#instead of the reality which is that it's far more complex than that

[queer-reader-07]

some of y'all are out here making it incredibly clear that you still view gender as a binary despite allegedly having done the work to dismantle your cisnormative views of gender

your first mistake is treating transmasc / transfem like inherent opposites. your second mistake is treating man / woman in general like opposites but you all are not ready for that convo.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Ngl the ask where Stan's s/o got sucked into the portal instead made me cry a bit-

Can we have a part2 where reader comes back? Oh god imagine the emotional tension in the room as they walked in.

- 🦑

Taglist: @amms8f @doggosnoodles12 @c4ss13-bun @lucas1253 @danart501 @cherryblom @marvelous-maniac @repost-account-yall @atseoks @xprntj

Part 1 is right here

Thirty years.

Thirty long years had Stanley been forced to live with the guilt and fear that after everything he and Ford did to put in place for your welcome home would be all for naught if the portal didn’t open, or worse you don’t come through the portal in time. After all there wasn’t a day that went by where Stanley wasn’t reminded of just how helpless and useless he was when you got sucked into the portal, begging for him to help you but couldn’t.

Thirty years had Stanley allowed to let Ford teach him complex maths and physics, even going so far as to teach himself during the nights where he couldn’t sleep without seeing your fearful face, nor the outstretched hand before the portal closed seemingly forever. Which made it a lot harder for him to run the mystery shack during the day as he would be found by Ford, fast asleep at the base of the portal with nothing but a flimsy blanket and a pillow he brought down from your shared his room, holding a framed picture of a younger version of you both mere months before the fiasco that costed Stanley his everything.

During the past three decades did Stanley realised that he’d be more then willing to throw away a large chunk of his life just to have you back. You were his life and without you he couldn’t bare to think about how you’d view him if you could see him now, conning tourists out of their money and just not being a morally perfect person in general, but he knew he couldn’t give up now when he and Ford had come so far already to prepare for the inevitable day that you came home.

‘We’re close Stanley I can feel it.’ Ford had been saying to him for the past week, hoping to uplift his spirit, but one look towards Stanley and Ford could see the plethora of emotions within his eyes that ranged from anxiousness, to sadness, to uncertainty as he looked at a Polaroid picture he kept of you in the breast pocket of his blazer; keeping you close to his heart like he had since the moment you took a chance on him.

‘They’re coming home.’ Ford assures his twin, feeling helpless in helping ease the heartbreak that was obviously still being felt to this day. ‘They’re coming home. You’re going to bring them home Stanley.’ He reaffirms.

‘What if they don’t love me anymore?’ Stanley asked the question that had been lingering on his mind for a long, long time, haunting him constantly that now with the day drawing closer; he couldn’t help but let it out while he had the opportunity to.

Ford sighed as he sat next to Stanley as they looked at the portal. ‘From what I could see from our brief meeting, they love you more than words can describe and would’ve done anything to keep you safe.’ He tells him as while your interactions were brief and not on the greatest of terms, Ford could tell that you were more then willing to risk everything to keep his brother safe and he appreciated you for looking out for his brother and loving him where his family failed to do so on multiple instances.

‘They’re shouldn’t have,’ Stanley said sadly, ‘if they didn’t love me as hard as they did, they’d still be here.’

‘And yet they love you as easily as breathing,’ Ford counters as he rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, ‘and I highly doubt that there is a reality where they didn’t love you as hard as they do.’ Before the twins could continue their conversation, they could hear Dipper and Mabel call for them and they were in silent agreement to continue it on a later date before going to see what the kids wanted them for.

Once the twins left the lab, the portal seemed to slowly spark to life, deciding to bring about your return quicker than Stan and Ford had originally thought. Almost as though whether you were within the multiverse, you were always listening to your Stanley and reacting to his pain as though it was your own.

Dipper and Mabel were more than aware of you due to the stories Stanley told them, he wanted them to know you the way he did in hopes of keeping you alive in some other way other than framed photos and memories that he always revisited in his dreams. They knew you meant a lot to their Grunkle from the way he’d get a distant look in his eyes whenever he sees something that reminded him of you.

Stan’s stories of only stoked the curiosity of Dipper and Mabel as they’d always ask; ‘where are they now?’ Only for Stan to reply with, ‘not here, not anywhere within reach.’

‘Are they dead?’ Dipper asks and could see Stan’s eyes become sharp as steel, his jaw clenched as he inhaled sharply as though he had been doused in cold water.

‘No.’ He said firmly without meaning to. ‘They’re just not here.’

Dipper wanted to press on but stopped when Ford, who had gone back down to the lab, came running into the living room with a wild expression on his face. ‘Stanley! It’s time!’ He cries and without question Stanley got up to his feet and followed after Ford, while Dipper and Mabel naturally followed after him with Soos tailing behind them; wanting to be included in whatever wireless they’d get into without trying.

The moment the family reached the lab, the portal was in full effect, which confused Ford as he swore he didn’t flip any switches to activate the portal and neither did Stanley. It was almost as if the portal had developed sentience but that was impossible to prove as truth as the moment Ford and Stanley realised that Dipper, Mabel and Soos had followed them took presidency over the blaring blue portal that only seemed to get brighter with every passing second.

‘Kids! Go back upstairs now!’ Stanley shouted, something he rarely did unless he thought the kids would be put in genuine danger.

‘No! You and Grunkle Ford have been hiding something from us, only for it to be a portal?’ Dipper exclaims as he looked at both Stan and Ford with confusion akin to the look in yours eyes before you disappeared into the portal against your will. Dipper, being the smart kid he was had a feeling this portal was linked to you in some way, for what would be the reason both of his Grunkles would keep this from him and Mabel unless it had played a major part in your disappearance.

Or the more likely answer being that the portal was the reason for your disappearance.

‘Well explain everything to you soon enough, me and Stanley have very valid reasons.’ Ford says as he eyed the portal as it was practically encasing the entire lab in a blinding light, however when squinting his eyes, Ford could make out a cloaked figure walking towards them with slow, hesitant steps before they picked up their pace as the figure was now breaking out into a sprint, as though coming to a realisation that this was their ticket out of the multiverse.

You were coming home, Ford knew you would as he couldn’t help but smile tearfully, the questions he has for you are endless but he’d much rather you and Stanley have the reunion that has been thirty years in the making.

‘You either tell us or we’re going to shut down the portal!’ Dipper bluffed as he knew the moment he took a single step towards the lever at the end of the lab, he’d be cut off by both his grunkles when he saw how they kept looking towards the mystery figure who was now half of of the portal.

‘We will just please trust us-‘ Stan tried pleading but it fell on deaf ears.

‘Who are they?’ Mabel asked, confused and scared.

‘They’re your great aunt/ uncle y/n!’ Stanley shouted just as you fully stepped out of the portal before it closed behind you for one final time, plunging the room in almost darkness had it not been from the ember coloured gem that hung from your neck. You removed the hood from your head to reveal your aged face and slight hints of silver that streaked your hair permanently.

You looked hardened but soft at the same time, you greeted Mabel, dipper, Ford, Soos with a look that could’ve made them into stone, but the moment you looked at Stanley your eyes widened as a gasp left your lips.

‘Stanley? Honey is that you?’ You asked as you began walking towards him, arms outstretched as though you were worried this was all an illusion from those little fucks from dimension 4.

‘It’s me alright sweetheart, I’m right here, you’re home now and safe.’ Stanley reassured as he greeted you halfway, encasing you in his tight embrace as tears streaked down his face silently as he peppered your face in kisses.

‘Oh Stan! I missed you so much, I thought you would’ve moved on or-‘ you rambled, only to stop when Stan pulled away to look you in the eyes with a serious expression.

‘You’re my one and only doll face, no one else can come close to you sweet pea as all I’ve ever done for the past three decades was try and get you back here, in my arms like your meant to be.’ Stan said as he rested his forehead against your own. ‘I’ve missed you so much, so fucking much that I thought I was going mad without you by my side. I need you and will always need you in my life now and forever.’ He confessed and Mabel gasped at how romantic her Grunkle could be, though then again wasn’t a big surprise considering how highly he talked about you and everything you did that made him fall harder for you.

‘I don’t want to be anywhere but here, with you Stanley Pines.’ You replied as you kissed his lips, weaving your lips against his as you clung on to him in a desperate attempt to familiarise yourself with the man you spent thirty years without. Kissing him felt right, it felt as though your soul was now whole as you melted further into his kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth and softly groan against him before needing to pull away for air as you both looked at each other star struck.

You felt young again with Stanley holding you in his arms as you admired his aged face and silver hair, still finding him attractive as ever. ‘Lost the mullet did you?’ You asked teasingly as Stan could only pinch your side, causing you to jolt at the contact.

‘I thought you liked my mullet?’ He pouted and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you traced your finger across his bottom lip.

‘I did but I think I like this even more.’ You said lowly as you pecked his lip. ‘You look handsome as I remembered and more my beautiful Stanley Pines.’ You cooed, kissing his jawline and feeling the delicious prickle of his stubble/ beard against your lips.

‘So this is our great aunt/ uncle?’ Dipper asked as he watched as you and Stan greeted each other warmly and happily in love. He saw pictures of you but seeing you in the flesh was different entirely as he looked over at Ford who was still smiling at the reunion.

‘Yes dipper, they are your great aunt/ uncle, they were lost to the portal thirty years ago and it hurt Stanley beyond repair. so much so that he dedicated the past three decades trying to get them back.’ Ford explained briefly, happy knowing that the family was whole as it should’ve been from the very beginning.

‘We’ve got so much to catch up on.’ You told Stanley before casting your gaze towards Soos, Mabel and Dipper. ‘And you can start by introducing me to these three colourful characters.’ You add with a smile as you saw Mabel and dipper looking at you in shock and awe.

‘Those little troublesome kids are your Great niece and nephew, dipper and Mabel and that other guy is Soos, my employee.’ Stan began as he interlocked his hand in yours as you chuckled. ‘Twins, runs in the family huh?’ You said with amusement, ready to get to know your family properly this time either no portal to separate you from them ever again.

‘Like you wouldn’t believe toots.’ Stanley then kissed the side of your head, smiling widely as he finally got what he had hoped for, a family, whole and happy.

[acesw]

Reverse: 1999 : Disabled Characters

The game doesn't stray too far on the neurodivergent allegory for the arcanists themselves. But at the same time, there are also inclusions of other characters who are very much known to be disabled. So for this post I'll delve into that, just a bit.

Now, there are 10 characters that I want to put in the spotlight. These mostly lean towards being canon, but a part of these are also researched upon and shortened so the post doesn’t become way too long.

Cristallo, Rabies, Erick : Chronic Illness

It's quite self explanatory that Cristallo herself has a chronic illness. She was born prematurely, with an added condition that makes her physically fragile. As seen in the game, she needs a life-support system to maintain her health when she's outside. It's also implied that her condition may be a recurrent cancer, as her arcane abilities are tied to a machine that provides cobalt therapy, a known advancement in radiotherapy in the post-WWII era.

Rabies is an odd case. In his stories, it's noted that Adam cured Alicia through unknown means at the cost of contracting rabies himself. However, instead of the virus being acute and guaranteed to be fatal, it becomes a chronic illness to Rabies due to the abundance and use of arcanum. And since the rabies virus attacks the brain, his cognitive capabilities and ability to recall things before the present had been impaired, making him rather docile and animal-like in nature as a result.

Erick, as revealed in her anecdote, has a hereditary blood condition that came with her arcane skill. With her arcane skill making her physically powerful, overusing it will accelerate the effects of her blood condition to the point that it can become fatal. To prevent this, she also inherited an armband from her grandfather, Harald. The armband suppresses one's ability to use arcane skills, but by extension it also prevents Erick's condition getting worse.

Shamane : Amputee

Shamane's circumstances are also self-explanatory. He lost his arm for unknown reasons, but after having lived without it for 20 years, it doesn't bother him anymore. However as we know, he crafted his prosthetic arm as a means to avoid scaring kids. (which I think is quite cool in itself)

Ms. Radio, Bessmert : Blindness

Ms. Radio and our new friend, Bessmert, are both canonically blind. Ms. Radio has stated that she cannot see, and asks Vertin to left in places where she can feel temperatures to make her feel at peace.

And as we know, Yenisei (or in other words, Yenisei's VA) has stated in the 1.6 livestream that Bessmert is known to be blind, but even with that, she's a great researcher and guide to her.

Mesmer Jr. : OCD [Content Warning: Mentions of Self Harm and Suicide.]

Mesmer Jr.'s character has heavily implied throughout the main story and her own to have OCD as a result of the traumatic experiences she had gone through from her field of work and her family’s history in it. She identifies that she has "incurable" anxiety, which causes her to think differently about arcanists and act a little irrationally from our own perspective. This anxiety results in double checking everything and having a slightly intensive routine.

This routine is created as a means to maintain herself and her own sanity, but an imbalance or interruption can greatly upset her. As a result, she has conflicting ideals, experiences hallucinations and panic attacks, has suicidal thoughts, and actively inflicts self harm as a means to cope with her anxiety. However, she’s calmer and at peace with herself when she's left alone in a quieter and clean space, away from others, and where nature is heard more than constant buzzing. In short, Mesmer Jr.’s mental health is really complex and would be better if it's explored in a separate post.

Baby Blue : Alice in Wonderland syndrome

It's no secret that Baby Blue has Alice in Wonderland syndrome, or in other words dysmetropsia. This affects her perception of reality and her ability to recall, but this in turn makes her arcane abilities all the more powerful. As a result, she doesn't realize that she's growing up, yet it seems she doesn't mind that much. This doesn't seem to affect her physically either; In fact, it has a heavy influence on how she displays her arcane skills.

Poltergeist : Social Anxiety

Poltergeist has been known to be anxious in social settings which conflicts with her people-pleasing tendencies. She's also insecure about herself which adds up to her not wanting to be directly perceived. At the same time, she doesn't like being left alone as a result of having been ignored and forgotten post mortem. Poltergeist is also elaborate (i.e. not wanting to be looked at for too long) yet awkward at the same time when communicating them.

However, I'm not sure how to describe Poltergeist's case quite well, but the idea of her having social anxiety resonates greatly in my mind, so it can be treated as a partial headcanon.

Balloon Party : Autism and Speech Impairment

Balloon Party as a child had contracted an illness that caused her to have a persistent high fever. In the end, she awakened her arcane skill this way, with her being able to cough up balloons that can be harmful or a cure to anything.

However, it might have also affected her speech because of the physical strain that comes from coughing, it results to BP's speech being a bit slow and having abnormal pauses before she speaks again. Though, this also might be a sign of her possibly also having autism, where rigid and uneven language development is a common pattern in how autism affects one's ability in communication. Her speech also has a pattern of echolalia, having a flat tone, and lack of control of it.

However, speech impediment isn't everything about autism, and there's a lot more about BP's character that also connects with it such as her special interests. I can better explore this in a different post, which will be explained below.

Last Notes

These are the characters I’ve written down, most of these are less headcanon and more of observations I’ve found when looking into these characters. Some people from the lore chat have also added their own insights on some of them. (Thank you lupjo for beta-reading through it and helping me out) 

Of course, there are a few more characters I want to discuss because of the implications of them having autism / ADHD, but these will be written in another post in the future because I still need to research and gather other information. Additionally, it would be an opportunity to talk about the connections between an arcanist’s and neurodivergent person’s relationships with modern society.

Congrats for reaching the bottom of this post, and feel free to add your own ideas or headcanons about the characters here and/or any other ones.

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who didn’t believe in long-distance relationships until he met you. how was it possible to maintain a loving relationship when kilometers separated you? how could you show love and devotion if you were separated by screens? it was impossible to love someone you had never been with. it was impossible to love someone without really knowing them. so how were people falling into this trap and deluding themselves with fake love? how co— wait. but you… you were different, weren’t you? you managed to attract Taehyung. you managed to make Taehyung question his entire sense of reality. but you weren’t there. you were in another world. but still… in a way, you. “tell me what spell you cast on me. i want to get rid of this curse and talk to you again without thinking about how much i need to be with you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who always has a virtual date planned for you every month. Taehyung was a romantic by nature and, with you two being worlds apart, he had to find another way to express all his love and devotion to you. thank god there are several museums with online visits; thank god there were chat rooms with different games for you; thank god we lived in a time where the internet was the answer to all our prayers. once a month, Taehyung would take you to see and experience the world without leaving the comfort of your home, always guaranteeing and promising that one day all those experiences of yours would be lived in person next to him. “today we see this museum through our screens, but there will be a day when i will be able to take a photo of you next to your favorite piece of art just so you can see which of you is truly a masterpiece.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who writes down all the dreams he has about you in a notebook. Taehyung’s mind was in constant motion when he slept, taking him on complex adventures and strange expeditions. and, in so many wild dreams, it was almost a certainty that you would pay Taehyung one or two visits; and it was these adventures that Taehyung remember the most, sharing some of the happiness he had felt in the dream in real life. but the dreams were so many and quite confusing that before telling you, Taehyung needed to write down each moment of the dream in a notebook, making sure that nothing was missed and that everything was perfectly clarified. “this dream is going to be a little confusing, so pay attention. you were at the top of one of egypt’s pyramids, but instead of sand there was only water. so, i showed up there in a little hot air balloon and…”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who becomes desperate with the distance between you. Taehyung swore he would start banging his head against the walls just to ease the pain he felt in his chest. why were you so far away? what cruelty did Taehyung do in a past life to be suffering immensely in this reality? would the gods be upset that Taehyung loved you more than they loved their immortality? were the stars jealous of all the memories you shared from past lives? would the universe itself be resentful because your and Taehyung’s love was purer than any of its creations? how could Taehyung live every day if you were so far away from him? he just wanted to hug you, kiss you, hold you in his arms, make you happy and make you feel loved and important. and he only wanted you. there. beside him. in this life. was this too much to ask for? “i swear to you that i’m this close to getting on a plane to go see you. i don’t care about my work and i don’t care about my friends. i just want you, i just need you. urgently.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who never says goodbye to you. it was a small habit of Taehyung’s, a small detail that always weighed on your mind: why did he never say goodbye to you when you finished talking? when you realized this little curiosity, you went to talk to Taehyung, a little interested in the possible answer he could give you. but, out of so many scenarios you created in your mind, none of them matched the reality of the facts. it was with a serious and expressionless look, completely offended by your question, that Taehyung answered you, giving a little clarity to your heart. “our story is not over yet. why should i say goodbye to it?”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who offers you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his perfume. when the distance was crueler and there was a need to feel close to each other, Taehyung would ask you to spray the stuffed bear he offered you with his perfume. in a way, that idea of Taehyung managed to deceive your poor heart; when you hugged that bear with Taehyung’s scent, your heart fell into the illusion that you were next to Taehyung and, for small seconds, everything was okay. “i know i’m far away, that’s why i offer you this bear. it may not be very big, but when you spray my perfume, it becomes part of me.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who bought you a weekend in your dream city to meet you for the first time. when Taehyung showed you your flight tickets for the same day and the same city, you didn’t understand his idea; it took Taehyung to say that he would wait for you for you to understand that small gesture from him. he had remembered that city you so wanted to visit. not only that, but he also remembered the dates of your vacation. and booked a short stay in that city on your vacations. a stay with Taehyung. you were going to be together for the first time in that city that called you so much. your dream was about to begin. “just a few more weeks, my love, and then we can be infinite.”

[spasmsofthought]

starlight (legolas x reader)

A bit (or a lot) philosophical. Indirect allusions to depression/melancholy. Please take care reading and take care of yourself.

IDK word count LOL but not super long, I think.

This idea has been in my drafts for a while, but inspiration came this evening. I hope it's executed well for you. I haven't felt so creative in such a long time and this piece was such a treat to write.

Enjoy and please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, and reblog xo

+++

“My friend, what ails you?” Legolas has not been sure of you, try as he might.

Even though it is just the beginning of the Fellowship’s journey, you walk already battle-weary. You are heavy, it seems, in comparison to your fellow human companions. Aragorn nor Boromir carry themselves this way. Even Frodo, despite the responsibility he carries, retains some of the Hobbit carefree way. It had caused Legolas to wonder, apprehensively in the beginning, if it was the Ring. The more he watched and waited, the more clear it became that it wasn’t. Relief then became mixed with confusion, for if it wasn’t the Ring, what could cause such weight for you to carry? The brief conversations he has shared with you so far have not provided him further insight.

You turn towards him from where you sit. Your face is not unhealthy in anyway, but your eyes are not bright. There is something deep in them for which Legolas does not have the words to explain. You are close enough to be seen from camp, but far enough away that no one has had the heart to disturb you. It is a quiet evening, but even as he approaches, there is something that mixes in with the stillness that is foreign to him.

“Hello, Legolas,” He stands for a moment, unsure. “Please, you are welcome to join.”

You pat the stone next to you as if it is an inviting cushion. It is not.

“Thank you for your inquiry. I am only sad, Legolas.” Your hands settle in your lap. Legolas grows even more confused. Often human weep to express their grief, in his understanding. He has not seen, or heard, you cry once.

You clarify after a moment, sighing and then glancing at him. “There is no cause for it, unfortunately. Otherwise I would ask aid of our Fellowship. It is simply a—” You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. It takes your brain a short time to unscramble to find something suitable, “condition I endure.”

“The understanding of the complexity of human nature escapes me at this time.”

You laugh is small, “It confounds me often.”

There is a moment, halfway between awkward and friendly, in which you sit together. Trying to explain your feelings to an Elf has not been something anyone ever thought to prepare you for.

Legolas has been an intimidating individual to try and engage for yourself. It has been your own inexperience and reluctance that has caused some of your avoidance of him. Elves had been figures of myths and folklore in the small village where you had been raised. To confront your youth’s inadequate tales against a far different reality has already been mentally exhausting. You always thought Elves would be the kind of stern and serious beings that immortality seemed to produce. Instead, Legolas was often cheery, reveling in merriment.

“There is a type of sadness for humans,” You try to explain. Legolas pays attention, “that can come for us regardless of circumstance or atmosphere. It is different than missing one’s family or saying goodbye, and it is hard to explain and justify even amongst my own kin. What I am feeling now is not something that carries a name for my people; there are a lot who do not try to understand. Some types of human sadness come and go. This type of sadness can be long-lasting. I carry mine with me, it seems, no matter what I go. It stays, though I do not ask it to.”

There is a little bit of shame to your countenance it seems to Legolas, as you glance down at your hands. You are meek in the fading light of the evening.

Legolas is not sure he has seen someone who looks as human as you do, against the backdrop of the trees and earth.

“Your mind seems fragile,” He says.

His words come as a frank observation, although gentled in tone. It is a paradox for something so piercing to be soft. Legolas takes great care to not offend you, even now. You would be offended if another of your race said the same, but there’s something about the way the words come from his mouth that do not make them a personal affront. These words do not seem to change whatever opinion he has of you. (An opinion that seems more positive than one you would give of yourself to him.)

“I suppose you could say that,” Your eyes drift up again to look at the dark sky, small glinting stars beginning to appear through the cracks of the trees. “Most human minds are fragile in some way, I think. We are not made to endure the long passing of time the same as you and your race. We are more effected… more vulnerable, I think. Or rather, vulnerable in different ways.”

Your words are met with Legolas’s silence. The light-hearted elf has turned contemplative. “The burden of human life is not what I have thought it was.”

“I don’t think I quite fully understand it either, thought I bear it,” You respond, lips quirking to the side for a moment. As they meet yours for a short time, Legolas’s eyes shine in the dark. “Although I fear comparison will still leave us lacking. I know little of what it is to be an elf, but I know you and your kind carry grief of your own. It is hard for me to conceive of what it must like to see so much, for so long, and still remain so physically unchanged.”

Legolas hums but then chooses to say nothing about the subject.

“I love the stars,” You say after a brief pause. Legolas does not object, so you continue to talk. “Even in the darkness, when I have had no one else with me, they have comforted me. Sometimes, like tonight, when my heart pulls me inward, they seem to whisper to me and cause my gaze upward.”

There is a companionable silence that follows. You sit next to Legolas, he next to you, as you stare up at the stars glittering across the black expanse of the night.

There is scant touch that comes across your cheek, like a breeze against your skin. A brief warmth follows, fading as quickly as it comes. As you turn your face, Legolas’s hand comes to rest against his side. Your eyes meet and he nods towards the forest path that leads to the camp where the others rest. His gaze is soft on your face.

You don’t think anyone has looked at you as he is now.

“Sleep, ithildin nîn.” You do not know what the words mean but they feel as a balm does, only for your heart and not for your body. “I will keep watch.”

For a little while, you hold his eyes. Legolas does not shy away even though he does not know what the immediate future holds; though he does not know what will become of you, or of him. You nod at his words, gathering your things and standing. You feel his gaze, even through the path you take to camp, on you until you fall asleep.

~~~~

Translation: Ithildin nîn — my starlight.

[lividstar]

愤怒的星星 ★ — COLLISION OF PARALLEL LINES.

៚ wc: 17.6k

៚ fluff, punk!hongjoong x fem!reader, slowburn, ot8 cameos, college au except idk if i did it right, mutual pining, first few parts are just flashbacks, opposites attract (kinda?) will probably be a 2-part series

៚ The thought of enjoying your Saturday morning however you please may initially seem exciting, but it can become as daunting as weekdays when you end up with tasks even on your supposed days off—which, in your case, is none other than buying a psychological thriller book for your roommate, who claims she needs it in order to share a "common interest" with the nerdy guy from her linguistics class she seems to be obsessed with. You already saw it coming when you opened your phone to find numerous missed calls from her, but what you didn't expect was a coincidental encounter with a guy who seems to have visited the bookstore for the same reason as you. It only took you two more no-longer-so-coincidental encounters for you to realize just how deep you’ve fallen into the bottomless pit.

You never really tend to realize just how much of an effect a certain person’s presence has on you until you start to crave more of it during the times you fail to feel it around.

The first time you saw him was when you were walking in and out of your local bookstore’s aisles, fingers brushing through the rows of books neatly arranged according to their genres. For how long you’ve been doing the exact same thing, you begin to forget just why and how exactly visiting the place managed to sneak itself in between your routine for the day.

Rewinding the day’s events so far so you could recall what exactly were you doing inside a bookstore standing in front of an aisle solely for the psychological thriller genre, you vividly remember your roommate calling you in the middle of your morning stroll at the park asking if you could stop by a nearby bookstore and buy her a book she apparently needs for “academic purposes.”

You were hesitant at first, thinking she was probably airing out a false reason. With the amount of times you’d come home to the sight of her deeply engrossed in a complex thriller movie, you’d assume she wanted the book solely due to her interests.

You ran your eyes through the columns once more, sighing in relief when you finally found the book your roommate wanted you to buy. You took your phone out to take a picture of it and send it to her for confirmation, but just as you were about to reach for it, another person whose presence you failed to notice until now did so as well, making your hands brush against each other after reaching for the same book stacked in the sixth row of the shelf.

You immediately looked to the side and managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes slightly widening, and so did he with yours. You remember being the first one to snap back to reality, taking a step back to face him while waving your arms off in front of your chest.

“You can take it,” you said, awkwardly chuckling as you gestured for him to take the book instead. You figured you’d just buy a copy of it online, or if you’re going to be free on some days this week, perhaps you’d stop by other bookstores. Your roommate didn’t specify when exactly she needed the book, anyway.

He mirrors your actions instead of reaching for the book, gently pulling down the left cord of his earphones—you thought it was a subtle gesture of bouncing your initiation of small talk back to you, so you let your attention get taken away as your ears perked up to listen to whatever the stranger had to say.

“It’s fine, i’m sure you’ll need that one more than I do,” he said, pointing to the book neither of you were considering taking with a gentle smile. “I’ve actually read it five times already—just thought a sixth reread was necessary earlier in the morning, so here I am now.” He chuckled, and only then did you manage to get a good look at him.

His hair had a striking resemblance to the burgundy patterned carpets of the bookstore, and from the looks of it, you were able to tell from a single glance that it definitely wasn’t the first time he’s ever dyed his hair. Black sunglasses remained sat atop his head, and his ears were decorated in multiple piercings. He wore a layered chain necklace, the silver material of the accessories shining as the lights by the roof reflected on it. A dark red leather jacket was hung lazily over his shoulders, showing the black tank top he wore underneath. He was wearing black, ripped baggy jeans, and it was adorned with chains attached to its waistline. His combat boots were of the same color, and the shoelace of the left foot was undone—you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or if he simply didn’t notice. He wore silver rings on almost each of his fingers, and you were able to see that one of his nails was painted black when he adjusted one of his rings. It almost made you smile, but it wasn’t until he cleared his throat that you realized you’ve been staring at him for about a minute or two.

Your eyes widened in surprise, awkwardly chuckling as you did your best not to give him the wrong impression. “Sorry, I was just...” you trailed off, not knowing what horrible excuse you should use to drag yourself out of a potentially awkward encounter. “...just wondering why you’d want to read the same book six times straight.” Great, you certainly didn’t come off weird, but you definitely sounded rude.

Just as you were about to hurriedly mutter out an apology, the man’s stifled laugh immediately put a halt to your train of thought. “It sounds strange, doesn’t it? My friends have been asking me the same question for a while now, so this isn’t really surprising for me. See, this book has a lot of foreshadowing in it, so I think It’s nice to reread it every once in a while to see the points I’ve missed.” He shrugged his shoulders, making his leather jacket fall off smoothly on one side.

He noticed you struggling with thinking of what to respond, so he took it upon himself and steered the conversation away from himself and towards you. “What about you? what were you going to buy the book for?” he asked, and you were quick to answer—thankful for his initiative.

“Going to the bookstore wasn’t originally part of today’s schedule, but apparently my roommate couldn’t get any more lazier and asked me to stop by to purchase the book for her because she can’t do it herself.”

There was something about the way you expressed your frustration (although jokingly) with a deadpanning look on your face that almost made him want to laugh, and you could tell by the way he was visibly fighting against the corners of his lips that were twitching upwards.

“That’s tough,” he stated the obvious as he ran his jewelry adorned fingers through his burgundy hair—with the way you saw a line of sweat drip down by the side of his face, you knew you weren’t the only one who found the bookstore to be in a strangely warm temperature today.

You saw a few air conditioners here and there on the walls, and they were working perfectly fine earlier, so you assumed they were probably just malfunctioning. “Are the air conditioners going through a malfunction or something?” he voiced out your thoughts for you as he practically asked himself the question with the way it came out as a whisper while he was looking around.

You took your cardigan off, and only then did you notice the stark contrast between your choices of outfits. You were clad in a pink knitted cardigan your mother made by her own hands—she gave it to you as a present for Christmas a while ago, and underneath it was a white camisole top decorated with lace and a pink ribbon on its center—something you added yourself. You wore a long, white ruffled skirt, a piece of clothing you bought online two years ago when you and your online best friend agreed upon buying it together to wear it the moment you’ll finally get the chance to meet up. You stopped talking to each other a year ago, so you just started to wear it to your own liking. You chose to wear the pink doll shoes you found at a thrift store a week ago, and the cherry on top was the white ribbon hair clips you placed on either side of your hair.

“They were doing just fine when I first came in, so I guess it has something to do with technical issues.” You shrugged, and the man mirrored your actions yet again as he proceeded to fully take off his leather jacket as well.

Just as he parted his lips to say something, your phone suddenly rang, making both of you look at the device you didn’t even notice you were still holding in your hands until now. Staring right into your eyes was your roommate’s caller id on the phone screen, and for a second, you were debating whether to answer or not.

You decided to ignore the latter, figuring the call was made regarding the book. You apologetically smiled at the man first, gesturing to your phone as he returned your smile, urging you to go ahead as he mouths something about checking out other sections of the book store so you could have some privacy.

Once he was out of the frame, you didn’t hesitate to press the green button, bringing the phone up to your ears. “Before I proceed to say anything, I need you to answer a question of mine first. Do you think you’re capable of committing murder today?” She asked from the other end of the line, making your brows furrow as you scoffed in both confusion and disbelief at the sudden confusion. “Am I what?”

“Please just say yes or no,” she said in a hurried tone. “No... why? Did something bad happen over there?” She chuckled nervously as you heard the shuffling of bedsheets, assuming she was either rolling around her bed or sitting up.

“No, but... you see, about the book I asked for you to buy... remember that guy from my linguistics class I told you about last weekend?” You were confused about where the conversation was heading, yet hummed in confirmation anyway. “I do. What about him?”

“Okay, so, thanks to my... connections, I found out just now that he owns an annotated physical copy of the book, and, if you’re already catching my drift...” she trailed off, yet the moment she heard your sigh from your end, she was quick to regain composure and stumble over her words.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I wouldn’t have sneaked the task in between your schedule if I had known beforehand—I just really don’t want to waste the opportunity of a potential connection between us... and, I mean, well, yeah, I should’ve done it by myself to begin with, but I wasn’t really thinking straight earlier in the morning so I—” you cut her off by ending the call, heading straight to your messages as you scrolled down to look for her contact number.

The sound of your nails clicking on the phone screen echoed across the empty aisle as you typed, “Go shoot your shot. Don’t stress it out, alright? Just make sure this won’t happen again. Love you :)” With a sigh, you turned your phone off and put it back inside your bag. You were happy for your roommate, yet at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel like you just wasted a portion of your day.

Exiting the aisle, your thoughts went back to the man you were just engaging in small talk with a few minutes ago, eyes darting around the bookstore to search for him. You didn’t see which direction he went when he left, already having your back turned against him the moment you heard his fading footsteps.

The man sitting by the register who seemed to be around the same age as you noticed you and was quick to call for your attention. “Are you looking for the redhead, miss?” And for a second, you were slightly embarrassed, but it was the truth, anyway, so you found yourself nodding wordlessly. “He already left a minute ago.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, you almost let a disappointed sigh slip out of your lips, but you were quick to cover it up. “I see. Thanks for telling me,” you said, flashing him a polite smile as he gave you his own.

Figuring there was no longer any purpose for you to stay inside the bookstore any longer, you headed to the exist, the clinking of the bells on top of the doors ringing in your ears as you swung it open, putting your cardigan back on when the cold temperature of the city hit your skin like a speeding truck. Only then did you realize you didn’t even get to ask for his name, and since then, he hadn’t left your mind for the rest of the day.

The next time wasn’t any different. You were taking a stroll at the park for a much-needed unwinding after taking your exams. Kids were running around and chasing each other by the grassy fields, couples were being all cute and cuddly as they sat by the benches, and some elderly people were walking around much like how you were, admiring the beautiful sceneries unfolding in front of their very own eyes.

Your pink dress was being carried away by the soft breeze, making it flow as you took one step after another. Thankfully, you chose to wear a long dress for the day, so you didn’t have to worry about any potential wardrobe malfunctions.

From a near distance, you saw a little boy standing by the grass fields pointing towards you. His voice was a little loud, so you managed to hear what he was saying to the two men he was with. “Wooyoung-hyung, look! A princess!”

The little boy’s comment caught you off guard, making you look the other way as you pretended not to hear the words he was saying, which were hard to ignore due to how loud he was speaking. “Kyungmin, she’s not a princess, and you can’t just point to strangers like that!”

The man who you assumed to be his older brother lightly scolded him, and for a second, you were debating between playing along with the child’s wide imagination—it wasn’t his fault for thinking you were a princess as he was still young, after all, or fleeing from the park so his attention would be directed to something else so his brother would stop scolding him. “But she is a princess! Seonghwa-hyung, you see it too, right?” The other man with them was probably a friend of the little boy’s brother.

“Well, Kyungmin, she might look like one, but she isn’t—” the man you assumed to be Seonghwa stopped in between his words all of a sudden, and the next thing you knew was the little boy was standing right in front of you, tugging on your dress that was still flowing due to the wind.

“Kyungmin!” Both men yelled his name in unison, but he ignored them, his attention fully focused on you instead. “Miss pretty lady! You’re a princess, right? Right?” He looked up at you with a smile, and once again, you found yourself ignoring the latter between your choices of how to handle the situation.

You sat down so you could see each other eye to eye, a fond smile spreading across your face as you let out a soft laugh. “You think I’m a princess?” You tilted your head, making him let out a gasp of disbelief. “But you are! Wooyoung-hyung and Seonghwa-hyung won’t believe me, but I know you are! Right?” he asked for confirmation again, making you laugh once more as you rested your hands on the area of your chest where your heart was.

“Well… I think it depends on what you want to believe. I won’t tell you whether I’m a princess or not, but if you think I am, then so be it. What you believe in is what matters the most, and not what anyone else does, don’t you think?”

You figured talking some wisdom into a boy who’s probably still in kindergarten wasn’t exactly the best way to handle the situation, but it’s not like you knew better ways. Seeing his smile grow even wider after hearing your words, though, was enough to let you know you handled it just fine. “So you are a princess! I knew it!” Okay, well, that was definitely not the reaction you were going for, but at least he’s happy, right?

“You should tell them that, too!” He pointed to where his brother and his friend stood, but this time, there were three of them, and the one standing in the middle was definitely not an unfamiliar face to you contrary to the two who stood by his side. You certainly couldn’t have been mistaken—especially not when you saw his burgundy hair.

Your eyes met briefly, yours widened and his completely normal, save for the fond gaze you assumed was probably directed to the little boy in front of you. He probably didn’t even recognize you at all. “Come with me, miss pretty lady! You should meet them so they’ll be proven wrong,” he said, reaching for your arm as he took a step towards where the three men stood.

When you didn’t budge from where you crouched at all, he looked back at you with a confused expression on his face. “What’s the matter, miss pretty lady?”

You chuckled awkwardly as you stood up, looking down at him. “They’re waiting for you, not me. Go on now, don’t keep them waiting. I’m sure you’ve proven them wrong already, anyway,” you said, using your free hand to take his off your wrist. “Are you sure? I…”

“Kyungmin!” His older brother called out his name once more, making his head turn to where they were all standing, patiently waiting for the little boy to go back to them. “See? You should go.” You ushered, making him look back and forth between you and his brother and his friends for about a few seconds.

“Well… okay, then.” The frown on his face was a huge contrast to the huge smile he once had a few seconds ago, and you were quick to do whatever you could to bring it back.

“Hey, don’t be sad, alright? It’s always better to spend days like this with a smile on your face,” you said, smiling at him fondly. “Will I get to see you again?” The sudden question put you at a loss for words, and you spent a good couple of seconds thinking of how to respond correctly.

“Neither of us know the answer to that, but if you ever see me again, I promise I’ll let you introduce me to your brother and his friends, okay?” It was definitely not the right thing to say, but it was certainly what the boy wanted to hear.

With the smile on his face returning, he waved at you enthusiastically, running back to the three men who have been waiting for him for quite a while now. He approached them with a cheerful expression on his face, and you watched them slowly start to smile as well while the little boy told them about his interaction with you.

Unbeknownst to you, your attention was unconsciously directed towards the burgundy haired man who was now exchanging laughter with his friends while the little boy was still going on about his story. This time, he was wearing a see-through black jacket with a beige compression long-sleeve shirt underneath, partnered with baggy denim jeans that were secured by a black belt with embellishments. His ears had less piercings this time, and so were the amount of necklaces he wore. His boots were the same as the ones you saw him wear when you first met him, and his fingers were still adorned with multiple accessories. You could tell he opted for a casual look today, yet he still looked as cool as ever. Perhaps it was due to the vibe he carries with him, and not just his choices of clothing itself. There’s still a huge contrast between your outfits.

The little boy didn’t mention his name when he was talking to you earlier, and that was the only thing you were disappointed about with your heartwarming interaction with him. You’d probably look strange if you were to approach them, yet it proved to be impossible either way as they now had their backs faced towards you, walking away as they continued their conversation. Luck really hasn’t been on your side lately. You wonder when it will be.

Three weeks later, and you’re now walking through the halls in search of your roommate. Thirty minutes ago, she sent you a message, telling you to meet her on the third floor. She didn’t really tell you why, and it drove you off the edge more than it should’ve—one thing you’ve always disliked was when people would ask you to meet up for an unspecified reason, or even worse, message you by texting you only your name and your name alone without telling you what’s the matter beforehand. So now, here you were, eyes searching the halls in hopes of finding a familiar face.

“Hey!” A familiar voice called out a few steps behind where you stood, making you immediately look back. Sighing in relief as you recognized who it was, your roommate made her way towards you, pushing past the small portion of people crowding the halls. “Sorry for asking to meet up all of a sudden—I know you hate it when I do this, but I promise this is the last time!” So was last week, you said in your thoughts.

“What’s this about, anyway? And it better not be about your crush from your linguistics class because I swear—” She cuts you off with an apologetic chuckle, making you sigh in disappointment. “Nope, I’m not doing it.”

Just as you were about to walk away, she held your arm to keep you steady in your place, desperately pleading as she shook your arm repeatedly. “Please, please just hear me out! I promise I’ll leave you alone after this!” No way in hell you would, you thought once again.

Still, you chose to hear her out anyway. Sure, she may be annoying at times—especially when it comes to her undying crush on the boy from her linguistics class, but you can’t really deny the fact that you hold a soft spot for her deep within. When it wasn’t about her man who technically isn’t her man but you’re sure will be her man one day, she was really fun to be around. She was loud and outgoing, a huge contrast to your calm and collected personality, and as different as you both may be, you feel the most comfortable around her compared to anyone and everyone else. Whenever she’d notice you were feeling down, she wouldn’t hesitate to speedrun to the nearest convenience store by where you both lived, buy you your favorite food even during the times her pockets are begging for her to leave them alone for once, and put on your favorite movie once she comes back.

So then, you now find yourself heading towards the library to look for yet another book her crush has apparently been frequently visiting the library for lately. You figured you should hire whoever’s airing all this information to her as your detective one day, if it ever came to it.

Apparently, the book is a tale as old as time, so he couldn’t really find a copy of it anywhere, hence why he chooses to visit the library on a daily basis to read it. Your roommate thought sharing the same interests with him would be a great way to deepen her “connection” with him—if they even had one to begin with, considering how the only bridge between both of them was the annotated book she borrowed from him—which she still hasn’t returned—and that was pretty much all of it. She claims she’s too shy to approach him, and maybe that’s why.

You found yourself standing in between two tall bookshelves once again, the situation being somewhat familiar to you in a way that almost made you laugh. This time, though, the air conditioners were working just fine, and you weren’t accompanied by a presence other than your own.

Your eyes search through the books neatly stacked in the shelves, squinting and inching closer to get a better view in case you accidentally miss the book you’re looking for. There was a blank space in between two books, and for a moment, you assume the book had already been borrowed by your roommate’s crush, or maybe someone else.

You were about to message your roommate to tell her about it, until you heard some shuffling from the other side of the shelf you were facing, drawing a confused expression on your face. You heard from one of your colleagues that the librarian was way too strict for everyone’s liking, so students would mostly stop by the library just to borrow a book, but never to actually stay.

Which student was brave enough to actually stop by the library to read? Wouldn’t they be at least a little scared to be yelled at to shut up over the smallest of things such as breathing like how a normally functioning person should?

Peeking through the empty space in between the books to see who it was, your eyes widened comically as you recognized the person solely from their hands resting on the table alone. The sight of a singularly colored nail and layers of rings and bracelets couldn’t have been more familiar to you.

But what was he doing here? His hair was half blonde and half black, though, so you were contemplating whether your assumptions about his identity were correct or not, but you knew there was only one way to find out—and it certainly wasn’t peeking through a bookshelf like a creep.

Exiting the aisle—a familiar experience once again, you slowly walked towards the table while rethinking your life decisions, wondering if you should just leave him alone and mind your own business. You were on the brink of considering it, but it wasn’t until you recognized what he was reading.

It was the book your roommate asked you to borrow from the library, and it was certainly the one meant to be placed in the blank space by the aisle you were searching through just now.

Your mind was racing with questions pleading to be answered—the first ones being, Who the hell is this man? Why do I keep seeing him around? Why did no one ever tell me he goes to the same university as I do? And what is his name?

You figured there couldn’t have been a better time for your questions to be answered other than now, and even if you were gambling with the possibilities of him either recognizing you or not feeling any sense of familiarity with you at all, you couldn’t really care less right now.

“Hey,” you were hesitant, making your voice come off as soft and barely above a whisper—and it certainly wasn’t due to your fear of being scolded by the librarian. The man shot up and immediately turned his head around, and as he stared at you with those eyes of his, you knew your assumptions regarding his identity were correct, after all.

For about a second or two, all he did was stare at you with a blank expression on his face, and you swore you were about to let the ground swallow you whole right there and then. But for the next second, his face softens as he flashes you a toothy grin, and the words that soon followed after it caught you completely off guard. “It’s you.” It’s you?

What on Earth could he have possibly meant by that? Does that mean he recognized you when his friend’s little brother was talking to you within a fair distance from where he and his friends stood by the park, after all? Does that mean he remembers? “I was starting to think I’d stop seeing you around. Turns out we’re closer than I thought we would be.” Okay, what?

“What?” You voice out your thoughts by accident, tilting your head in confusion as all he did in return was smile at you once more. “Third time’s the charm, after all, isn’t it?” He closes the book laid out in front of him on the table, pulling out the chair beside him, tapping on it as he gestured for you to take a seat.

You do so wordlessly, awkwardly fiddling with a loose stitch of your white knitted sweater adorned with baby pink strawberry patterns. How come you’ve never seen him around? With a face as strikingly beautiful as his, you’re sure you would’ve already noticed him long ago—or maybe you were just looking at the wrong places all along.

“He still thinks you’re a princess, you know.” He rests his elbow on the table, placing his chin on his hand as he looks at you with a smile. “Who?”

“Kyungmin—the little boy from the park, remember?” That was all it took for you to put two and two together and realize what he was talking about, making you let out a hum of realization, nodding soon after. “He hasn’t stopped talking to us about it, especially Wooyoung, since he’s his older brother and he’s pretty much the only one out of all of us who keeps on breaking his little bubble of imagination.”

The conversation flowed through more smoothly than you expected a few seconds ago, and the next thing you knew was you were stifling a chuckle, careful not to drive the librarian mad—actually, was she even still around right now? He was practically speaking in a normal tone and not in hushed whispers, so he should’ve been told off by now already. But he isn’t.

“It was a little hard trying to convince him to go back to you and your friends, honestly…” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as he chuckled at your response.

“Kids and their imaginations never fail to impress me. You know, when we went to the park again last night, he kept crying because he couldn’t see you anywhere. He said you promised you’d let him introduce you to us once you both meet each other again, so he was really upset. It was adorable, though.”

You found yourself smiling as you imagined the little boy crying in the arms of his brother due to not seeing you around, this time being the one chuckling.

“I didn’t mean to leave him hanging off by my words… I hope it wasn’t too much for your friend to handle his tantrums,” you said, smiling apologetically. He waves his arms off in front of his chest—another action appearing to be somehow familiar to you. “Don’t feel bad about it. Pretty sure Wooyoung’s used to it by now,” he responded, shrugging afterwards. He was right, the boy was his friend’s younger brother, after all.

Finding both yourselves at a loss for another topic to discuss, you opted for the first thing that came up in your head. “You changed your hair color,” you stated the obvious, rushing over to make a follow-up statement in order not to look stupid, “it suits you.”

But only after voicing it out did you realize that perhaps maybe leaving your first statement as it is would’ve been a better option. Unbeknownst to you, heat immediately flushed through his cheeks, but he was quick to cover it up, making you fail to notice the way your words made his breath hitch for a slight second. “You think so?”

“W-Well, yeah. Burgundy looked just as great, though.” It was a huge lie, though. Sure, burgundy looked good on him and suited his style pretty well, but a split-dyed hair look is always a hit or miss.

For him to make it look this good, though, definitely proved to you that it’s a hit—a rare one. Even so, you were just glad you managed to save yourself from embarrassment, playing off the fact that you literally just complimented a stranger.

But with the way you’ve been thinking of him ever since you first touched each other’s hands by accident at the bookstore, was he really still a mere stranger to you at this point?

He found himself smiling at your comment, fiddling with the rings on his fingers like how you were doing with your sweater just a while ago. “Thanks, I definitely needed to hear that.” With his response, you looked at him in confusion, subtly asking for context. He was quick to catch on, bracing himself for a little bit of a story time.

“My roommates have been flaming me ever since I came home with the red dye all gone, asking me if my hairstylist ran out of bleach in the middle of the process. They’ve been teasing me about how my scalp is probably begging to be freed by the shackles of my stylist at this point, too.” You then ended up thinking about it as well. Just how many times has this man changed his hair color by now?

“Wanna take a guess?” You didn’t need further explanation from him in order to know what he was talking about, as you’ve already been pondering about it anyway.

“I’ll say… five times, maybe?” If the correct answer was to go way past that, you think you’ll end up having the same thoughts as his roommates by the end of the day. “I hate to be the bearer of the bad news, but the answer’s very far from that.” Oh.

Seeing the flabbergasted expression on your face, he laughed loudly, and only then were your suspicions about the librarian no longer being around confirmed. If she was, he’d be thrown out the window by now. “Surprising, isn’t it? I don’t know how my scalp is still holding out well until now, either.” He shrugged, and about a couple of seconds after, you ended up joining him on his fit of laughter as well.

“I gotta say, though, that’s really impressive. Anyone else would be bald by now,” you said, making him laugh once more with how you voiced out your thoughts in such a serious tone. His laughter died down after a little while, eyes now staring right into yours. “What brings you here, though?” He finally brought it up, making you wordlessly point to the closed book in front of where he sat by the table.

“Take a guess. It’s not any different from last time,” you said, and he was quick to piece your words together. “Your roommate?” You nodded, mimicking his actions as you rested your chin on your hands like how he did earlier.

Right now, he was lazily slouched on the chair, one arm of his placed on the table as the other was resting on his thigh. He seemed to be comfortable. Only then did you manage to look at him completely from head to toe.

The contrast between your choices of clothing remained the same as ever, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. For you, beneath your white knitted sweater was a pink lace camisole top, paired with a short, pink frilly skirt. Along with your pink doll shoes—one that was different from what you wore when you went to the bookstore a while ago, was a pair of knee-length lace socks with pink ribbons resting atop its garter. And lastly, for your hairstyle, you decided to go for a simpler look today, with half of it tied up and adorned with a large pink ribbon hair clip.

For him, you noticed he looked simpler than how he’d usually style himself. But then again, you’ve only ever seen him twice before today, so you were not one to talk. He wore an oversized black shirt with a simple red graphic design in front, and it was tucked in his black denim cargo jeans that were held up by an equally simple black belt, partnered up with glossy black boots that were shining every time he’d move his feet around due to the lights by the roof of the library reflecting on its shiny surface. He was only wearing one necklace today, but as always, his hands were clad in multiple accessories. A cap, which you assumed he was probably wearing earlier before you found him, remained sat on his lap. When he ran his right hand through his hair, the sleeve of his oversized shirt went down a little, giving you the chance to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that says, “NO 1 LIKE ME.”

Once again, you failed to see the corners of his lips twitching upward when he noticed your eyes raking over his form, eyes twinkling in amusement. You’ve only seen each other thrice, but for each time that you did, something that would never overlook his attention was the way you’d always examine his clothing. It was cute, though. And it’s not like he doesn’t do the exact same thing every time as well, anyway.

His smirk disappeared as quick as the speed of light the moment your eyes met his, making you avert your gaze immediately. It’s not like you were uncomfortable, but rather because his eyes just hold such an intense aura within them that never fails to make you feel intimidated—in a good way, you assume.

“You know,” you began to speak, although still refusing to meet his eyes, “I still don’t know what your name is, and we’ve crossed paths three times already…” Due to the lack of a response from him, you were quick to assume you were probably overstepping a few lines.

What if he doesn’t really want your connection with each other to go way past two people who coincidentally see each other in the most random circumstances and places? What if he liked things better this way—you not knowing his name, and him not knowing yours?

But your thoughts dissolved into nothingness the moment he finally spoke up, his voice a little softer than you could recall as he says, “Kim Hongjoong.” Of course his name is just as beautiful as he is. Were you really surprised at this point?

“Kim Hongjoong,” you let his name roll off your tongue, and something you failed to notice yet again due to how you were still refusing to face him was the way his breath hitched—again. “What about you?”

He was quick to come up with a question to ask in order to keep his composure, head tilting ever so slightly, secretly anticipating for you to turn your head towards him again. And it seems luck chose to be on his side today, with the way you did exactly what he wished for you to.

“Me?” You asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, you.” You were hesitant at first—once you and Hongjoong finally exchange your names with each other, there’s no guarantee of which direction your affiliation with him would lead to.

Sure, you may have been overanalyzing things a little—maybe he’s just asking for your name with the hopes of being friends, but even so, you couldn’t help but wonder where you were both headed, because even if you were only a potential friend to him, he certainly wasn’t one for you.

You knew the risks of dating way before you even first entered college two years ago. If anyone were to wish for a relationship, the best periods of time to do so would either be in high school or adulthood. High school’s for the cheesy moments, the sneakily exchanged glances during class, the chasing each other by the fields, the heartfelt confessions during prom night. You’d break up with each other over something childish yet would be serious if you were to be at the age of a high school student, and you’d forget all about it the moment you step into your college life.

Getting into a relationship once you have grown into an adult would be the best option out of all, because as we grow older, we learn more things about life each day. Relationships during high school are ruined pretty easily usually because of how both parties aren’t emotionally mature enough to handle conflicts, and such an occurrence can be easily avoided if you’re both functioning adults with a better perspective on most things in life. It’d certainly be more mature compared to the aforementioned.

But relationships during college aren’t exactly the brightest of all. College students are around the ages where all you’d ever want is to mess around and have fun no matter the cost knowing you’ll barely ever get the chance to do so once you step into adulthood. So, with that being said, relationships being taken seriously by college students isn’t really a common occurrence. They live to fuck around and find out, and that’s all that’s there to it. You’ve seen girls getting their hearts shattered left and right by stupid men who seem to only think with their hormones, and you know how bad it gets.

From struggling to balance their studies and relationships to completely losing focus on their goals because apparently a conventionally attractive yet emotionally unintelligent man is worth crying over more than great examination results were, all you know about college relationships is that it either plays out surprisingly well and lasts long, or it could initiate the beginning of your downfall for years on end. You swore you’d never try it out, afraid to end up being part of the latter.

But as hard as relationships during college seem, resisting your undeniable attraction towards the man sitting in front of you also proved to be just as difficult with the way all you could think about at the very moment was how those soft hands of his clicking on the table while patiently awaiting your response would feel against your skin. It wasn’t much of a surprise for you, anyway—you knew you were doomed the moment your eyes first met his in an empty aisle and you ended up staring at him longer than you should’ve.

You knew there was no point in considering the pros and cons of deepening your connection with someone who wasn’t meant to play a role of just a friend and nothing more in your life—and might I add, someone you’re heavily crushing on yet would rather jump off a cliff than admit it to yourself and accept the terms, knowing even if he asked for your name that day at the park or that one time in the bookstore, you would’ve given him what he wanted with zero hesitation anyway.

And so you do.

He proceeded to mirror your actions from earlier, rolling your name out of his tongue—and you swear your name hasn’t sounded so beautiful until now. “That’s a beautiful name you’ve got,” he starts, and when you finally gained enough courage to turn your head to the side and meet his eyes, you were met with that toothy grin of his you didn’t seem to be able to get enough of, “it suits you pretty well.”

“Oh, I—” You weren’t sure whether to be thankful for your friend for saving you from embarrassing yourself over not knowing how to react to Hongjoong’s unprovoked compliment, or to completely loathe her for cutting in between your conversation with him once again.

You’ve been getting deja vu over the parallels between everything that’s been happening right now that has already happened before although under a different situation way too often it’s actually starting to make your head hurt.

The loud ringing of your phone echoed around the empty library, and once again, you found yourself contemplating between pressing the green button or the red one. But not this time, no. You figured she’s probably calling to ask you whether you’ve borrowed the old book from the library yet, and that’s a question you were capable of answering either through text or personally, so you clicked on the red button, hearing Hongjoong let out a confused hum. “Why’d you decline?”

Because I’m feeling selfish right now and couldn’t care less about my roommate and her linguistics crush, especially not when you’re sitting right in front of me looking so breathtakingly beautiful like you’re an angel from an art museum that came to life and escaped to taste the wonders of life, was what was begging to escape from the pit of your mouth, “It’s probably about the book, so I’ll just talk to her in person later,” was all that came out.

And with the way he looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else, you knew he knew of your thoughts. Thankfully, he was kind enough not to bring it up. Or he probably didn’t notice at all. Truth be told, you’re hoping the latter was the case.

“What’s up with your roommate and books, anyway?” He asked curiously, although you could tell there was a hint of playfulness with the way he spoke. “You mean what’s up with her crush from her linguistics class and books?” You shrugged, holding back your laughter when you noticed his eyebrows shoot upward ever so slightly with his mouth agape.

“Oh. So that’s what it’s about, huh?” You let out an exasperated sigh, faking a frustrated expression as you responded, “Unfortunately so.”

Classes had already ended a few minutes ago, but students were still allowed to stay in the library afterwards—at first, you thought the implemented policy was stupid at first, seeing how literally no one ever visits the library, but now, you find yourself being grateful for it.

You both sat beside each other as silence surrounded both of you, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that would drive you on the edge and make you hurriedly think of what you should do or say in order to dissipate the looming tension, no. The silence between you and Hongjoong was comfortable. He wasn’t demanding you to speak, and neither were you. But just as the silence was starting to grow deeper, you were drowning in an ocean of your own thoughts again—specifically, thoughts about Hongjoong.

You weren’t sure when it happened or if you were the one who moved or if it was him, but the distance between both of you was now smaller than how it was a few minutes ago—you were sitting so close beside each other you’d occasionally feel the fabric of his jeans brush against your thigh whenever either of you would move. Since he was now closer, the scent of his cedarwood perfume engulfed you completely. You thought it made perfect sense for someone like him to favor such a scent—it suits him pretty well.

Every now and then, you’d steal a few glances from your peripheral vision while he remains engrossed in his phone, chewing the inside of your cheek whenever you’d find yourself wondering what it would feel like to rest your head on those shoulders of his. You were wondering what it feels like to rest your head on those shoulders of his?

And since you’re way too focused on not making yourself too obvious, you, as usual, fail to notice him doing the exact same thing as well. He was scrolling on his phone, sure, but in reality, he wasn’t even reading any of the posts that were appearing on his feed, way too focused on the way your eyelashes would flutter so beautifully whenever you’d blink.

The awkward smile you gave him when you first met each other in the bookstore is an image he had taken a mental photograph of, the memory still lingering in the back of his head clearly. The first thing he noticed about you that day was the way almost all of the pieces of clothing you wore were adorned in ribbons, as it reminded him of himself, in a way.

But instead of ribbons, anyone could find more than a handful of silver chains attached to almost everything in his closet. You seemed to love wearing knitted sweaters and cardigans, much like how half of his wardrobe consisted of leather jackets in varying designs and colors, though most of them were black, just like how most of yours were pink. It’s amusing to him how you two were so similar yet so different all the same.

The day he went to the park with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung’s little brother, Kyungmin, he wasn’t really any different from you. You’d never know of it much like the other way around, but even when he went to the park with the same purpose you had, he couldn’t get you off his mind. It was as if his mind was the shore, and you were the waves of the ocean constantly pushing forward after being pulled away by the tides.

So, when he came back to where Seonghwa and Wooyoung were after separating himself from them for a while to look for less crowded areas of the park they could go to, to say he was surprised to see you talking to Kyungmin would be nothing short of a huge understatement.

“What’s Kyungmin doing over there?” he asked Seonghwa and Wooyoung, to which one only laughed at while the other sighed. “He kept on insisting that the girl he’s talking to right now is a princess and wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I told him she isn’t. Then he ran off, and the next thing we both knew was he’s already tugging on her dress.” Hongjoong’s gaze went back to you, who was now crouching to face Kyungmin eye to eye.

It wasn’t exactly like he could blame the little boy for thinking that way—you did look like a princess, especially with the beautiful dress you chose to wore that day, and not to mention, the natural look of your face he was sure people under the influence—and even those who aren’t—would mistaken as one that belongs to an angel gracing the Earth with her presence.

He couldn’t believe his very own eyes that day. When he left you by yourself when you had to answer a phone call in the bookstore, he was originally supposed to head back to the aisle you were at after checking out the other sections that seemed interesting enough to grab his attention, but just as he was about to, another one of his friends (a.k.a roommates) along with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, Mingi, messaged him, telling him to come home as soon as possible because Yunho burnt the kitchen while trying to remake a recipe he saw on his feed.

At first, he thought they were just messing around with him—a normal occurrence, at this point, but it wasn’t until Yeosang sent a video of the kitchen actually burning to their group chat. Hongjoong could no longer afford to go through all the five stages of grief looking for an apartment that would suffice for eight people, so he immediately left the bookstore and ran faster than the speed of light.

Just as he was about to cross the street the moment the lights for vehicles turned red, he started contemplating between quickly heading back to the bookstore just to bid you farewell or just heading straight to his apartment building. His phone vibrated once again, and his lockscreen was being flooded by notifications of his roommates spamming his DMs, most of them coming from Jongho and San. Only then did the answer become clear to him.

Fortunately, he was able to fix the fifth problem his roommates have created for the week on time, immediately proceeding to scold all of them, save for Seonghwa who just got home from buying groceries and was now cleaning up the kitchen. For a fleeting moment, his mind drifts back to you, making him scold the six men even more than he should’ve, not-so-slightly upset over the fact that they timed burning the kitchen perfectly right when Hongjoong was just about to head back to you and continue your conversation.

Later that night, they were messaging one another one by one privately, each of them all saying the same thing: “It wasn’t really that deep. What got him so riled up?” But not even Hongjoong himself knew the answer to the question he never knew they were thinking of.

He thought he wasn’t going to see you again, and it never failed to make him feel confused whenever he found himself being a little too disappointed over it. So, when he saw you again—talking to his friend’s little brother, if anything, he was at a loss for both words and thoughts. The moment Kyungmin pointed to where he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa stood, your eyes met for a fleeting second, and with the way he saw your eyes widen ever so slightly, he felt a little too happy over you recognizing him, so he did the first thing he thought of—trying to look as unbothered as possible even though his heart was literally spinning around, begging to be freed.

He failed to realize how smiling at you would’ve been a better option until he saw the way the corners of your lips went downwards ever so slightly upon seeing the look on his face, and before he could even clear things up by waving at you or literally anything to make sure you know he knows you, your gaze was already back on Kyungmin, and by the looks of it, you didn’t seem like you wanted to look his way yet again. To be fair, neither would he.

And as usual, he still couldn’t get you off his mind that day—though this time, it was worse, especially with the realization over the fact that he could’ve walked up to you yet didn’t dawning over him. He was beyond frustrated, to say the least. So, so frustrated he couldn’t even sleep.

Figuring his emotions were way too all over the place for him to be able to fall into a deep slumber, he sat up with a groan, stumbling over with his steps as he went to the living room, finding Yunho sitting by himself on the couch while watching a film that seemed to be a coming of age romance movie.

“What are you all up and about for?” Hongjoong walked around the couch, sitting beside Yunho as the cushion underneath him sank. “I could ask you the same question, you know,” Yunho responded, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance, obviously way too focused on the movie playing on the television screen in front of him.

“Just frustrated over some things.” Hongjoong leaned against the couch, sighing as he initiated a staring contest with the ceiling. With this, Yunho was quick to reach for the remote, pausing the movie before shuffling around so he could face Hongjoong while sitting down. “What’s the matter?”

“Do you ever think about something so often it starts to make you feel frustrated?” His question had Yunho pondering for about a while, making him think about it thoroughly.

“Depends on what this “something” we’re talking about is. I’m pretty sure that would mean two different things, depending on whether it’s “something” or “someone,” so which one of the two is it?” Hongjoong was hoping Yunho wouldn’t bring it up, but oh well. If he’s screwed, then he’s screwed.

All he had to do was stare right into Yunho’s eyes, hoping he’d put two and two together—and luckily, he did. “Since when?” Yunho was surprised, given how Hongjoong isn’t exactly the type of person who’d let himself be bothered by such things. Still, he wanted Hongjoong to tell him all about it, thankful he trusts him enough to do so.

“I don’t know, honestly. We just met by coincidence in the bookstore a few blocks away about a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to go through a single day without my head being filled with thousands of thoughts ever since then.”

“By coincidence?” Yunho tilted his head, and Hongjoong was quick to rewind and tell him all about it. After Hongjoong was done telling him about how it started and how it’s going so far, Yunho found himself smiling, already knowing what was up with Hongjoong, while he himself was still left in the dark.

He resorted to convincing Hongjoong to get up and do all the work himself so he’d be the one to come to terms about his feelings first-hand. “You know, nothing’s gonna happen if you keep on refusing to make a move. You can’t just expect your paths to cross once again if you’ve been staying at the same spot for days on end.”

And that was when he messaged Wooyoung privately once he was back in his room, asking if he was free to hang out for the upcoming day and if he wouldn’t mind tagging Kyungmin along with him. You’ll never know he was the reason behind Kyungmin’s second visit to the park, and part of him thinks things will be better off that way.

However, both of you were going through your own predicaments unconsciously. Until now, you still don’t know why you’re thinking of resting your head on his shoulder, and in his case, he still doesn’t know why on Earth he actually debated between bidding you farewell or saving his apartment from its impending doom.

It didn’t help how you weren’t really one to open up to people, so you were left all alone trying to fix the tangled wires inside your head, unlike Hongjoong, who was blessed enough by the gods to have a friend like Yunho. Still, despite being provided moral support and advice, he wasn’t any less oblivious to his feelings than you were.

“What’s it like?” You asked all of a sudden, surprising both Hongjoong and yourself. Much to your surprise, though, Hongjoong let the blooming conversation flow freely as he said in response, “What do you mean?” You shrugged, fiddling with yet another loose stitch of your sweater—you figured you’d definitely have to fix it up once you get home later.

“You know… having a lot of roommates.” You weren’t sure why you were asking about his roommates when you could’ve asked a question about him instead, yet you were blissfully unaware of the fact that Hongjoong was more than happy to hear you ask about his roommates—his best friends.

“It’s fun on most days, yet it’s also very frustrating sometimes. Living with seven people doesn’t exactly sound like the best experience when you’re living in an apartment that can barely fit all of you—even more when more than half of us have proven themselves deserving to be banned from the kitchen.” You laughed at his words, his laughter soon following after, watching you attempting to wind down your voice with a toothy grin on his face. “Why’s that?” You managed to ask in between your stifled laughs.

“Remember when we first met?” How could you ever forget? “Yeah, what about it?” You tilted your head, wondering what your first encounter had to do with Hongjoong’s roommates burning their kitchen. “While you were on a phone call with someone, I was in the middle of checking out the other sections, but just as I was about to head back to where you were, they spammed our group chat with messages, each of them telling me to head back home as soon as possible. Wanna guess why?”

“Please don’t tell me someone actually set the kitchen on fire.” Hongjoong only laughed in response, shaking his head. “Unfortunately.” Your eyes widened slightly, scoffing in disbelief. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” This time, it was now Hongjoong’s turn to look at you in utter disbelief, making you think he was actually offended over you not believing his story for a split second.

“Don’t wanna believe me? Here,” he said, showing you the video waiting to be played on his phone screen as he gestured for you to press the button yourself. As the video started playing, a look of shock spread all over your face as you watched the fire get worse as the video progressed, hearing screams from people whom you could only assume were his roommates.

Someone draped a towel over the flames, hurriedly stepping back when his solution turned out to be an additional problem with the way the fire grew even more. “Mingi, are you fucking stupid?! Take that towel back!” to which the man named Mingi responded with, “No way in hell! San, you do it!” followed by another, “Don’t drag me into the consequences of your stupidity!”

You heard someone from the background yell Hongjoong’s name, and as the camera was turned towards where the sound came from, you were met with the sight of a man who you recognized as Wooyoung hiding behind someone who seemed to be way too calm considering the fact that the kitchen was literally being set on fire—he was even eating an apple, if anything. The video switched to the front camera, revealing a man who, this time, seemed to look too happy despite the fire unfolding right behind him, and he even had the guts to giggle and wave to the camera.

Needless to say, you were left speechless, and the video wasn’t even halfway finished yet. You pressed his screen to pause the video, being met with the sight of him contemplating whether to laugh over the memorable (strangely enough) moment or to let his grudges come crawling back at him.

Looking at the expression on his face, you couldn’t help but laugh, your voice echoing around the quiet halls of the library. “So that’s what living with seven people looks like…” With the way you spoke, Hongjoong was unsure whether you meant it in a good way or not—and if he were to be honest, that’s exactly what made your reaction even more amusing.

“That’s also why I wasn’t able to come back to the aisle after looking around. Sorry,” he apologized, sheepishly rubbing his nape. You were quicker than a millisecond to dismiss his apology, shaking your head as you reassured him that it’s fine and a while has passed ever since that day anyway so you don’t really mind anymore. You had that awkward smile on your face again, and Hongjoong had to put every fiber in him to use in order to hold himself back from just melting right there and then.

Suddenly, your phone rang yet again, cutting your conversation with Hongjoong short. Assuming it was your roommate calling you, you were about to decline the call, but it wasn’t until you read the contact number’s nickname and realized it was your mother calling you and not your roommate.

You were quick to tidy yourself and hung your pink crocheted crossbody bag over your shoulder, reaching for the book that was resting in front of Hongjoong by the table, retracting your hand for a split second when you realized you hadn’t even told him yet that the book your roommate wanted you to borrow from the library was the one he was reading before you approached him.

He looked up at you from his seat, tilting his head. “You need it?” he asked, making you nod. “If you don’t mind, of course, it’s just—” Hongjoong waved you off, gesturing for you to take it, swearing he doesn’t mind at all. Just as you reached for the book once more, his hand rested on its cover at the same time, pushing it towards your direction. It didn’t take you longer than a second to realize your hands were on top of his. Your phone has stopped ringing, and the sound has now been replaced with your thundering heartbeat.

You were the first one to break the contact, taking your hand off his. Too focused on trying to look calm—you have no idea why having composure seems to turn itself into an almost unattainable challenge whenever Hongjoong was around—you fail to notice the way a hint of disappointment flashed on his eyes with you taking your hand off so soon, and it disappeared as quick as it showed up when you reached for the book once more the moment his hand was no longer sitting atop of it.

“I, um, have to go,” you stumbled over your words as you shoved the book inside your bag, “I’ll… see you around?” You sounded way too hopeful for your liking, but before you could take your words back and replace it with something more neutral, Hongjoong beat you to it by grinning at you widely, nodding at your words. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

But he doesn’t, and neither do you.

Three weeks have passed, and the increasing amount of his library visits were starting to become more noticeable to the seven men Hongjoong shared his apartment with through every passing day. They all went to the same university, so they knew just how annoyingly cruel the campus librarian was, which made things even harder to piece together for them. Hongjoong had also spoken up once about how much he hates the librarian during one of their drinking games when he was under the influence, so his frequent visits at the library were really confusing—save for one person who had an idea what the reason behind it was.

“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” Mingi tilted his head at San who sat across from him, enthusiastically munching on the desserts he ordered while taking a few sips of his coffee in between—clearly, he didn’t hear Mingi’s question. “You’ve noticed it, right?” Mingi repeated his question, this time a little louder in hopes of getting an answer from San. His attempt proved to be successful as San finally looked up at him with a confused expression on his face. “Noticed what?”

“Oh, you know. Hongjoong and his sudden library star user transition,” he shrugged, and San let out a hum of realization after being given context. “Yeah, I have. What about it, though?” Mingi scoffed in disbelief, having a hunch that San was just playing dumb. “Come on, San. Don’t you think it’s strange? Because I do.” But the aforementioned man’s eyebrows only furrowed as he asked once again, “What is?”

“What isn’t strange about it? You know he hates the librarian just as much as we all do, right? Don’t you ever wonder what on Earth is he stopping by the library everyday for?” For a few seconds, the only thing San could do was stare at Mingi from across the table, mouth slightly agape as if he was trying to connect the dots inside his head. And then it clicks—finally. “Oh… Oh. I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it, it does seem a little weird.”

“Right? I asked Seonghwa last night if he knew anything about it, but he told me Hongjoong hasn’t brought up anything related to the library to him so far. I mean, sure, yeah, Hongjoong likes to read, so normally, it would make sense for him to visit the library every now and then—but everyday? Is he reading a compilation of the terms and conditions of every existing app?”

“You may be overanalyzing a little, don’t you think?” A familiar voice spoke up from behind San’s seat at the cafe, making him turn his head around as Mingi only had a smile on his face, already having seen the man enter the cafe before he even approached the two of them. “You know you can visit the library for more than one reason, right?” He gestured for San to move aside, opting to sit beside him as both of them were now facing Mingi, who sat on the opposite side of the table.

“And what would those other reasons be?” Both Mingi and San asked in unison. “I don’t know, maybe the usual things that happen when you’re a college student on the brink of graduation with an eye for attractive people?” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yunho, what the hell are you even talking about right now?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, leaning against the cushion of the sofa he sat on. “Think it through, Mingi. Hongjoong wouldn’t even dare to consider visiting the library everyday, had he not been developing feelings for a certain person he often sees there.” Both Mingi and San knew Hongjoong as someone who wasn’t quite fond of the idea of anything romantic, but it’s not like they knew what Yunho knew, anyway, so they resorted to laughing Yunho’s words off.

“You’re not onto something, Yunho,” Mingi began, and San continued his words, saying, “you’re on something.”

“Are you seriously accusing me of being high on a Saturday afternoon? Being high, if anything?” Yunho stared at the two men who were now proudly laughing over their joke in disbelief, frowning when he realized they didn’t even plan on taking his words with a grain of salt. “And are you seriously trying to get us to consider your idea of Hongjoong being hit by Cupid all of a sudden?”

“It’s not an idea, San. Just—would you just listen to at least a goddamn word I’ll be saying?” Yunho ran his hand through his hair, and only then did Mingi and San stop with their antics. Moments of Yunho being upset were extremely uncommon, and whenever it would happen, all of them would always fail to hear the end of it. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Where did your theory come from, anyway?”

“For the second time now, it’s not a theory. It’s a possibility loosely based on a conversation Hongjoong and I had a few weeks ago while you were all asleep.”

“So… a theory?”

“God, no!”

“It is, though.” San backed up Mingi, making him pat his back with a grateful expression on his face. “See? He gets me.” Yunho only responded by rolling his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a theory or not—just hear me out, please.” San could tell Yunho was growing tired of their shenanigans, so he was quick to lock in and get serious. “Shoot.”

“It was around three in the morning already, and I was in the living room watching a movie. Hongjoong suddenly came out of his room and sat beside me, and he asked me a question I wouldn’t have expected to come from him. He asked me if I’ve ever thought of something so often to the point where it drives me frustrated, and based on the look on his face that night, I assumed his answer would’ve been yes if I asked him the question instead and not the other way around. I told him it depends on whether it’s a “something” or a “someone,” and he gave me a look that non-verbally told me it was the latter in his case.”

“So, to sum it all up, he likes someone who visits the library often?” Mingi asked, and Yunho shook his head. “From the looks of it, I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for a certain someone to visit the library everyday.”

“Why the library, though? And why would he have to do it everyday? Doesn’t that sound a little creepy? Or maybe that’s just me, but, I mean, there’s no way you don’t find it weird at all, Yunho,” San said, wondering why on Earth would Hongjoong have to visit the library everyday just to see whoever his crush was.

Yunho sighed, “That’s not exactly the case, you know.” Both Mingi and San’s attention were completely hooked once again, both of them leaning forward on the sides of the table they sat on, eager to listen to what Yunho was about to tell them.

“What I’m thinking is that Hongjoong probably last saw his crush in the library, and that whoever that person is went out of town—but Hongjoong doesn’t know, hence why he keeps on visiting the library everyday in hopes of seeing his crush again.”

“That’s… oddly specific,” Mingi gave Yunho a skeptical gaze, whereas San remained drowning in his own thoughts. “The fact that your theory is actually highly likely to be correct is what scares me,” San said, finally speaking up after a few seconds of silence.

“It’s not a—”

“Yeah, yeah, not a theory! We get it!”

It’s been three months, at most. You wanted nothing more but to leave your hometown and head back to your apartment—you never liked the suffocating feeling the walls of your mother’s household would always give you. You’re starting to miss hearing your roommate’s loud snoring in the brink of dawn, too. You wonder how she’s holding up—it’s not really your thing to keep in touch with people while you’re away as it only makes you miss them even more, and this is something you fortunately remembered at the last minute to tell her before you left.

Your mother had contacted you that time you were hanging out with Hongjoong in the library to tell you to head back to your household as she and her garbage of a boyfriend had scheduled a three month vacation for themselves, leaving you the responsibility to watch over their house while they go out and enjoy their lives to its fullest. How pathetic.

You vividly remember feeling your heart ache with flames while you had to fight back your tears while packing your things—trying so hard to convince your roommate—who you assumed by that time was probably hanging out with the guy from her linguistics class—that you were fine when she was on the other line of the call while you were informing her about your sudden vacation, even though it was painfully obvious you weren’t by the way your voice kept on trembling with every word you spoke.

It didn’t help that all you could think of while spacing out while waiting for the train you took to arrive at its destination was the way Hongjoong’s eyes widened ever so slightly when you placed your hands atop of his by accident, as well as the way he’d flash you that toothy grin of his every single time you’d find yourselves staring into each other’s eyes.

No, it really didn’t help. Especially considering the fact that you don’t even know why the hell you were thinking of him when you were supposed to be upset because of your parents. It really, really didn’t help how thinking of him ended up painting a small smile on your face that was quick to disappear the moment you snapped back into reality.

Yet here you are now, mindlessly staring outside the window of your childhood bedroom, watching the sun slowly fall into a deep slumber as you wonder what Hongjoong could have possibly been doing by the other side of the world. Part of you regrets not taking the old book you borrowed from the library with you, but at the end of the day, you borrowed it to help your roommate forge a connection with her crush, and not with your own, for heaven’s sake. Wait, what?

And then it hits you—he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know you’re out of town and will continue to be for three more days. You wonder if he thinks of you as much as you do of him. You wonder if he’s out there, waiting for you. You wonder if he wonders what you’re doing right now as well. You wonder if he’s concerned about you.

“Oh, God, I can’t do this anymore,” you buried your face in your hands in frustration, sighing heavily as you parted your fingers to glance at your phone placed by your bedside table. Its screen, although pitch black, felt as if it was glaring directly at you, taunting you to take it and just say “screw it” and break your no-contact-during-vacation rule.

And you did, in fact, say, “Screw it.”

Quickly scrolling through your contacts, you wasted no time and immediately dialed your roommate’s number, the constant ringing of your phone echoing around the almost empty surroundings of your bedroom. Most of the things you left here before moving out have already been thrown out, it seems.

“Oh my God!” The screeching of your roommate from the other end of the line made you jolt in surprise, hissing as you felt your ears ring due to how loud her voice was. “Is this real?! I thought you said you wouldn’t call me until you’re back here! What happened?! Is something wrong?! Are you okay?! ARE YOU—”

“Calm down! Do you want me to go deaf or something?” Your voice was as calm as ever, a stark contrast to hers. “Did you really miss me that bad?” Chuckling, you await her response, which arrived faster than a millisecond.

“Did I miss you? Did I miss you? You have no idea how quiet it has been in here ever since you left! I have no one to annoy and it’s slowly driving me insane…” she let out an exasperated sigh, making you laugh. “I’ll be taking that as a yes, then.”

Your roommate clears her throat, going back to the topic at hand. “Seriously, though, why’d you suddenly decide to break your no-contact rule? Are you alright?” Concern was evident in her voice, and it almost made you tear up. You failed to realize just how much you missed her until now.

“I’m still breathing, that’s for sure,” you joked, laughing after hearing her groan as she said, “Now’s not the time for your jokes! Did something bad happen over there?”

“No, not really, but… well, you know, I’m not supposed to come back until Friday this week, but I really don’t think I can stay here for any longer. I’m all alone because my mother and her boyfriend are out on a vacation, and I haven’t had anyone to talk to for the past few months I’m not used to waking up because of my alarm and not because of your loud snoring, you know?”

Truthfully, you really did miss her. But even if you knew she was not the only reason behind you desperately wanting to leave your hometown, you figured you’d have to tell her all about it another time—just not now.

“I can’t tell whether you meant that as a compliment or an insult…” she sighed, making you erupt in a fit of laughter. Darkness was now starting to consume your surroundings, with the moon all up and about. Your bedside lamp is now the only source of light your bedroom has. “Do me a favor and take it as both?”

“Haha, yeah, real funny. I really hate you, you know.” You could tell from the tone of her voice alone that she was rolling her eyes, making you laugh once more—she seriously had to stop, or else you were certain you were gonna have to go to sleep with an aching stomach. “I don’t think you do, though…”

“You know me too well,” she sighed, faking an exhausted tone. “Is there anything you wanna tell me about? Like, you know, literally anything? I feel like all we’ve ever been talking about lately is mister linguistics class who is my man but is technically not my man but will, one day, become my man… come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever talked to me about any of your crushes—”

You could still hear her voice through the speaker of your phone, but the moment her words entered your ears, they were all muffled—you were, once again, adrift in a sea of your own thoughts. In a way, she was right about the part where you never talk to her about anything regarding your romantic affiliations—but that’s precisely because you don’t even have one in the first place, and you swore to yourself you’d keep things that way until you graduate.

But right now, as your thoughts drift back to Hongjoong yet again—something that seems to have been happening way too often for your liking at this point, you weren’t so sure anymore.

“—Oh, you do like someone!” Beaming happily, she squealed like a little child winning a plushie from a claw machine for the first time, pulling you back up to the surface of reality. Surprised, you stumbled over your words, “W-What?”

“You suddenly grew quiet when I started talking about relationships, you know.” I did?

“If I were to guess, I’d say there’s a certain someone who came to your mind the moment I mentioned the word “crush” and brought up how you’ve always been so secretive with your dating life.” You could visualize the teasing smile on her face as she spoke, and it made you feel flustered. She was right, but were you really going to tell her that?

“So, who is it? Can I make a few guesses? Promise me you’ll bring a basket of candies home for me if I get it right!” It wasn’t exactly like you were doubting her—it was more on the fact that you, yourself, weren’t even sure if you actually harbor feelings for the only person in your mind right now. If you were to think about it, wouldn’t it be too soon to say you do?

Maybe it was the way he seemed to have an eye meant for seeing everything around him as diamonds in the rough—an eye able to see the best even in those already proven to be the worst. Maybe it was the way he has no fear of expressing himself freely—maybe you just admired that trait of his and wished to have it as your own. Maybe it was the way he’s always eager to thoroughly get to know the details of everything he crosses paths with—the way he reread a book five times just to look for the foreshadowed parts may sound a little silly to be used as an example, but it serves its purpose.

You don’t really know much about him, except for the fact that he lives with seven people whom you could tell he adored so much, and that he liked to design his own clothes. So for a split second, you begin to debate whether you do like him or if you just admire him as a person.

But it wasn’t until you were reminded of the way you felt sparks ignite all over your veins when his fingers first brushed past yours that day in the bookstore, the way you stared at him a little longer than you should’ve when you saw him at the park, the way you had to hold yourself back from unconsciously leaning your head on his shoulder that day in the library—maybe the way you felt about Hongjoong was a whole book itself, and you’d also have to reread it a few times to catch everything you’ve overlooked in the long run.

You may not know him at all, but right now, one thing was crystal clear to you—you wanted to.

“Do you know the…” A little uncertain at first, you trailed off, not knowing whether you should continue or not. But then again, running away wouldn’t draw you any closer to your destination. “... Do you know anyone named Kim Hongjoong?”

Silence engulfed both of you for at least ten seconds at most, until it was broken by yet another squeal of hers. “Are you for real?! The Kim Hongjoong?! You like him?! Oh my God! Wait, now that I’m thinking about it, aren’t you two, like, polar opposites, at most?”

If only she knew.

“I guess…? Why?” You decided to play along with her for now, eager to hear what she has to say. “You two would totally be the cutest couple of the whole campus! I mean, come on, think about it! He’s a punk, and you do ballet! Well, technically, you don’t, but I trust you enough to rest assured you get the reference, so…”

“You think so?” Truth be told, you could perfectly visualize the message she was trying to deliver. Subconsciously, a smile soon began to creep up on your face over the thought of you and Hongjoong walking together, the stark contrast between your styles and the way you carried yourselves being heavily obvious.

“Oh, I know so! Wait, though—when, where, why, and how did this even start? I can’t believe you’re actually telling me about your dating life now!” She beamed, but you were quick to tone her down. “Now…? I don’t even have any experience within the dating field,” you said, bracing yourself from the scream that was yet to come from her.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Yeah, called it. “You heard it right. I wasn’t hiding anything from you—there were never any secrets to be hidden to begin with.”

“So Hongjoong is your first boyfriend—” “—I think we’re skipping a few chapters here,” you immediately cut her off, turning her assumptions down as fast as you could. “What do you mean?”

“Well… remember when you asked me to buy that one psychological thriller book from our local bookstore there?” You started, continuing after hearing a hum from the other line. “That was when I first met him. He was going to buy the same book as well, but we reached for it at the same time, and, I don’t know, we kinda… talked? And…”

You continued on, starting from when you first met him to when you last saw him. At this point, you could no longer even count the amount of times she had squealed over the phone.

“Wait, so you mean to tell me you didn’t even exchange contacts before you left the library? And he doesn’t know why you left?!” You could tell she was frustrated—and to be fair, so were you. “Well, if I did, we’d be talking to each other right now, wouldn’t we?” You sighed.

“So that means it’s been three months since you… wait, hold on… three months? Like, actually?” You have no idea why she was asking for confirmation all of a sudden, yet you let out a hum of approval anyway. “So that’s why he’s been… oh my God! If you don’t come back as soon as you can, I swear!”

“Huh? Why would I need to?”

“Hongjoong’s been visiting the library everyday for three months straight now! It’s, like, one of the many things our whole campus gossips about everyday! It all makes sense now…” What?

“What?”

“I’m telling you, you need to come back before it’s too late and he loses hope!” You couldn’t help but laugh at how she seemed to be more passionate about the topic at hand than you yourself, but in a way, she also had a point. There’s no guarantee he’d continue to wait for you until you’re finally allowed to leave your mother’s household.

And that was all you needed to hear for you to immediately hang up and rummage through the clothes you packed with you for your vacation—you could hardly even call it such, but whatever. You have no idea why you’re in such a rush, but for the first time ever, you opted for a casual look: a white shirt with an oversized pink hoodie with a half-done zipper on top of it, paired with shorts that weren’t even visible due to the hoodie’s length. You quickly slipped on a pair of white socks and wore your pink converse afterwards, having to re-do the shoelaces about three times due to messing it up over and over again because of how you were in such a rush.

You didn’t even have time to stand in front of your mirror to see what you looked like—your mind was set on coming back to you and your roommate’s apartment as soon as you could.

For a minute, you were stuck in a debate between following what you had to or what you wanted to. You knew for sure that dire consequences were to wait ahead of you if you were to follow the latter, but you could no longer find it in you to care. You had to follow your heart.

Sighing under your breath, you finally got yourself to twist the doorknob open, being met with the cold breeze of the night. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision to wear shorts, but it’s too late to reconsider things now, is it? Quickly locking the door with your keys in hand, you wasted no time in sprinting to the nearest train station, not wanting to waste the chance that laid itself upon you.

“Mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa asked, hands on either side for support as he leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes boring directly into Hongjoong, who was standing across him, too busy spacing out that Seonghwa was certain he didn’t hear anything at all.

“What?” Hongjoong’s voice was a little slurred, and one could easily tell he lacks sleep. “I said, do you mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa enunciated his words so Hongjoong could hear him better, only for the said man to respond with a chuckle.

“You really gotta stop overanalyzing everything around you, Seonghwa.” Yet the aforementioned man wasn’t having any of it. He knew very well of Hongjoong’s tendencies to deny his own struggles—even to himself, always refusing to admit he’s going through something even though it’s already crystal clear. Of course, Seonghwa and the rest knew to respect his boundaries and not pry further, but the circles under Hongjoong’s eyes were starting to grow darker, and he just couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

“I’m not buying your excuses this time, Hongjoong. Clearly, you’re forcing yourself to go through something all alone again.” Seonghwa sighed, brows furrowed in concern as he took in Hongjoong’s appearance.

“What? Like it’s the first time I’ve ever done so?” Hongjoong chuckled, although it was easy for Seonghwa to tell he was forcing it upon himself. “You know you can’t keep everything to yourself forever, right? They’re all worried about you, and so am I. Look, you don’t have to tell me all the details, okay? Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“How on Earth am I supposed to feel when someone tells me ‘see you around’ but then they proceed to literally disappear right after those words come out of their mouth? Wouldn’t you be downing a dozen shots in one streak too?” From the way Hongjoong spoke, it was clear that he was beyond frustrated. His words came out slurred and raspy, and even Seonghwa himself was surprised he understood what Hongjoong said.

Brows furrowed in confusion, Seonghwa leaned forward from the counter, clearly not knowing what the hell Hongjoong was talking about. “Woah, woah, alright, calm down. Where’d all this even come from?”

“It’s been three months—three months, Seonghwa. Disappearing without a word is one thing, but not showing up for three months is just absurd, isn’t it?” Hongjoong groaned, running his hands through his hair. Still confused, Seonghwa attempted to ask for a little more context. “Who are you even talking about?”

“Her, Seonghwa. The girl whose name I could’ve gotten sooner, had those stupid goons not decided to burn our kitchen. The girl Kyungmin mistook for a princess.”

Oh.

Oh.

So it all makes sense now. It now makes sense that Hongjoong scolded the rest of them for almost burning their apartment way too harshly than he normally would have. It now makes sense why he caught Hongjoong staring at the girl from the park longer than any other person would have. It now makes sense that—does this mean what Seonghwa thinks it does?

Hongjoong likes someone? The Hongjoong, who swore he’d never allow himself to get into a relationship yet again after a bad falling out with one of his exes a few years ago? The Hongjoong, if anything?

“Can I take a wild guess and assume she’s the reason behind your daily library visits?” Seonghwa asked carefully, not wanting to hit a wounded spot by accident. Hongjoong only sighed, “I wish she wasn’t. Really, really wish she wasn’t.”

“Why? Do you like her?”

Does he like you?

At first, Hongjoong refused to accept the terms. He knew very well of his promise to himself not to fall for anyone again, tired of experiencing the same hardships that came along with it over and over again. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of you as often as he does. He knew he shouldn’t be letting you affect him in the simplest ways possible.

Yet here he was now.

“I tried to stop myself, you know. I really did. But I just—I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to forget about her just like that, even if she’s been gone for three months straight now and I don’t even know where she is.” Seonghwa could tell Hongjoong meant every word he said. It was still mildly surprising, but the words came out of his mouth so smoothly it was enough to tell Seonghwa he was really being genuine.

“I know I look stupid waiting like a dog in the library everyday, hoping I’d be met with her awkward smile when I turn my head towards the door whenever I hear it open, but I just—I can’t, you know? I can’t stop. Not when the last words we spoke to each other was about seeing each other around. I can’t help but wonder if I messed up unknowingly, somehow.”

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, stepping forward to gently caress Hongjoong’s shoulder in a comforting way. “Why not go on a midnight stroll? I think you really need one right now. I’ll make sure they won’t burn the kitchen again this time, okay?”

“You really know how to make me feel better, don’t you?” Hongjoong chuckled, looking upwards to prevent his tears from falling down. “I’m gonna need you to remember the fact that we’ve known each other since we were kids. Of course I’ll know that,” Seonghwa sarcastically said, although a smile was plastered on his face.

At this point, you were certain your legs were about to give up before you could even reach your apartment. The train you took had a major malfunction in the long run, but you didn’t have it in you to wait for 30 minutes until the train would start working again, so you did the only thing you could—run. Okay, that was most likely not the correct solution, but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. You need to head home at least before 8:30AM tomorrow, since that’s usually when your mother would call you to ask how you, or rather, her house, is doing.

You stopped between your tracks to catch your breath, hands on your knees as your chest heaved with exhaustion. You decided to walk for at least a few minutes for now so you could regain enough energy to start running again later on, knowing there was absolutely no way you’d be able to keep on sprinting without passing out in the middle of it.

You were walking on an empty road, the dim lamp posts and the convenience stores from a distance being your only sources of light. As you were peacefully admiring your quiet surroundings, you spotted a coastline from a fair distance besides the road, only about a few steps away. As you drew closer to where the waves of the ocean met the sand, you saw a figure from afar sitting on a boulder all by themselves.

Except it wasn’t just a figure.

Your heart started racing, eyes widening in surprise as you focused your gaze on the person’s hair—you couldn’t have been mistaken. You know exactly who that split-dyed hair belongs to.

Before you even knew it, your feet had a life of its own, running towards where the figure was sitting even though your legs were literally about to give up after running for half an hour without stopping.

“Hongjoong?”

He turned around almost right after you called out his name, eyes all puffy and widened in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if he was trying to process the fact that you were standing right in front of him.

“It’s you.”

You no longer even cared if your actions were way too straightforward, immediately engulfing him in a warm, tight embrace as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Hongjoong—I’m sorry, I just…” Your voice came out as nothing but trembling whispers blending it with the midnight breeze.

For at least a few seconds, all he did was stand still, not an ounce of his body reacting to your touch. Afraid he might not have been comfortable with what you were doing, you were quick to take a step back, removing your face from his neck.

Yet just as you were about to release the grip you held around his body, he was quick to wrap his arms around yours, this time being the one to embrace you tightly. Hongjoong’s arms envelop you, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his breath—it’s an entirely new feeling, yet it felt soothing all the same, as if this was where you were always meant to be.

You let yourself let loose in his embrace, feeling the tension and worry of the past three months slowly melt away. You close your eyes, savoring the moment as you bury your face in his shoulder. The subtle scent of his cedarwood cologne that you missed so much mixed with the salty sea air lingers in your senses, making you feel grounded and safe.

His chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel him take a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to breathe you in and reassure himself that you’re really there. His embrace feels secure and protective, as though he’s shielding you from the heavy burdens of the world weighing upon you.

You notice his hesitation in the way his hands pause on your back, almost unsure of how to hold you at first. But eventually, after being allowed a little more seconds to familiarize himself with the feeling of your body resting against his, he started rubbing your back in soothing circles, making you feel lightheaded—as if all of your worries have slipped away with just a single touch.

He removes his chin from the top of your head, making you stare into his eyes with a teary gaze as he does so to yours as well. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about it beforehand, I…” you trailed off, words getting stuck in the middle of your throat after feeling Hongjoong cup your face with his hands, “... It all happened so fast, I… my mother needed me home right away, and I just couldn’t say no to her… I wish I could’ve told you beforehand, but she only told me why she needed me home when I was already there, so I couldn’t…”

Hongjoong’s gaze softens as he listens to your words. He gives you a small, understanding nod, but you can still see the hint of hurt in his eyes—his dark circles were so visible, even under the dim light of the moon. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking.

"I thought I might have done something wrong," he admits quietly, vulnerability evident with the way he spoke.. "I kept wondering if you were upset with me. It was... hard not knowing what happened.”

“When you left without a word, it felt like my world shifted,” Hongjoong begins. “We were in the library, and the last thing you said was you’ll see me around—but I didn't see you again. Not the next day, or the day after. I just kept going back, hoping you’d show up. It didn’t make sense—you were there, and then you were gone.”

“I started overthinking everything, replaying our conversations in my head. I wondered if I said something wrong or came on too strong, that maybe you didn’t want me to. I was scared that I might have scared you away somehow," he admits, and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly made your heart twist in pain.

“Hongjoong, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to leave you wondering if you ever did something wrong—I didn’t like what happened just as much as you do. I just… it’s complicated…” Truth be told, it really was.

Still, Hongjoong nodded with a faint smile on his face, reassuring you that he understands.“I know it wasn’t intentional,” he said, caressing your face with his thumb. “The nights were the hardest. I’d lie awake wondering if you hated me or if I had done something to upset you.”

You reach up to caress his face with your hands as well, staring at him with eyes that hold a swirl of emotions. “God, no, it never had anything to do with you… I’m so sorry for disappearing like that," you say softly, your voice filled with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "I wish I could have told you what was happening, but my mother... she wasn’t easy to deal with.”

As you hold Hongjoong close, you sense there’s more he wants to share, but he seems to be holding back, seemingly at war with his own emotions. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, encouraging him to express himself.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of longing and frustration. “I’ve been trying so hard to sort out how I feel about all of this,” he begins slowly. “I’ve been at war with my own thoughts ever since you left. Trying to keep my feelings under control, trying to convince myself it was just a worry for a friend. But it just… doesn’t add up.”

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, his gaze on a far distance. “Every day, I would tell myself I could keep it together, but I kept thinking about you so much, it was starting to drive me insane,” he admits, although a little hesitantly. “I tried to keep it down to just concern, but it wasn’t enough. My mind kept circling back to you, wondering where you were, if you were okay.”

His eyes meet yours again, making your breath hitch. “I’d go to the library every day, hoping to see you, hoping to hear your voice again. It was maddening, not knowing if you’d come back or if I’d lost you completely,” he sighs, as his grip on the skin of your waist becomes a little tighter. “I just couldn’t shake it off,” he continues, his voice quieting down.

“You were on my mind all the time, and the more I tried to ignore it, the more frustrated I became. I tried so hard to deny it, but...” he pauses, taking a deep breath, as if he’s steeling himself for what comes next.

“Oh, screw it all,” he finally mutters, as if giving in to his own feelings. “I love you, and I don’t think I can hold it back any longer.”

“You… What?” Your eyes widened in surprise, struggling to process Hongjoong’s words. Hongjoong only smiled at you in return, repeating his words, “I said I love you. I really, really do.”

“Hongjoong,” you begin softly, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness. Hearing his name slip out of your mouth sent his nerves going haywire—oh, how he missed the sound of it.

“When I had to leave so suddenly, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It was so difficult not being able to explain what happened or tell you how much you mean to me.” You pause, trying to find the right words.

“You know, I… I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone in until I graduated," you confess, your voice being a little softer than it already was. “So when I first started catching feelings for you, I was in complete denial. I didn’t know how to handle it.” You look away for a moment, feeling embarrassed.

“It was a war with myself, one I never expected to fight," you continued. “I told myself it was just a phase, just a fleeting crush. I even thought maybe I was imagining things or confusing friendship with something more.”

You let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to hide the depth of your feelings. “I even tried to tell myself that you were just a good friend, that I was misinterpreting my own emotions,” you admit. “But the more I tried to distance myself from my feelings, the harder it became. My heart kept betraying me, reminding me how much I looked forward to seeing you again, how your smile could light up my whole day.”

Your tone grows quieter as you share your struggle. “I kept thinking, ‘This can’t be happening. Not now. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for anyone,’” you say, vividly remembering the battle with your own feelings you once faced. “But every time I thought of you, it became harder to deny it. My heart wouldn’t let me forget you, and it drove me insane. Eventually, I lost control, and…”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to face the reality of your feelings. “Now that I’m standing here with you, hearing you pour your heart out, I just… I can’t deny it anymore,” you admit. “I’ve fallen for you, Hongjoong, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”

And that was all it took for him to inch his face closer to yours, intertwining your lips with his. The kiss was nothing short of pent-up tension being released, and you could feel every part of your body being set aflame.

His hands wrap themselves around your waist, its grip on your skin tightening every now and then. Your hand traces his jawline, soon finding itself tangled in his hair while the other one balls the fabric of his shirt into your first, feeling yourself get even more lost in the moment with each passing second.

As the kiss intensifies, there’s a sense of exploration, as if both of you are savoring the taste and feel of each other’s lips for the first time. Hongjoong’s hands slide up your back, one hand finding the nape of your neck, his touch gentle yet firm as if he was using every single fiber within his body to hold himself back, sending a shiver down your spine.

You mirror his movements, one hand now resting on his shoulder while the other presses against his back, wanting to be as close as possible. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you lost in the moment.

As your lips finally part, you both find yourselves gazing into each other’s eyes as if both of you believe the other hung up the stars in the sky. “You know,” Hongjoong began to speak. “As grateful as I am that you’re back here with me now… I can’t help but wonder where on Earth you came from...”

“Can we please save that discussion for another time?”

🪞 — lividstar.

[dollivication]

LEON S. KENNEDY REFERENCE POST - pervy!younger!step bro & mean!older!step sis!user rer2

tw: dark content! dead dove do not eat. non-con, dub-con, violence, incest

Leon was undeniably eager to meet his new sister after the marriage of your parents. It would turn out that he was far too accepting much too quickly, because he thought that he was going to be the older sibling. Y’know, the one to take care of his cute little sister, to spoil her rotten and jump to her aid as she’d shower him in compliments and gaze at him with admiration.

He didn’t know what to think when your newly wedded parents introduced you as his older step-sister. You beat him by 3 years, an unfortunate head-start that warranted teasing from other family members. It was so unfair.

Did he hate it? That.. was hard to answer. He wanted to, truly—but the firm yanks on his wheat colored locks made his tummy swirl in a delirious and questionable fashion. The jeering from you felt more like a rain of praise, blessing him with a flood to his drought. The shoving, the bleeding, the bruising, the aching. It was all such bliss.

Call him a wuss, please! Make fun of how he had such a pretty face, yet shit luck in securing a relationship with a woman even if his life depended on it. Tell him that all he was good for was to be bent over by a strong man and let him turn him into a sissy. It’s okay, he can take it—anything you say, goes, right? 

It’s why he’ll never speak up to his dad or your mom whenever you grope him under the table at dinner. He'll choke on his food at a particularly harsh grab that bordered on a punch, sputtering an excuse but not once muttering a word that would directly expose you.

He’s hurting, badly, but there’s something electrifying about it.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re the only female he’s ever been touched by, and even though you don’t let him touch you in return, he can happily come to terms with such reality. Because, fuck, a girl is actually putting her hands on him. 

Leon is shivering beneath you when you straddle him within the late hours of the night, the house silent with the exception of his heavy breathing and the tune of crickets outside. Who gave you permission to enter his room?

Well, it doesn’t matter, the eldest sibling always gets to do as they please; a lesson you have reminded him of time and time again. 

You’re taunting him again, and he can feel the blood pumping through his veins, his heartbeat in his ears whilst his palms grew clammy. A cocktail of terror and thrill numbs his rationality, your younger step brother peering up at you with glazed eyes pleadingly—the kind you’d see in renaissance paintings. The male stiffens when your hand goes further than the area where a sibling is normally allowed to touch, your finger hooking itself on the waistband of his boxers.

It’s nothing impressive. His semi-hard cock falls on his stomach, not long enough to make anyone scream from fulfillment and definitely not thick enough to really feel. But there’s an endearing charm to it. The way it twitched, how it became shiny from his own pre cum which the bubblegum-pink tip freely produced. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking as you look him over, doesn’t know if the pitiful sight will make you realize just how fucked up the entire thing was. 

You don’t force his boxers back up. No—instead, you’re peeling off your own panties, and he catches a glimpse of the slickness on the cotton material before it falls to the floor. Did you find joy in this? He’s not sure if he wants to know. He’s not sure if what he feels is excitement or resentment.. Not until you’re on him again, your vomit-inducing coos plaguing his mind, and that’s when he realizes it. You’ve infected him. He’s just as sick as you are. 

Leon’s head is thrown back and hanging off the side of the bed as you bounced on his cock, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he let out cries from the mindfuck of complex feelings. “You moan just like a girl,” you mocked, but he could barely hear your voice taunting him over the slapping of skin and his own whines. It’s pathetic. It’s disgusting. But it has him seeing stars, his body jolting everytime you bring yourself down. 

Leon doesn’t know what to do with his hands. As of now, he’s forgotten how to talk, and in the morning he may forget how to walk. Your pussy is intoxicating him, more potent than any alcohol he might get his hands on. So he clings onto his bedsheets, feeling your warm and wet cunt wrap around his dick. “Hahh.. nnh..!” 

He is fighting to say something—anything—yet his attempts to use his voice only resonate throughout the room drunkenly. 

It’s too much, but his stomach is churning with a foreign heat, a strange coil taking place in the center that’s ready to give way into pure euphoria. It’s too much, bile is rising in his throat, but if he’s learned anything from porn; it’s that good boys always swallow. 

His mouth is open, his cute, plump lips glossy with saliva as his step-sister fucked him into his mattress. His bed had been the only place he’d sought security in. Now? 

Now, its purpose was defiled by the hands of a stranger his father claims is family. 

But, God, it felt fucking great.

Leon let out a disoriented sound when he felt a sudden lack of warmth and pressure, followed by a spray of liquid that sprinkled on his upper body and covers. Weakly perking his head, he was too late to watch you ride out your orgasm, only left with an impending imagination of how it would have looked. It was all so surreal, but a few blinks soon brought him back down to earth.. And—hey—weren’t you going to let him cum, too?

Your step-brother whimpered when you pulled yourself away, your face already returning to a blank slate, like you were guiltless and free of any and all wrongdoings. Perplexed, the younger man stayed silent, knowing it was best to just let you go as you slid your undergarments back on and walk right out his door. 

Leon couldn’t fucking believe it. He let his head drop back onto his bed again with a small rebound, groaning at the sensation of his throbbing cock that had just been promised and robbed of a release… “Why am I surprised?” He pondered. You always did shit like that on the daily, anyway. Always taking, never giving.

He pondered as stared up at his ceiling through half-lidded eyes, not much thought running through his head. Everything felt sticky, and his body had broken out into a sweat. He felt gross. Despite these unsavory feelings, his baby blues slowly trailed over to his pillow, and he paused his heavy breaths for a moment…. Goddamn it.

Leon let out a deep sigh, ignoring the dull ache in his limbs as he reached under the pillow, groping around lazily for a solid minute before his hand eventually found what he was looking for. 

A picture of you. 

He took in the image of you with your legs wide open, your chubby pussy on display with your sleeping expression in the background, completely unaware of his presence making the male chuckle breathily as he felt the twitching of his length come back full force.

“Fuck, sis..” he bit down on his bottom lip, tears prickling his eyes for the second time that night as he reached his hand down to grip his already sensitive cock. “Love you.. so, so much..”

And the coil came back. 

[dozysloth]

thoughts on the salesman / contains spoilers:

the salesmean/recruiter ended up being a lot more intriguing than i excepted from his first appearances last season. that’s not to say i didn’t expect him to be a terrible person but initially i brushed him off as a sketchy businessman recruiting poor people into a death trap. i guess i didn’t think he’d be so unstable. it made him into a far more dynamic character.

bread & lottery seems to stump people because he’s not recruiting anyone. maybe he’s running a messed up social experiment on the homeless population as a side hobby like something you’d find on youtube.

will you choose the bread or choose a small chance at winning a lottery that has the potential to turn your life around? you’re used to hunger so a piece of bread doesn’t make a difference. and if you lose? you gain nothing. you’re hungry again.

he is trying to prove a point and in some twisted way he is trying to justify everything he has done and is doing. toying with people, murder, and recruiting them into a death game. he avoids looking in the mirror, denies that he is in the same position as those he deems “trash” or lesser than him. the reality is that the salesman is also hindered by classism. no matter what he does, his efforts will never be enough or recognized.

we ask why? what does he gain from this if it has nothing to do with the games? what is the purpose of stomping on and destroying the unpicked bread? why would he be upset if he’s proved his point correct? that they’re foolish and all fall into the same trap again and again and again. that he’s different than them. instead he just absolutely looses it. (buying the bread and lottery tickets in the first place just to test this is interesting, too. almost as if there’s a sliver of someone in there that doesn’t believe these people deserve to die. if he truly believed it he wouldn’t have to test it).

the final scene between he and gihun is very striking. the lighting and how it emphasizes the actors asymmetrical eyes is delicious. the innocent eye of a smiling businessman offering you a chance at a fortune highlighted in white and the cutthroat and sinister recruiter that has been hidden throughout the episode with a red glow. he looks arrogant, terrified and estatic all at the same time depending on which side you look at or both. it creates such a complex and beautiful scene and i love that his expressions surprised the director.

what gihun says rings true. he is just their dog, an underling, and no matter what he does he will never be enough in the eyes of his superiors. he stops denying it when he honours the game. he plays fair and pulls the trigger under his chin.

some other things i want to note:

- the callouses on the salesman’s hands could be brushed off by the fact that the actor actually has them. even though the shot isn’t deliberate it feels that way. here’s a handsome businessman wearing polished shoes and a nice suit. why would he have callouses if he truly is part of the elite and has a cushy job? what kind of physical labour could he possibly be doing? or had done in the past before he became a recruiter?

- the way he stands over the first homeless man and doesn’t block the sun out of his eyes. so he has to look up and squint to actually see the salesman standing over him with a smile.

- how quickly he moves to put the gun at the roof of his mouth in contrast with gihuns hesitant and cautious movements. is he just confident that he’s in control? trying to get a rise out of gihun? is he eager to die or does he just get off on the thrill of chances? it would explain his obsession with lottery and russian roulette. (i was literally speechless this entire scene.)

- it is revealed that he was one of the pink soldiers responsible in dealing with dead bodies. he also murdered his own father. he states that his actions were fuelled by the desire for his efforts to be acklowdged and recognized, and to (presumably) move up the ladder. i find it very interesting that in the final scene between the salesman and gihun he is sitting in a pink chair. and he dies in that pink chair.

i cant say much for the rest of the show as i do not plan on watching it but gong yoo really knocked it out of the park with his performance in a way i haven’t seen before in his other projects. (he was already an amazing actor).

[devotioncrater]

"i'm not gonna say anything. i'm just gonna walk into her office and i'm gonna kiss her"

now why tf did house look down at his desk and start stammering and blushing after wilson said that 🤨 "cuddy likes bold" but he does too ??? arguably more than her ???

wait no pause. actually. that entire conversation he's soooooo hyperfocused on what wilson would do. almost as if he's envisioning himself in cuddy's shoes. he also like. keeps looking at the table, looking at wilson, looking at the table, looking at wilson with an expression that's expectant. he thinks wilson will connect the dots. holy shit.

he wants wilson to connect the dots. but he can't...he can't admit it to himself. so he role plays as cuddy. he hides behind this made-up, fabricated version of reality where wilson's got a crush on cuddy. it's perfect because the only other likely person wilson would go see that play with is cuddy.

after the play, house asks for the dirty details yet 1) gets frustrated at wilson for not sticking to house's own script of Going On A Date To A Play = Sex. and then 2) gets jealous at the thought of wilson having sex after the play with the real cuddy instead of him.

there's mixed, complex feelings written all over the wall here. on one hand, house wants wilson to fall into bed with cuddy because that means that by extension from fabricating this entire thing, wilson is actually falling into bed with house who is merely role-playing as cuddy. fantasy gaga. "i'll miss you. you were a good friend." = the nature of our relationship has changed.

HOWEVER on the other hand, house can't stand the thought of wilson falling into bed with cuddy because it'd be Too Real, Too Literal. it'd be wilson having real sex with the real cuddy and — because this is wilson here — it'd be wilson having a real romantic relationship with the real cuddy. notably not with house. it'd completely fuck the fantasy up.

but house is too far gone and also likes to fuck around and find out. he knows wilson's a hopeless romantic, so he sends wilson flowers in cuddy's name. wilson interprets this as cuddy being sexually interested, which pleases house because he is sexually interested in his boy best friend.

house is overly invested in hearing what wilson's plan is to ask cuddy out after wilson says he doesn't know what "being straight" is. they're on two different wavelengths where house thinks wilson's read between the lines to figure out it was house, not cuddy, this whole time. ergo to him, wilson's "i don't know what that [being straight] is" = i'm interested in you too and i recognize that cuddy is a metaphor; i'm now knowingly playing into it.

meanwhile wilson is literally talking about the real cuddy.

house becomes clearly aroused flustered at the thought of wilson barging into cuddy's office to wordlessly kiss her. house enjoys the way wilson approaches sex & romance differently than him. i think a part of him wants a grand romantic gesture like what wilson described. "i can't stop thinking about her" / "maybe she's right. maybe...maybe this is worth exploring."

and the funny thing is, is that the office wilson does barge right into is house's office.

"you sent those flowers to me!" "yes, because you took her to a play. because actually you do want to march down there and kiss her." "no! i don't!" "yes, you do."

it's just a prank, right? it's just a retaliation, right? calling it a prank or retaliation is a rationalization to deny away how house's attraction is boiling over. he wants to explore things with wilson, wants to get rid of the "good friend" label, but he's way! too! repressed! at least to initiate it outright. so he concocts this convoluted thing just to get wilson to make the first move because, historically, wilson holds the reins in their relationship. they also, historically, work their boundaries out through pranks. why should this situation be any different?

and wilson has this look of slow, frustrated realization before he says, "you're right" because he knows house. wilson is now in on the metaphor, so he admits that he does want to kiss metaphor cuddy.

but when house's face falls, "seriously?" wilson goes right back into The Status Quo "no" because as soon as the metaphor became Too Real, Too Literal, it shook house out of it thanks to his jealousy. that, and maybe wilson — Dr. Comphet himself — got cold feet, too.

they're ships in the night. when one of them is in on the metaphor, the other isn't. house knows how to woo wilson, wilson knows how to woo house. and yet they can't!!! ever!!!! admit it at the same time!!!! house pulls on a push door; wilson pushes on a pull door; the door doesn't open

[highrook]

The Two Worlds of Highrook

(part 1 ) Blacksands

There are actually two worlds that collide to create the highrook experience. The first is the town of Blacksands and its surroundings (such as the Highrook estate where the game is based). The second is the shadow cosmic realm of Nibiru. When these two planes are brought into contact, via magics and ritual, the intersection results in horrifying consequences.

Blacksands is a decaying sea-port, settled on the broken coast of the inmost ocean. Its ash colored beaches fold in and out of dank coves and dreary estuaries.  The town itself consists of a handful of shambolic districts, tumbling from the storm battered heights of Highrook down to the rotting docks of Aldwerth. 

Hemmed in by the oily sea to the east and treacherous cliffs to the west, the streets and its inhabitants exhibit a sense of dreamlike stoicism. Trade is sparse but well weathered ships still dock at the moldering port, bringing supplies - both mundane and exotic - into the town. Its isolation has made it a haven for those who do not wish to be found; thieves and heretics alike. And because of this gathering of minds and materials, the shadowed streets of Blacksands harbor wonders both revelatory and horrifying.

Blacksands is an amalgam of the many gothic locations that have inspired me over time. From the narrow streets of Bram Stokers Whitby, through the rotting shanties of Innsmouth and the candle-lit cities of games like Thief and Dishonored. Even though our game takes place on the cliffs overlooking the town, the characters, their background and their personal goals all align with their positions in the town itself. 

Blacksands also diverges from a purely accurate historical representation of similar locations, specifically with the addition of more steampunk and magical elements. This is most obvious with the introduction of the mecanists, a guild of expert engineers and machine workers. Ritualistic practices, backstreet medicine, smuggling and underhand diplomatic espionage are all part of the bustling but covert city scene. Even though Highrook - the game - takes place outside Blacksands  proper there are continual references to the geography, politics and history of the city. 

Influences

Cities have always been a favorite fantasy location for me.  They are usually more grounded in reality than the open world, which suits my tastes more. You don’t tend to get dragons or giants hanging out in cities, they are mostly the domain of human(oid)s. This doesn't mean that fantasy cities are relegated to being historical stage sets  though. Some of my favorite fictional cities; Viriconium, New Crobuzon, Sanctuary, Leá Monde, Gormenghast are far from realistic settings.

The city of Viriconium is the location for several novels and short stories by M. John Harrison. Like much of Harrison's work it merges styles,settings and tone in a way that feels deliberately inconsistent and dreamlike. In one tale it is the site of quiet poetic recollections, in another it becomes a hub for almost sci-fi events. But throughout all the iterations it very definitely seems to have a life of its own, beyond the page.. China Miéville’s New Crobuzon, featured in Perdido Street Station and other novels, is similar in its hybrid mix of sources, but feels less dreamlike and more cinematic. Instead of the blurred edges of dreams Miéville’s city is  described in cinematic clarity, like film sets ready to frame the action of the story.

Thieves' World was an anthology series published throughout the 1980s, it took the city of Sanctuary as its central theme, but allowed various writers to interpret the city as they wished. As a result the sense of place evolved over time through a number of fairly unreliable narrators and different authors interpretations. It wavers from complex tales of diplomacy to page-turning action-adventure. But the city as a container really appealed to me when I first read the series.

Gormenghast illustration by ian miller

Finally the ruined worlds of Gormenghast and  Leá Monde have always been visual touchstones to me. Both places are abandoned crumbling citadels where the remnants of once powerful families still cling on, alongside phantoms and decay.

Leá Monde is the only city listed here that is from a game rather than a book, but that makes it no less inspiring. It's the setting for the  PS1 game Vagrant Story (2000) and like the crumbling towers of The Last Guardian or the derelict districts of the Thief and Dishonored games it offers an incomplete history of a cities past, full of ghosts and half told tales.

In all these examples, and in the case of my own Blacksands, there is an interesting contradiction between people and place. All these cities are clearly a product of their successive inhabitants, yet also seem to have their own identity that persists beyond their population.

Highrook sits at the top of the salt cliffs of Blacksands, overlooking the smog filled port and its ashen coast. But it also sits on top of a gateway to a very different world, the hidden citadel of Nibiru, which I will talk about in another post soon!

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Elsa Headcanons: A Kind Yandere (Frozen)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! The Weather outside is frightful~ And It Is time for some Yandere Elsa! I hope that you all enjoy these base headcanons and then the Christmas theme scenario! Enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer: Elsa Is Not Yandere In Canon This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Else From Frozen- 

.Oh boy is Elsa a woman with childhood trauma and has very complex emotions. 

.She was a woman who at first lived the majority of her life in isolation. 

.She continues to do this until her powers are revealed and she feels she has to run and hide. 

.But that did not stop you from helping Anna to find her sister. 

.Elsa never met you until you came to the castle with Anna, not letting one of the princesses go into the mountains alone. 

.Elsa was shocked someone as beautiful as you could care about her in such a way. 

.Almost listening to you when you begged her to come back down and that you would help her. 

.Her fear of hurting her loved ones extended to you as well, as at first, she wanted to love you and be with you. 

.But when she saw you standing next to Anna she realized that she could hurt you as well. 

.This incredible fear she has of hurting you makes her push you away at first. 

.That is right Elsa is the type of yandere that lets her, fears, anxiety, panic, and so much more consume her. 

.She would push you away instead of locking you up because the way she was raised, pushing you her darling away is her showing you that she loves you. 

.That she would do whatever it takes to keep you safe even if that means she is miserable. 

.This does not stay the case as when she saves her sister she realizes love can thaw a frozen heart. 

.And act of true love and that is when she would look at you, this causes her yandere side to really show. 

.That her love for you is the most powerful thing and that she can be with you without hurting you. She now knew this! 

.She of course is still close to her sister and asks her sister about love a lot, trying to understand how she romances you. 

.She knows she cannot marry a person she just met, but oh she wants to marry you really bad. 

.She wants to make you her co-ruler and spouse. 

.She believes you and her would work well together. 

.All in all, Elsa is the type of yandere who is very anxious and feels she might not be good enough for you. 

.She also does not lean on you for support as much as she should. 

.She feels it is her job to make everything perfect for you and to be perfect for you. 

.She feels if she is not able to be that for you that you would not love her. 

.She is also a yandere with many insecurities and would feel that sometimes you would be better with someone other than her. 

.She does not want you to leave her, but she does not want to be the reason she is bringing you down. 

.She is a loyal yandere and would want for no other. 

.She also would be a very protective yandere. 

.In which yes, she does not want to hurt you, but also she will not let anyone hurt you. 

.She would rather die than let anyone hurt you, the love of her life. 

.She also in yandere fashion does become jealous, she knows she is jealous and she knows it is not far to you for her to be jealous. 

.But she cannot help it, she loves you so much and she would be petty and use her powers a bit to mess with rivals. 

.That is right, she would not be the type of yandere to kill a rival, but to make them slip, or freeze their feet to the ground so they cannot come over to you. 

.If they ask why she was doing it she would be honest and say that you are to be her betrothed and as the queen they had no right to have your hand. 

.This would always cause them to back down. 

.Because she is the queen and has actual powers and so no one questions her. 

.Also Elsa is just so nice for the most part that no one would think that she is being malicious if the rival told people about what Elsa was doing. 

.And Although Elsa will not kill rivals, she would harm and maybe even execute the people that hurt you. 

.She did not kill Hans who tried to kill her, but if he had tried to kill or harm you she would have had him executed. 

.You were the one person she loved the most, and she would turn this planet into a ball of ice before she let anyone hurt you. 

.Now comes when she learns she is the fifth spirit. 

.She gives up her crown and asks for you to come live with her in the enchanted forest. 

.This is where she confesses to you and tells you her feelings. 

.If you accept her love you and her would live together in the enchanted forest and you will basically marry her, and since she is like a legit goddess you would have married to a practical Goddess. 

.If you turned her down she would understand, she would be hurt and let you go, and of course, she would never move on from you. 

.She would try and be happy for you when you married someone else. 

.She would watch over you and if whoever you married stepped out of line, she would jump in to save you. 

.All in all, she is one of the best yanderes, but if she does ever snap, boy oh boy you and or the world would be at her mercy. 

.She could easily snap and make you her prisoner, to keep by her side. Yes, this is unlikely to happen but it could still happen. 

.Same for the world, if the world were to take you away from her, she would once again turn this planet into a ball of ice, for what they stole from her. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS finally got this one done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

More on Clover's personality/mbti

this one's shorter don't worry

So, I mentioned before how Clover's creative when it comes to a lot of stuff (more than they are grounded), but there's also the fact they can sing (that's how they spare Insomnitot), dance (not as much into it as Bailador, but they CAN dance), make puns (Gun-hat and how they wanted to make puns in the stable in Wild East; idk the exact line) are into drawing (in Axis' office, you'll get a text saying "You wish you could draw that well..."), video games (with Mew Mew) and they even know how to play the harmonica (from the teaser trailer), plus tend to zone out ↓

They constantly kept choosing kindness over what's right.

Those are PERSONAL values they have, that these monsters deserve forgiveness. I really think the inferior Te clashes with dominant Fi in their case. Clover wants to do what's objectively right and just, but at same time their heart is just too pure. They were able to empathise with everyone and get in everyone's shoes (also affectionate but that's a bonus) ↓

there's no change in their kindness from the beginning to end

Like if they were actually in court I don't think they'd act like a "typical" judge and deliver 100% fair consequences. No, that Fi kindness would ALWAYS win, like it did with Star and Ceroba.

Clover's Fi was always there, but differentiates depending on the route. In pacifist, they decided that everyone, in spite of what they objectively did wrong, should be forgiven and understood. In neutral, they decide whose actions were moral enough to get spared, and whose weren't. In geno, instead of killing five monsters, they wipe out anyone THEY think is in their way.

If they were Ti dominant they'd naturally be a lot more rigid and have/show a lot less empathy, imo. The Te inferior is present in geno bc they think they are dealing with the events in the outside world objectively, but the Fi is still there, that's why they don't stop killing: THEY are the one who thinks it should be this way. Clover wants to influence/control the outer world (Te; they don't spend a lot of time dwelling on their actions, unlike Ti users, Clover's a lot more forceful) based on how they subjectively think things should be (still that Fi except that it manifests differently than in pacifist). Clover as a thinker would naturally be more detached from emotions, but they're... they're not. Even in the beginning.

Inferior Te present their Fi opinions like they are objective Te facts - I found this line and it instantly reminded me of geno Clover. "Yeah, I'm right for killing everyone, even though I'm really not"

Clover becomes like a "manager of justice" when in their dark side. You step outta line, you're dead - that's kinda the "structure" I think we're talking about here. Still values over how logically to assess a situation, though. Ceroba calls them naive.

This means that Clover WANTS.... no, ALWAYS WANTED to approach the "missing children" situation like they're in control, but in reality, they were without a clear plan of what to do and how to do it. That's inferior Te.

On the contrary, in the vengance route, they step into their inferior function and take control... but at what cost.

As for their Si, we have the fact Clover remembers their past home life, remembers cramped living conditions, their responsibilities at home, the TV channel they "watched"...

All this stuff from the past contributed to them leaving for the Underground (aka affected their future). I really really don't think Clover has auxiliary Se. That would mean they're usually present-focused. But no, this kid's thought process feels more complex to me. As explained, Se mostly focuses on what's in front of them; Clover, while in the present, can think of the past (their home life), which then influences their future (jumping down Mt. Ebott). And when in the present, they can think of the far future (dying during their mission and therefore never coming back home or becoming an adult, and in the end the potential freedom of monsterkind) and recall the past vividly (all those things their friends told them throughout their journey)

They don't suspect Flowey's malicious, either. And even if some part of them didnt trust Ceroba, Clover never showed it or said anything out loud (not that i remember), and even if they did, they still chose to spare Axis since he is the only thing left of Chujin. That's naive, maybe. But Clover's REALLY REALLY REALLY sweet.

Speaking of Flowey... remember how he would often encourage Clover and tell them to have more confidence and that they "don't have to be scared" and "lean on him for emotional support" and that they should "have some faith in themselves too"? Yeah, that's the aspect of their personality that they had to work on; becoming the leader they were always meant to be.

Their arc feels like going from a scared kid to a great hero. Aka stepping into that inferior Te... the right way.

[theladyoracle]

I am a BEN Drowned cat ear headphones truther 😤😤😤

I like to imagine BEN sort of like an incel - stays in his bedroom all day, so plugged into the internet but so detached from reality. He really hermits in his bedroom and spends a lot of time online or staring at screens. His backstory in my AU under the cut

In my AU, BEN is more than just a ‘ghost’ or ‘spirit’. His creation was far more complex than just the end of one life, but rather the elaborate creation of something new. The very corruption that was the heinous sacrifice of 12 year old Ben Lawman was enough to manifest the creation of BEN; a haunted video game cartridge, where a vengeful and angry spirit resided. To be clear, once Ben Lawman was sacrificed, the child was dead. Instead, what became of his excess dread, anguish and fear would twist and contort into the hardware of the Majoras Mask cartridge. The unholy deeds of the cult would also contribute to this wicked entities awakening, and in turn create the monster we know as BEN Drowned.

In short, Ben Lawman died. BEN Drowned lived.

In the early stages, BEN was hardly anything substantial. Mostly, the energy was just...angry, frustrated. There was an undertone of violence but...no where to put the energy. BEN hardly had a form at all...merely stealing sprites from Majora's Mask as placeholders for his identity...and cutting up letters and sentences from the games data to write his own means to communicate.

All he knew was a name, BEN, and that something was taken from him.

As Slenderman sees the potential in this…thing, he grants BEN the opportunity to age as if he never died.

He allows BEN to have a physical form, outside of the haunted game cartridge, that is able to age as if he never drowned.

However, this doesn’t come without a couple of conditions or caveats. BEN is undead, and as his soul has combined with the Majora’s Mask cartridge he has some supernatural abilities. Playing off the theme of the Zelda games Majora’s Mask and Ocarina of Time (both in which would come from knowledge carried over from Ben Lawman, and the coding from Majora’s Mask), BEN is able to age and regress as needed - this aids him in luring in different victims and manipulating others.

This shape shifting ability also helps him fit into spaces that he normally wouldn’t be able to get into, and maneuver through different terrains seamlessly. However, he does have a default form that has properly aged with him as if he had never died at the age of 11 years old. This default form takes 0 energy to maintain and is often the most comfortable for him.

[electronickingdomfox]

"Killing Time" review

Novel from 1985, by Della Van Hise. Published right after Ishmael, it involves again time-tampering. Only this time, the villains (here Romulans) are successful in their attempts to rewrite history, so most of the novel is set in an alternate universe. The basic difference is that, in this new universe, the Federation was founded by Vulcans instead of humans, so Spock is the starship captain, while Kirk is a mere Ensign with a troubled past.

The story presents some interesting concepts, like the flow of time and history being somehow ingrained in the very fabric of the universe, so no matter the alterations, it tends to revert to its original course, or rip itself apart (a concept which, in some shape or another, was also present in The Entropy Effect and the previous novel). There's also much discussion about "alternate selves", paths not taken in life, and whether these versions of ourselves still exist somewhere and can be reached through dreams. Sometimes, the "mechanics" of time-alteration are a bit iffy, or poorly explained. For example, it seems very unlikely that people like Uhura or Scotty would have the same exact post in the alternate universe (shouldn't they be replaced by Vulcans?). And since it's explained that travelling at warp drive makes one immune to the time alterations, why aren't more starships (the Enterprise included) spared from the effects? Anyway, this is just to be nitpicky; after all, the story doesn't require much more suspension of disbelief than other TOS novels.

Other than a bit of purple prose here and there, I didn't find the writing bad. And characterization is pretty fine. The portrait of Kirk as a rebellious Ensign is a curious precedent for the 2009 movie Kirk, and his grief is quite moving. Spock and McCoy's interactions are spot-on. And so far, this novel has the best, most complex portrayal of the Romulan Commander (from "The Enterprise Incident"), as a cunning, powerful woman, and yet vulnerable in her love/hate for Spock. It's perhaps the latter who comes off most out-of-character; at times Spock seems a bit too emotional and soft, though not to the point of being unrecognizable.

On the other hand, the structure is a bit clumsy. A good chunk of the book keeps going over and over the effects that history alteration has on the mind, turning people crazy, or inducing dreams about the original reality. Since the Romulan scheme is fully revealed quite early on, these chapters don't have all that much interest: we already know what's happening, we already know why people are having those dreams... (So no, I'm not interested in the content of Ensign Kirk's dreams, since I already know what's there; stop trying to put him in that vid-scan thing, McCoy). However, the plot takes off once the characters finally decide to do something about all this mess, and get involved in further Romulan schemes. The later chapters, thus, are more interesting, and there are some pretty emotive scenes towards the ending.

In conclusion, this isn't one of the best novels, though it has its high points. It would have been rather unremarkable among the long string of TOS novels, were it not for the controversies surrounding its publication. For those, see the "Spirk Meter" at the end.

Spoilers under the cut:

The Enterprise is patrolling the Romulan Neutral Zone, when several crewmembers start experiencing disturbing dreams. A common theme in those, is seeing Spock as the Captain, in a somehow changed Enterprise. While Kirk sees himself as a mere Ensign. There are also some rumors about an experiment going on in the Romulan Empire...

After an abrupt change, the next chapter presents a totally different reality. Kirk is now an Ensign recently assigned to the "VSS ShiKahr", commanded by Spock. Having been in prison for the murder of an Academy teacher (of which he has no recollection), Kirk was subjected to the Talos Device, which left him having frequent nightmares and addicted to drugs. He was given the choice between a rehabilitation colony, or forceful draft into the Fleet. Anyway, he has little interest in serving in a starship, or life in general, since he knows he'll never get his own command due to his past. His life is made even more miserable by his bully roomate Donner. Soon thereafter, strange phenomena are experienced by some crewmembers. Spock gets fleeting glimpses of another reality, that leave him dizzy. And one crewman succumbs to madness, and tries to blow up the entire ship, after sabotaging the matter/antimatter valves. After performing some scans on the insane man, McCoy discovers that his brain has two separate sets of brain waves, as if they belonged to two different persons altogether. Further cases of insanity throughout the galaxy are suspected, when a Vulcan Admiral orders the ShiKahr to invade the Romulan Empire in a suicidal mission. Spock, of course, stalls the order as long as he can.

The narrative changes focus then, to present what's going on in the Romulan ship "Ravon", where Commander Tazol remembers his recent confrontation with her wife Sarela. She was strongly opposed to the Praetor's plans to interfere in Earth's past, and assassinate three key figures in the founding of the Federation, so it never comes to be. Sarela is afraid the plan will be a total failure, like all the other plans of the Praetor to tamper with timelines. Nonetheless, Tazol is a complete blockhead, and proceeds with the plan. The idea is receiving the Praetor aboard (a mysterious, hooded figure that only his close advisors have ever seen face to face), and then enter warp drive to avoid the history-altering effects. That way, everyone aboard the Ravon will keep intact their memories of the so-called First History, along with its records, to later compare them with the situation in the Second History (the altered timeline). It turns out that, as Sarela expected, Second History isn't all it's cracked up to be... The Federation wasn't founded on Earth, true, but in its place, a similar Alliance of planets was started in Vulcan. The Romulan Empire has hardly benefitted from this, and now its enemies are mostly the tough Vulcans, instead of humans. The Praetor orders Sarela to his quarters, for a private discussion of the situation, much to Tazol's chagrin.

Meanwhile in the ShiKahr, McCoy has been performing vid-scans (a kind of visual recording of people's dreams) on several persons. Some of them show dreams of a "golden-haired Captain". While others show disturbing "negative scans". McCoy is a complete genius, because from this flimsy evidence he concludes, correctly, that reality has been shifted. And those that have ended in different positions in life, will become maladjusted to the changes, and eventually turn mad. Also, those showing negative scans now, are persons who are already dead in the original timeline (and this opens up an interesting ethical dilemma when reverting the changes, since it will mean instant death for those persons; sadly, this isn't further explored). For his part, crazy Admiral is still doing his crazy thing, and now orders the ShiKahr on a diplomatic mission, on a planet of savages that weren't expecting diplomats at all. The landing party is attacked, Donner is killed (good for him) and Spock is injured.

Cutting back to the Ravon, Sarela discovers that the Praetor is actually... a woman! Something that's not allowed in the Romulan Empire, thus the need for the permanent hood in public (and it also explains why all the Praetor slaves are now pretty boys...). Automatically, Sarela's respect for the Praetor goes up tenfold (huh, wasn't the Praetor a complete idiot a second ago, with all those stupid plans? The fact she's a woman should change nothing!). Well, as it turns out, the stupid plans weren't hers, but came from her father. She just went ahead with them because it was too late to back out, and also because she still expects some good to come out of it. Thea (the Praetor) explains that she's going to use Spock to sign a peace treaty with the Alliance, and introduce Surak's teachings among Romulans, to further the cause of peace (doesn't sound like a very evil plan, if you ask me). By kidnapping Kirk, she'll blackmail Spock into doing all this, while disguised with the hood as if he were the real Praetor. She still holds a grudge towards Kirk and Spock, since in First History, those two stole a cloaking device from her, revealing thus that she's the Romulan Commander from the series. Thea suspects that the Vulcans will, sooner or later, discover the time tampering and revert it, but some effects of Second History (like the peace treaty) will be indelibly embedded in the universe, anyway. Sarela agrees to help her, specially after she receives her own pretty boy slave.

For his part, Spock instructs Christopher Pike (here still a happy captain of a ship) to stop the crazy Admiral, before he causes all-out war. After this, the ShiKahr intercepts a Romulan shuttle, apparently crippled and adrift, and takes it aboard. The only passengers, apparently, are Thea and Sarela, and they're taken into custody. However, hibernating inside the shuttle, and thus not detected as life forms, were Thea's slaves. They wake up a while later, disguise themselves as Vulcan guards, and order Kirk to the briefing room. Sensing a trap, Kirk attacks them, but the Romulans subdue and kidnap both Kirk and his new roomate: Richardson. They depart in the Ravon, and leave the two hostages stranded in a desolate planet, with just basic survival gear. Spock learns about this too late, so he has no alternative but cooperating with Thea. Secretly, though, he plans to infiltrate the Romulan Empire to get the secret of time travel (unknown to the Alliance), and the details to revert the timeline.

Spock, dressed as the Praetor, McCoy, half-dressed as his...slave, and S'Parva, some kind of dog-girl with telepathic powers, accompany Thea back to the Ravon. Spock, as many other people, is also succumbing to madness, which in his case manifests as pon farr. He covers it up as a simple infection, and requests the medical assistance of slave-McCoy to create a distraction. The moment is seized by S'Parva to get inside the computer system. Later, Spock reviews the data, learning about the slingshot effect to travel through time. Both Spock and S'Parva receive also telepathic transmissions from Kirk and Richardson, respectively (S'Parva having formed previously a mind link with Richardson through an experiment). This way, they learn the location of the hostages. Nonetheless, Spock ends up losing consciousness due to the worsening of his symptons. Thea, who still loves Spock in some way, forms a temporary bond with him, and helps him out of pon farr (that is, they fuck).

Once in the Praetor's palace in Romulus, Thea learns about all the incidents of madness happening in the Empire. And finally, after a lengthy conversation, Spock manages to convince her of the necessity of reversing the changes. If this goes on, soon half the galaxy will be destroyed by madness. Spock regrets that he can't stay with her, as his present persona will disappear along Second History. Nonetheless, he will bring Kirk along to the past, to restore the timeline; that way, both of them will keep some remembrance of this alternate history, and will later use their influence to realize Thea's plans for peace. Thea relents, and after rescuing Kirk and Richardson, they make a slingshot maneuver in the shuttle, arriving in Earth's past. However, Thea leaves them to their own devices from now onwards.

Having arrived in San Francisco a while before the assassination, Kirk, Spock and Richardson enter the conference room, where the three politicians are due to make a speech. Kirk creates a distraction by revealing Spock's alien features to the surprised humans, and this prompts the assassins to reveal themselves. In the commotion, everyone escapes to safety (including the politicians), while Kirk and Spock confront the assassins. These are actually human-looking androids, and after a difficult fight, they destroy them, though Richardson is killed in the process. Then Spock takes out a disruptor to destroy the android remains (his excuse for not using the disruptor earlier being that Kirk needed to reassert himself as Captain by getting into a fist-fight, which is... a bullshit excuse, really). After this, Kirk and Spock (also mortally wounded in the fight) go to the rooftop. And there's a pretty sad scene, where both wait for their current selves to disappear in the reality shift, thus dying in a sense.

Everything is back to normal, though Kirk, Spock and Richardson keep having dreams about their alternate lives. Kirk also finds a ring that belonged to his other self, and reflects with melancholy about the fate of "Ensign Kirk". After a mind-meld with Spock, both of them get a clearer view about the events of Second History, and decide to cooperate with Thea to achieve peace. In the end, Kirk leaves the ring behind, knowing it will disappear and return to its real owner, somewhere.

Spirk Meter: 10/10*. Now, this novel is generally regarded as the K/S novel par excellence. Is it very slashy? Yes. But is it something completely in a different league? Well, no. Most of the Marshak & Culbreath novels are as slashy as this one (and The Price of the Phoenix definitely more). Hell, a good deal of this stuff is just taken from TOS episodes, and while in "Amok Time" Spock got out of pon farr by rolling around with Kirk, here he uses the more conservative approach of sex with a woman (and Kirk is totally okay with that, not showing the slightest jealousy). I suspect that most of this fame is simply due to the novel's publication history, and not to the actual content. I've encountered two versions of this incident. The most popular one tells of readers being so scandalized by the novel's first edition, that some higher-up (even Roddenberry himself) had to intervene, and censor the novel for subsequent printings. Della Van Hise's version (presented in several fanzine articles, that you can read in sites like Fanlore) tells a much less exciting story: Basically, the editor made some cuts here and there, she approved of the changes, and then sent the novel for printing. There was an error, and the unedited version was printed instead. When the publishing house noticed it, they corrected the mistake in the second edition, which was the one supposed to see the light from the beginning. In my opinion, Van Hise's version sounds more realistic. I have difficulty believing that the same public who received Triangle a couple years before without batting an eyelid, would start a riot for this. Let alone that Gene-t'hy'la-means-lover-Roddenberry would give two shits about it (was he even that involved in the franchise by 1985?). Apart from this, the edits seem very cursorily: a slight toning-down of some affectionate scenes, cutting curse words here and there, removal of partial nudity (even in medical settings that have absolutely nothing to do with K/S), etc. They really don't look like the kind of heavy censorship of someone set against K/S after a scandal.

Now, for the slash elements (I read the first edition, so this is based on that version): Kirk and Spock are quite affectionate, often reassuring each other with a touch on the shoulder or the hand, or confiding things that they wouldn't trust to anybody else. The mental link between them (which is a staple in many novels and comics, and thus not that remarkable) is given, however, a special relevance, with them often using it to transmit warm feelings, and even communicating over great distances. The link is so strong, that some effects of Spock's pon farr start affecting Kirk. And when the reality first shifts into the alternate universe, Kirk experiences great anguish, upon feeling the link broken. It's also noteworthy that other characters that share this kind of link (Spock and Thea; Richardson and S'Parva) are in romantic relationships of sorts. Apart from the permanent link, Spock performs several mind-melds with Kirk. The first time, when he finds the Ensign sleeping in the garden and suffering nightmares, he attempts a meld to soothe his mind (similar to "Requiem for Methuselah") but Kirk rejects it. Spock, who's already starting to go crazy, attacks Jim then, and forces a mind-meld with him. The fight and Kirk's submission are vaguely homoerotic, and this was by far the most censored passage in the book. The second meld happens when they're both waiting for "death", Spock resting his head on Kirk's shoulder, and the Vulcan uses it to bring Kirk to the other reality along him. The third meld was already covered in the plot summary. Apart from this, when Spock receives glimpses of his previous life, he misses a companion by his side, once wondering if the man he sees there is his t'hy'la. And when Kirk visits his quarters at night to get his medication, Spock interviews him while still shirtless, and understands that he can't keep secrets from him. But perhaps the most blatant examples aren't what Kirk and Spock actually do, but what other characters think about them. Thea is unreasonably jealous of Kirk, and kidnaps him with the belief that Spock will do anything to rescue him, since he's his treasured human and dearest to him in all the combined universes. Actually, this isn't the real reason why Spock complies with Thea, but he agrees with her assessment that "James Kirk is even deeper in your blood than Vulcan". Richardson, as well, has the impression that Kirk and Spock belong together in any universe.

Although this is definitely a K/S novel, there's also a bit of Spones, and it's kind of hilarious that it went totally unnoticed by censors, considering the sexual element is more blatant, compared with the rather spiritual relationship of Kirk and Spock. For starters, when Kirk is first having dreams about Spock as a Captain, McCoy dismisses it as just a typical fantasy of wanting to be under Spock's authority (which totally seems like McCoy projecting there, since that's not the real cause at all). Once Spock gets the first symptoms of pon farr, McCoy is very stubborn about going with him to Romulus to treat his illness, even if he has to be his slave to do so (and as previously seen, those slaves are also the Praetor's lovers). And when Spock gets worse, McCoy confronts him about being so proud and rejecting something that should be pleasurable, pointing out that many people would want to sleep with him... while blushing himself. Finally, McCoy refuses to leave Thea alone with Spock to do her thing, and has to be brought out basically by force (like, what was his alternate plan?). It doesn't help either that McCoy is said to care for Spock more than professional ethics should have permitted.

Also incredibly explicit is Kirk's relationship with Richardson. Kirk comes out from the shower totally naked in front of him. And later they both swim naked in a pond, while Kirk experiences the heat of pon farr through his link. Not enough? Well, Richardson often calls Jim "Juliet", while Kirk calls him "Romeo". Yup.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[jahayla-parker]

Black & White : Peter Paker x Reader Series

Part 1

For full warnings, descriptions, and other parts, see series masterlist here.

Y/n bit her lip as she heard his creaky apartment door close as she locked hers.

It had been your cliche “meet-cute”; she’d literally ran into him while she was sorting through the pile of lecture notes in her hands. Keeping with the cliche, the papers had fallen to the floor and she apologized for crashing into him as she clumsily tried to quickly pick up each document. He’d been very understanding about it and even helped her gather the array of papers. But that’s where the cliche ended. Instead of the interaction sparking a relationship or even friendship, it merely ended as soon as she’d collected her belongings. So while it began as what seemed to be a meet-cute-like situation, in reality it was merely an awkward interaction between y/n and her neighbor.

Since that day, y/n had tried to make it up to him. While she knew what happened wasn’t a big deal, she also had never cared for the idea of people disliking her. She hoped she could at least be friendlier with him. They were neighbors after all. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly. But, it just seemed like every interaction had this cloud of awkward tension surrounding it. She wasn’t sure what was causing it. It’s not like she was trying to get super close to him, but at this point she didn’t even know his name despite them having had a handful of interactions and only living a few doors apart. And for someone like, y/n that felt strange. Especially because she sensed this neighbor of hers was uncertain of how he felt about her presence. Which only fueled her phoenix-like optimism and drove her to want to fix whatever it was that made him feel so tense and uncertain around her. She didn’t want her mere presence to cause anyone such discomfort.

Y/n smiled softly at him in greeting as they both turned away from their respective doorways. Their eyes met and he gave her a timid smile before he looked away. But y/n saw the way he tensed before doing so. She sighed quietly to herself as she began walking down the hallway to the staircase.

Peter saw the way his neighbor -the really pretty one who just so happened to live directly across from him in this rundown apartment complex- frowned faintly as she made her way to the stairs. “Uhh,” he mumbled nervously, uncertain if it was his place to even say anything. After all, he hadn’t even asked her name yet. He’d only interacted a few times; all of which he was an awkward mess during.

Peter still felt it wasn’t a good idea to let himself get close to her. But, he also couldn’t stand the way the frown on her lips felt so out of place. She had always seemed so positive and optimistic, even on days where she came home in her work clothes at an extremely late hour and barely staying awake. She always greeted him with a friendly smile, one that always made the days they ran into each other so much brighter than the rest of his days. So the uncharacteristic frown on her face tugged at Peter’s heart.

When the girl’s eyes flickered up from the grungy floor to meet his, Peter gave her a sympathetic smile. “Are.. it’s probably not my place,” he confessed in a hushed voice. “But, is everything okay?”

Y/n tried to hide her surprise over the fact her stranger of a neighbor was making conversation. It was small talk, but still. It was more than she’d gotten out of him so far. And that made her smile return. “Y-yeah,” she mumbled with a breathy laugh. “Thanks for asking though… uhh…”.

“Peter,” Peter introduced, holding his hand out towards his neighbor. He took a stabilizing breath as her warm and delicate hand grabbed his.

“Thanks, Peter,” y/n grinned as she shook his hand.

Peter’s face flushed as he listened to her say his name. The sweet smile she wore while repeating his name aloud caused a bashful expression to form on his face.

“I’m y/n,” y/n introduced with a giggle. Her words were coming out a bit childishly due to her being caught off guard by his Peter’s unexpected striking up of a conversation this morning. “By the way,” she added anxiously as her hand returned to her side.

Peter gave y/n what he was sure was a far too wide grin. “Nice to meet you,” he whispered shyly as he held the dingy door to the staircase open for her.

“You too,” y/n whispered back before adding a quiet thank you for him having held the door. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket just as she started down the stairs. Her eyes went wide as she saw the text from her classmate asking if she’d picked up the Scranton sheets for their upcoming test today. Shit. She meant to do that last night after work, but she’d gotten off far too late and had been too tired to even remember that intention. She would need to rush to campus to make it to the college bookstore in time to buy the answer form for the test before making it to class. “Sorry, I gotta go,” y/n said in order to quickly explain why she was about to bolt down the stairs.

Peter tried not to laugh as he watched y/n suddenly sprint down the staircase, taking it two steps at a time. The senses that came with his abilities told him nothing was wrong, at least not in any way that he would need to be worried about. So, he let himself smile as he watched her burst of energy propel her clumsily through their crooked stairwell and out the door.

Peter groaned as he closed his GED program textbook and slid it across his small mattress. He’d been staring at the fine print for hours and desperately needed a break. While the material wasn’t difficult for him given he’d already learned most of it, he always focused deeply when studying. Fortunately by now, having nearly a year to work through it, his frustration over having to even do all of this to be done with high school had passed. He accepted that having to make everyone forget he existed understandably meant that they also had to forget his academic accomplishments as well. Nonetheless, he found himself extremely drained tonight. Peter had gone on patrol late the night before and into the early morning, only to then rush to work for his shift, and was just now finishing his nightly study session. He’d hardly had time to rest, much less eat or do something enjoyable.

After finding nothing edible in his barely functioning refrigerator, Peter figured he should at least head to the 24 hour bodega down the street and grab something to eat. He quickly threw on his navy blue hoodie and tied his converse; suddenly noticing his intense hunger. As he stepped into the hall to lock his door, he heard movement down the hallway. It was pretty late, it was reasonable to expect that most people would be asleep by now, so it naturally set him on edge. Peter had moved into a rundown apartment building in a not-so-great neighborhood due to his limited financial resources. Which meant he didn’t often have to go far to find trouble to fix during his patrols. But, he’ had yet to encounter anything like that in his own building so far. Peter begrudgingly turned to see who was behind the audible footsteps he heard, not in the mood to have to do his vigilante duties right now.

Fortunately, Peter realized it was his neighbor, y/n. She was wearing what he’d put together by now to be her work clothes. She had her keys clutched tightly in one hand, the tips of them sticking outwards from her palm defensively. Peter knew she was often having to work late, but this was far later than he’d ever noticed before. When y/n looked up and saw Peter, she smiled over at him. Peter noticed the way her grip on her keys lessened upon seeing him, making his heart flutter as he resisted a prideful smile.

“It’s really late,” Peter commented as he neared y/n. He noticed the way her eyes looked tired; she likely had a long day too.

Y/n giggled and bit her lip. “I know,” she nodded with a small smile.

Peter blushed at how obvious his comment was. He shook his head softly with a timid smile. “I… umm… I meant that… it’s not umm really safe out this late,” he rambled.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at Peter’s apparent concern. “I know, but I had to stay late at work,” she shrugged. “Besides, is it ever really?” She joked lightheartedly.

Peter gave a disappointed laugh; she wasn’t wrong.

“Plus, I’m coming home, whereas, you,” y/n added teasingly as she waved at Peter’s body, “seem to be just heading out”.

Peter chuckled and nodded. “Fair point,” he agreed.

“Where are you headed so late?” Y/n asked.

Peter blushed as he tried to find a way to explain why he had not eaten yet that didn’t sound so suspicious. “I umm… I’m hungry,” he simplified with a shy shrug.

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly before they narrowed as she squinted at Peter in an attempt to see his eyes in the dark hallway. “Ohh,” she mumbled, “munchies?”

Peter quickly shook his head. “No, no, I don’t.. I don’t uhhh, no,” he mumbled. “I just had been studying and forgot to eat,” Peter explained, leaving out the part where he actually hadn’t eaten all day due to his various responsibilities.

Y/n frowned slightly as a look of concern took over her face. “It’s really late to not have eaten,” she remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done that too, but still,” she giggled and shook her head.

Peter nodded bashfully. “Yeah, so uh, I was gonna hit the bodega on the corner, and-,” he explained.

Y/n shook her head. “So that you can get mugged, or best case scenario, end up with food poisoning?” She teased. “Come on,” y/n instructed as she neared her door, “I’m sure I’ve got something much safer in my fridge”.

“Oh, you uh,” Peter blushed, “you don’t have to do that”.

Y/n nodded and smiled back at him. “I know, now come on,” she ordered lightly as she began unlocking her door.

“Did you make this?” Peter asked as he took another bite of the pasta.

Y/n nodded with a smile as she finished putting away her belongings she’d gotten out during the day. “It’s.. it was my mom’s recipe,” she admitted, fiddling with her necklace before she turned back to face Peter. “Is it warm enough? My microwave sucks,” y/n laughed.

Peter chuckled and nodded as he swallowed another bite. “It is, thank you again,” he commented. “It’s really good,” he grinned as he went in for more.

“I’m glad,” y/n hummed. “Do you mind if I take this half of the table?” She asked as she gazed at her microscopic sized leaflet table, the only table she managed to make fit in her cramped apartment.

Peter shook his head. “No, course not,” he replied swiftly. “Besides, it’s your apartment,” he smiled.

Y/n giggled and nodded as she walked over and set her notebook and one of her textbooks down on her half of the table. “Still, I know you were studying already, so you’re probably tired of looking at textbooks,” she explained.

“It’s fine,” Peter asssured. “Besides, that looks far more interesting than what I’ve been studying,” he admitted with a slightly jealous pout.

Y/n looked up at Peter as she opened her textbook to the bookmarked page. “Oh?” She questioned. “What is it that you’re learning?”

Peter felt his face flush and he looked away. “I am uhh, studying to get my GED,” he confessed quietly. When he noticed there was no awkward pause before y/n’s response, he gazed up and noticed she didn’t seem fazed by it.

“How close are you?” Y/n questioned, confused by the surprised look on Peter’s face.

“Uhh,” Peter mumbled. He shook his head as he worked to accept y/n’s simple acceptance and lack of judgment. “I should be able to take the test in another month or so,” he answered.

Y/n smiled warmly at him before looking down as she opened her notebook. “That’s exciting,” she hummed, “any plans after that?”

Peter nodded before realizing y/n was still looking down as she searched for a certain page in her notebook. “Yeah, I’m hoping to attend y/c/c after, I’ve been in touch with an admissions counselor,” he rambled shyly.

Y/n smiled and glanced up at Peter. “Really?” She asked. “That’s where I go,” she added, her smile growing.

Peter blushed and smiled back. He didn’t know how to express his excitement over his realization he’d be knowing someone he’d hopefully soon be attending school with while also not letting himself get too attached to someone again. So, Peter opted for a slight change in topic. “What are you studying?” He asked. The textbook in front of her was for y/f/s, but he didn’t know if that’s what her major was.

“I’m starting with getting my associate’s” y/n explained. She shrugged her shoulders briefly as she nervously added, “I would like to go past that, if I can still make that work financially”.

Peter nodded his head in understanding. “Is that why you work so late?” He wondered.

Y/n nodded. But despite the unfortunate circumstances being discussed, she still gave a timid smile. “Sometimes my class schedule makes it so I have to do the evening shifts at work, or the late night to early morning ones,” y/n acknowledged. Her timid smile grew as she remembered her optimistic outlook. “But, it’s worth it, I’m able to attend school, so ya know, gotta do what you gotta do,” y/n laughed timidly.

Peter laughed warmly in response and nodded. “You work at a diner right?” He asked, looking at her clothes for reference.

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, Gino’s,” she answered.

“Do you like it there?” Peter wondered.

Y/n smiled lightly at Peter’s interest. “It pays…, well it pays enough for me to be able to get this apartment,” she giggled. “And, they help with my schooling a bit, plus then owner works with my schedule, which I really appreciate. That’s more than most can say,” she admitted optimistically.

Peter nodded in understanding.

“Now,” y/n began softly. “I’ve not seen you in any work uniform, presumably because it’s in that backpack you tend to carry everywhere,” she observantly commented. “But, I surmise you work as well?”

Peter blushed and nodded shyly. “Yeah, I work at Joe’s Pizza,” he answered. “The one on Bleecker. Helps cover my rent costs,” he shrugged.

“Peter, can I ask you something?” Y/n asked randomly as Peter was examining her textbook after having finished the dinner she gave him.

“Yes,” Peter nodded. “Of course,” he said.

Y/n bit into her lip, nervous to say what was on her mind. “I actually, before tonight,” she clarified. “I thought you hated me, err or well,-“.

“Hated you?” Peter asked, unintentionally cutting y/n off due to his surprise. “You thought I hated you?” He repeated apologetically.

“Err… well, maybe not hate,” y/n tried to soften. “But… that you didn’t want to be around me,” she reworded.

Peter noted y/n’s attempts to make him feel better about her comment. But, it only made him feel even guiltier for having made someone so caring feel as if he disliked her. “Why did you think that?” He pressed softly, wanting to ensure it didn’t happen again.

“Well, it seemed like you weren’t too sure about me when we’d run into each other,” y/n began with a dismissive shrug. “Which I get, being strangers and all,” she rushed out. “But… it’s hard to explain.., it just seemed like you wanted to keep away from me. Like you wanted to keep your distance,” y/n concluded with another shrug.

Peter sighed and frowned as he stared down at his lap in guilt.

“So,” y/n whispered. “If I pushed you tonight,-“ she began.

“No!” Peter gushed as he vehemently shook his head. “No, you didn’t pressure me,” he reassured y/n. “I really appreciate the offer, and the amazing meal”. Peter swallowed thickly as he tried to think of a way to explain himself. “I…”

“You don’t owe me anything, Peter, I just..” y/n shrugged again. “It felt weird keeping that worry to myself, so I wanted to make sure,” she explained.

Peter nodded with a sympathetic smile. “I’m glad you said something,” he promised tenderly. “But no, I never hated you.”

Y/n nodded, but Peter sensed her lingering doubt. So he elected to explain his loss in a general sense. “I’m sorry it came across that way, I’ve just… I’ve let people get close and it didn’t end well…,” he muttered defeatedly.

“I’m sorry to hear that Peter,” y/n acknowledged. “But I think if you look back… you’ll maybe find it was still worth being close to them though?”

Peter nodded slowly, y/n’s ever present optimism ringing true.

“That is, if you’re not tired of pizza,” y/n laughed nervously upon realizing Peter might not be in the mood for the particular dinner she suggested after having worked at a pizzeria all day. As her feet scuffled bashfully against the dirty flooring in the hallway, she heard Peter’s soft chuckle.

“No, no,” Peter reassured y/n quickly. “Pizza is amazing,” he said, prompting a deep blush to take over his face. He laughed at himself and shook his head. “I eerrr, I meant, pizza would be amazing,” Peter rambled, looking up from his converse as he bit his lip.

Y/n smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay, um, come on in,” she whispered as she unlocked her apartment door. “I’ll call it in and pick it up when it’s ready, if you want to choose what movie to watch,” she offered as she discarded her bag on the hook by her door.

“You just got home, and it’s late,” Peter pointed out, spinning around to face y/n. “I’ll grab it when it’s ready,” he offered with a polite smile.

“Are you sure? You’re my guest, and-“ y/n argued lightly.

Peter chuckled. “We’re friends, I’m not a guest,” he teased. “Besides, it’s too late for you to go out alone”.

“But it’s fine for you?” Y/n questioned.

Peter nodded, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry”. He gave y/n a reassuring smile and a light shrug when she looked at him warily.

Once the order was ready, Peter had quickly left to go pick it up. While it wasn’t that far away from their apartment building, y/n was still surprised at how soon she heard a knock at her door.

Peter wiped his hand on the inside of his coat sleeve as he balanced the pizza boxes against the wall, erasing any sign of the webs he’d used in between the boxes to keep them steady as he had rushed back to y/n’s apartment. Once he was certain he’d gotten any webs off the bottoms of the boxes, he tapped her door with his foot.

After looking through the small glass hole in it to ensure it was Peter, Y/n quickly opened her front door. She smiled warmly but gave him a teasing glance. “So, if you’re not my guest, why are you knocking?” She taunted playfully as she stepped to the side so Peter could enter.

Peter chuckled and shook his head at y/n’s joke. “My hands were full,” he defended with a content smile.

“Mmhm,” Y/n laughed as she locked the door and followed Peter over to the coffee table.

Peter set the boxes down on the auburn table, the corner of the larger box nearly hitting a small box labeled as ‘Christmas decorations’ that was sitting near the edge. It took him by slight surprise. Granted, it being near the holidays was what had initiated their hang out tonight. Although, to be honest, Peter was looking for a reason to come over or to invite y/n over anyways. But, when he ran into her in the hallway, it was clear that they were both struggling a bit with the holidays. He didn’t know much about her family yet. In his defense, any time Peter had asked, y/n just offered him a timid smile before she changed the topic. Peter never pushed it. However, he couldn’t help but let his eyes peek inside tiny box that was sitting partially open beside their dinner. “Are these family heirlooms?” Peter asked tenderly as he caught sight of what seemed to be a hand painted Santa decoration.

“Are what-?” Y/n called out cluelessly as she walked over to join Peter. Upon seeing what Peter was staring at, she bit her lip. “Oh, yeah,” she sighed warmly. “Uh, yeah, they are,” she nodded with a nostalgic smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled for some reason as she shook her head and went to fluff the pillows on her futon, “It’s all I have that is Christmassy”.

Peter shook his head as he lifted his gaze up and over towards y/n. “There is no reason to apologize,” he smiled politely as he began to plate the pizza on the disposable plates she’d set beside him. “I was just noticing that you didn’t have them out yet,” he said, treading lightly. While Peter could tell the holidays were hard for y/n, he didn’t want to push too far. He needed company tonight, and while he was fearful of continuing to get closer to Y/n, he could see she had needed the company too. So, while he wanted to help her through whatever it was about the holiday that was troubling her, he didn’t want to get them into a place where she’d have to rely on him for support because he couldn’t handle not being able to give that to her. Plus, he admittedly needed her presence tonight and didn’t want her to shut down on him.

“Got a late start decorating, didn’t really have a reason to,” y/n said. However, her slightly sad comment didn’t ring in the air long. “But, I figured it’s still nice to decorate for yourself too, just haven’t gotten to it yet,” she shrugged with a timid smile. “Anyways, did you decide on a movie?”

Peter sensed there was more to it. But, this was the kind of answer he wanted, right? One that let him offer her some light comfort without getting to know her too well or building too deep of a connection between them. Right? Peter shook his head. “Oh, uhh, you pick,” he smiled as he sat down on the left side of the leather futon.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes. She blindly grabbed the DVD case that was on the top of the pile Peter had been looking at when she was ordering their dinner. She quickly put in the movie before sitting beside him, their plates resting in between them. She tugged the blanket off the back of her futon and wrapped it around her, earning a chuckle from Peter as she buried herself under it.

Y/n hesitantly knocked on Peter’s door. Sure, he had invited her over via text, but given it was Valentine’s Day, it still felt weird to be knocking on his door. Plus, it was the first time she had been invited over to his apartment instead of them hanging out at hers. However, y/n’s hesitation resolved as soon as Peter opened his door with a friendly smile and welcomed her in.

“So this is it,” Peter chuckled nervously. He tried to ignore the self conscious butterflies suddenly in his stomach as he waved his hand around his apartment. His nerves eased and he even found himself smiling when y/n giggled at his joke with a delicate smile. Nevertheless, he silently watched as she looked around the room, taking it all in.

“Is that-?” Y/n began as she made her way towards the back half of the apartment. Only, she paused as she realized she didn’t have Peter’s explicit permission to move further inside. Before she could even turn around to ask him, Peter seemed to catch on to her worry.

“You can look around,” Peter reassured y/n with a warm chuckle.

“Thanks!” Y/n replied gleefully. She approached Peter’s desk, where his GED study guides were. But, it was actually what was next to the books that truly caught her attention. Sitting at the edge of his desk was a sewing machine. “You sew?!” She asked curiously as her fingers trailed over the smooth surface of the top piece.

Peter felt his cheeks flush and he nodded, only to realize y/n couldn’t see him. “Uhh.. yeah.., my aunt taught me,” he mumbled shyly.

“That’s really cool!” Y/n exclaimed, glancing back over her shoulder to grin at Peter. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to sew,” she commented lightly as she continued to look at the miscellaneous items on his desk. “Did you make your outfit for this dance?” She questioned, lifting up a photograph of what seemed to be Peter and likely some friends at a high school dance.

“Huh?” Peter asked, glancing up from where his bashful eyes had been looking. “Oh!” He swallowed thickly as he noticed what photo y/n was holding. Peter quickly shook his head, “I don’t sew anything to that level, no”.

Y/n smiled and nodded. She shrugged, “well you look adorable”. She giggled at the fact her comment made the red of Peter’s cheeks darken. “Who are these two?” She wondered, her pointer finger resting next to the unidentified people in the photo.

Peter bit his lip as he slowly walked over to y/n. “They uhh..,” he licked his lips nervously as he composed himself. “They were some really great friends”. Peter cautiously took the photograph back from y/n.

“Did you all grow apart?” Y/n asked softly. She hesitated to ask, but she was curious. Plus, she sensed Peter had gone through a lot and that talking about it might help.

Peter sighed and nodded. “Something like that,” he lied. Although, was it a lie? Peter still hadn’t found the right words to use to explain his predicament without having to put whoever he told in danger by association. He didn’t care to lie, much less to y/n; who against Peter’s better judgment he’d begun to allow to fill the role of his friend. But, he couldn’t risk her safety by telling her the full story either. It wouldn’t be fair to y/n when all she tried to do was be there for him. “We lost touch,” Peter stated vaguely. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek in response to the surge of guilt he felt over having lied; again. “Why don’t I start the popcorn? Make yourself comfortable,” he offered as he set the photo aside in attempt to change the subject.

“Pllleaaase,” y/n begged, “for meeee?” She batted her eyelashes pitifully at Peter. She had to resist smirking as she saw his resistance diminish over her actions.

“You really think we need a caffeine break that badly?” Peter chuckled as he checked the time on his phone. “It’s nearly ten!”

“If you expect me to not fall asleep on your couch tonight while waiting to grade your practice test, I’m going to need some coffee!” Y/n defended as she uncrossed her legs and scooted off his bed.

Peter laughed and nodded in acceptance as he bent down to put his shoes on. He mentally scolded his inability to deny y/n. It was something he’d caught onto doing awhile back, but it was especially difficult whenever she gave him that look. He knew the implications of all of this, and it was eating at him. His mind and his heart were at war with the other. It wasn’t as easy to keep things black and white the way he’d intended.

Peter hadn’t paid much attention to where they were walking; y/n having told him she knew which coffee shop she wanted to go to. Instead, given how late it was, he’d stayed close to her side as they walked. His body was positioned between her and the street as he scanned for any potential threats. Peter tried to ignore the twinge of pride as y/n gleefully walked without the concern he knew she normally had when out at night.

It wasn’t until Peter and y/n were standing directly in front of the cafe’s doors that he realized why the street had seemed so familiar. His eyes looked up at the sign as he heard the noise of the bells hanging on the door and noticed it was there MJ used to work. Where he’d last seen MJ and Ned. He felt his body freeze as he tried to keep his composure. He could do this. MJ likely didn’t work here anymore. Meaning neither she nor Ned would be here. It was just another coffee shop, he-

“Peter?” Y/n questioned as she watched Peter pause in the doorway.

Y/n’s gentle voice brought Peter back to the present moment. He gave her a shaky smile as he composed himself. Peter walked in and stood silently beside y/n as she ordered them coffee. Despite knowing that his former friends should be off at MIT, he couldn’t help but feel hit by flashbacks.

Peter knew he was acting off, so as they walked back, he intentionally kept his lips on the rim of his cup. He hoped y/n would interpret it as him simply enjoying his drink. He also hoped it would keep her from worrying over his change in demeanor. Peter was so focused on trying to act normal that when y/n whispered “it’s good, huh?”, he merely nodded against the cup.

As they returned back to their hallway, Peter suggested that she should actually turn in for the night as it was late. Y/n laughed faintly. “That’s why we got the coffee,” she pointed out.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, but uh…” he mumbled. “There’s a study that says pushing yourself to stay up to study actually worsens test scores,” Peter rambled as his thumb nervously picked at the paper material of his coffee cup.

“Oh.” Y/n nodded quickly, her teeth grinding together in embarrassment as her eyes flickered away from Peter’s typically knowing gaze. “Okay.” She took a deep breath and optimistically asked, “we’ll pick this up another night then?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. Without looking up at y/n he nodded once. “Yeah,” he whispered.

Y/n swallowed the bile rising in her throat over Peter’s sudden lack of interest. Maybe she’d been too optimistic and read this friendship wrong? She tried to keep her voice steady as she pulled her keys from her pocket and said goodnight.

Peter sighed as he rested his head against his door. He knew his actions had already caused a bit of distance between them. But, that was the goal. That’s what he needed to do. Right? Peter had been too optimistic lately and had been blinded by the possibilities he saw with y/n. But, he had to be realistic. He needed to keep y/n safe. She had no idea what she was getting into by even just being friends with him. Not to mention, Peter knew he undoubtedly had started to have feelings for her at some point between their first interaction and now. It happened to casually and effortlessly that he almost didn’t notice the difference. But that only meant he would be an even bigger risk to y/n’s safety. Tonight reminded him of just what could happen to her if things kept going this way. And Peter refused to have y/n end up like MJ or May. He couldn’t lose her. She could be in his life without harm, so long as she wasn’t truly close to him. So, he had to at least increase the distance between them; they couldn’t continue to be as close as they’d gotten lately. But, that didn’t stop Peter from being able to feel the aching pain that started in his chest when the saddened look took over y/n’s eyes tonight. Nor the way he wished he could undo the damage he’d made tonight and instead just hold her and apologize. But that was yet another one of Peter’s illogical wishes for his relationship with y/n that he knew could never be.

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[thirdmagic]

the thing is that like. queer rights shouldnt even be the hot topic that they are in any of these discussions, because they are rarely ever relevant in the context they are brought up in. as far as social issues go we all live in glass houses no matter which culture we're from. not a single one of our societies, that any of us live in, has solved the issue of homophobia, or sexism, or any discrimination. none. none of us get to tell the other 'your society is worse than mine' and have that be anything but condescending posturing. absolutely none.

and no, there is not a single person who deserves death or is culpable for the crimes of their society just by virtue of being born in it. i should hope that goes without saying but the past month and a half have proven otherwise. every single innocent person deserves to be free of the horrible cycle of violence we're caught in. no state crimes, no amount of human rights violations, make the death of unrelated innocents justifiable, in any context, and i mean in any context.

but do you know why this gets brought up. because of you fucking westerners who keep projecting this idea that israel embodies every single colonialist evil you can think of, but it's the colonialist evils of your countries and your societies that you have guilt about, that you are familiar with personally. and you project every single social cause that you personally are invested in onto the palestinian cause instead of listening to them, instead of actually trying to understand what work is required to actually help them and what they actually need, because you project this idea of the socialist queer liberators that you want to be onto every single movement that is remotely anti-western or anti-american. and it's honestly really embarrassing but also shows your ignorance about those societies.

and i frankly think that bringing up homophobia in either gaza or the west bank (for purposes that aren't raising awareness, which, it usually isn't) as a gotcha is both extremely tasteless and totally irrelevant most of the time and just serves to delay the conversation and also, again, is not a judgement any of us from the outside get to make, and doesn't make their deaths any less tragic or any more deserved. and i would say the same about the homophobia in israeli society that i am well familiar with, as a queer person who lives here and is stuck in the more conservative parts of the country. but it gets brought up as a counter to the false narrative coming from westerners and constantly spread around- this narrative that this is a fight between one society that's a perfect haven of queer liberation and one society that is nothing but homophobic evils, and that the society that's full of homophobic evils has no innocents in it. because it is not true. not for any of us.

we are not a cartoon bad kingdom and a cartoon good kingdom. we are two equally complex, versatile societies with their own complex histories and things to work through, and your dichotomic thinking simply cannot seem to process this idea. that's why the arguments on queer rights in either of these countries get drawn in. to point out what what you are presenting simply is not factually true and is a simplification of a much more complex reality, which is kind of the pattern in this discourse in general.

i just don't think it's an argument worth having because it's besides the point in the first place, and the point is that none of us deserve violence, none of us deserve to die, and none of us are culpable for the governments playing power games between each other at our expense.