor, fluff, slow-burn, hint of smut, high school, college, frenemies.

Disclaimer ; everything are fictional, mention of kms jokes, suggestive 18+ content (?), typos or grammar, non-idol.

Tag ;

Story are by © castleofclouds, do not copy or repost without watermark!

A spin-off from the TBDE (To All The Boys I've Dated Before) series, a truth untold, a point of view that you never seen from the main story, all are crafted and wrapped into a short stories like a fairytale full of sadness and confusion.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　

MARK LEE.

Fragments Of Firsts.

“There's always a first of everything, first day of the school, first time watching movies, first look of the day, in each timeline there's a begining that starting, just like how it is my first life too, and I ought to make mistakes that I'm going to regret in the future, and that is Us.”

- Mark Lee.

1. Pieces of Once Upon a Time

2. Moments That Made Us

3. The Start of Something Beautiful

4. In the Shadow of Memory

5. Through Love’s First Glance

RENJUN HUANG.

Parallel Hearts

“The way human hearts works is intriguing, how I always pick yellow in any colors because I like it, how my hearts often give me option to pick, and one of the many choices were to fall in love, and I choose to do it with you. ”

- Renjun Huang

1. Tangled in Time

2. In the Orbit of You

3. Two Paths, One Feeling

4. Bound Yet Uncrossed

5. Together, Side by Side

JENO LEE

Seasons Of Us.

“There's so many seasons throughout the years, there's winter to make snowman, there's spring to watch the flowers bloom, there's autumn with its s'mores, and there's summer, the time where I landed my eyes on you and never leaves.”

- Jeno Lee

1. Fading in Autumn

2. A Journey in Bloom and Wilt

3. Love’s Passing Phases

4. Spring’s First Glance, Fall’s Final Goodbye

5. Bloomed, Burned, and Begun Again

HAECHAN LEE

Whisper Of What Was.

“Some people wish they could go back in time just to rewind all the good memories, some people wish they can rewind just to fixes flaw they made, unfortunately one of the many are thinking ending the relationship is the solution.”

- Haechan Lee

1. Traces in the Silence

2. Soft Ghosts of Us

3. When Love Was Young

4. Embers in the Dark

5. Beneath Falling Stars

JAEMIN NA

The Ones Before Us.

“Sometimes things doesn't ended the way we wanted, some comes and go, they left an impression that quite hard to forget, something had to ended for the new ones come.”

- Jaemin Na

1. Stories Left Unfinished

2. Lost and Found

3. Affection First Drafts

4. The Roads Not Taken

5. Lessons in Heartbreak

CHENLE ZHONG

A Heartbeat Away

“You never realized what's in front of you until you take your time to see, clearly. Who is the one occupying your heart, the beating arent just there for no reason, isn't it?”

- Chenle Zhong

1. Close Enough to Feel

2. Almost Familiar, Yet Unknown

3. Touching Without Touching

4. Near Enough to Dream

5. Between Now and Forever

JISUNG PARK

The Things I Hate To Love

“Both hate and love always seemingly like two complete opposite, but if you take a closer look both of them had same meaning, a strong expression for something, there's always a thin line that differentiates them from each other.”

- Jisung Park

1. Melancholy Paradox

2. Caught in Between

3. Complicated Embrace

4. The Ties that Bind and Break

5. Embracing the Frustration

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　

TBDE series, Masterlist.

A/N

Are you all ready? For this November? Goshh. I couldn't be more ready, I was trying to continue the TBDE but I just need to give you all this present, Ik it's not Christmas yet, but let's just think of it as early present from me? Haha, for this time I wish it at least get 40 (ik I asked a lot) notes first before I post the first chapter and dw I don't forget about the main story, I'll make sure to continue the TBDE too at least for a while, and comment which route do you want to see first?? Btw just to make sure in this spin-off it's going to follow dreamies POV okay? Yn thought might not be voiced enough but I'll try to put some in.