#just cause of their lack of healthy tan

[i23432i]

Phrases I thought where ways to describe POCs that apparently aren't?? for some reason???:

Tall, Dark, and Handsome: genuinely thought this was about tall black men and would consistently be enraged when someone described as this would be drawn as a white guy

Almond Eyes: I thought this was a way to describe (specially Chinese) Asians, since in older Chinese art their eyes where always the shape of almonds. less filled with rage, more confused why some random white person is in place of mx. almond eyes

Button Nose: I thought this meant having a larger, rounder nose (a common trait in black communities) and genuinely would get upset when someone is giving themselves a "button nose" and then literally just making it disappear into the shadow relm

Bushy Haired: I feel this this is sort of self-explanatory, I just thought all those "bushy haired" girls in books where just black and either a) couldn't be bothered to put it into a braided style (from what I know those take fucking hours, so all power to ya girls) or b) where letting their natural hair breathe (cause, again from what I know, that's pretty important to hair health)

Tanned: I have no excuse for this one, really. I grew up in a predominantly Mexican area, and there you where either Latino or paler than paper and turn lobster red in the sun. so, therefore, tanned = latin-american of some kind

Needless to say, I did not understand why POCs where upset about lack in representation until much later in life

[girlbossagenda]

HOW TO HAVE YOUR SUMMER REVENGE GLOW UP

Summer break it's here! A lot of us have grown out of shape due to all the stress caused from school, and the lack or time to exercise or live a more healthy lifestyle, are you scared to go to the beach because you feel like you don't have that beach body? Are you heart broken and just want to live your hot girl summer or perhaps you want to finally be confident your body and change your entire life? If so this is the maxi guide for you.

౨ৎHow to get started౨ৎ

I made this google doc where I explain things more in depth here you can find, how to glow up: physically, mentally and socially(friends, summer filings, popularity etc...) if you want to know how to archive your results, you can find my explanation in depth(also winter friendly)

Here -> THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY: HOW TO REVENGE GLOW UP

Do you remember those girl on YouTube, IG and tumblr?The pretty ones that were living their best summer? Wanna be like them? Then think and plan a summer in the same way a girl with your dream summer would do!

୨୧Make a pre-summer status୨୧

We will use this to track what changed about out life during this summer, I know it might be stressful or embarassing at first, but you're going to be grateful knowing all the progress that you made

୨୧Work on your mindset୨୧

This is so important, read again point n°1, and then put yourself in the shows of the person that you want to become, for example:

-> you want to be a pretty popular girl? "Would the pretty popular girl say that her Summer is ruined and that she has no one to hangout with"? I don't think so.

౨ৎHOW TO GLOW UP PHYSICALLY౨ৎ

if you're interested just in the physical stuff this is the section for you(more in depth in the Google doc)

You need to understand that most of the time a summer glow up last up until the first week of school then it's gone, but you want it to last, right? Here's how:

୨୧Find a low effort beauty routine୨୧

During summer you have all the time to maintain a beauty regiment, but you also need to make it practical, for example you might keep your hair natural during summer, you need to simplify them -> extensions, braids, sew in, silk presses or clip in...

୨୧Change hair color୨୧

During summer you need to grab attention change hair color to blonde, red, or more funky colors like blue, pink etc...

୨୧Diet୨୧

I know, it's hard, with all the ice cream around, but you can also try by drinking healthy smoothies(especially the green ones), opt also for a salad as a snack.

୨୧Skincare୨୧

You have to wear sunscreen and if you want to get a tan you NEED to put that after sun lotion and be consistent with your skincare

୨୧Grow your lashes + eyebrows୨୧

Always, this is a must, you finally have enough time, then start now, be consistent and in 3 months you're going to have the best result, I advise you to use castor oil in the night and in the day a lash growth serum.

୨୧Learn to do your make up୨୧

Optional but very useful, in those days that you're at home you can learn how to do your make up so you're going to comeback to school and slay even in your worst days, plus it's a cute hobby.

౨ৎHOW TO GET POPULAR DURING SUMMER౨ৎ

If you don't have friends at school it would be nice to have them outside, plus having friends out makes you so much cooler! Are you ready to expand your social life?

୨୧Summer school/camp୨୧

A classic, you can meet so many people here, works best if you are between 11-16 yo, If you're 16+ you can try joing a camp and be an animator

୨୧Beach୨୧

Have you even heard of "the beach friend"? Where I'm from they are very common and popular, it usually starts early in childhood, but you can also make them at your age! You just need to approach the people that look like share the same interests as you, better if they are alone too!

୨୧Online୨୧

You can go on a forum site and actually ask in the chat if someone wants to make friends and exchange ig, snaps,discord etc...you might make long distance but strong friendships

୨୧Work୨୧

Now coworkers are not actually your friends, but you might get close to some, better if it's not a competitive environment, try to network between your coworkers, maybe some of them actually know people of your interest, if you can start working with friends!

୨୧Neighborhood events୨୧

Churches usually during summer do some activities for the youths you can try and enjoy them! Or go to a popular place or even host in your neighborhood!

౨ৎHOW TO HAVE A SUMMER FLING౨ৎ

I'm not really into romance, but it might be different from some of y'all! If you want to flirt, get. In a relationship or just have some fun experimenting then keep reading!

Follow the beauty steps written before!

୨୧Go to parties or events(better if on the beach)୨୧

What a better place to find love if not on the beach? All you'll need to do it's to wear a cute bikini and have fun with your friends!

୨୧Work on your gaze୨୧

You know the phrase "love at first sight"? Let's turn it into "love at first gaze" you need to exercise on your facial expressions and your seductive gaze, grab a mirror and flirt with yourself!

୨୧Make time to hangout୨୧

You're not going to find love by staying at home! You need to get out and wander around the city! Go to all the places where people of your age go! Bring your friends along(if you can or be brave and go alone!)

Phew, this guide was quite long! And there's so much more! Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my blog! Ilysm and I'm so grateful for all the people that read my posts, let's glow up together this summer!

xoxo gorgeous

-𝓐

[daughterofapollo-official]

Apollo kid Headconnons (my cabin)

Apollo Kids wake up with the sunrise. (This isn’t my original one but I really believe it) I wanted to give credit to the OP on Pinterest but I can’t find them.

They will wake up with the sun, as if Apollo himself was casting warm light on their mortal skin, lovingly waking them up to see the new day.

They will absorb as much sunlight as they can though out the days. The sun on their skin. It brings their energy up. They never get sun burns. The sun would never betray them so. They always have a tan, even in the summer. Granted it’s faded. They love watching the sun set. But their energy declines with the lack of light.

(Shout out to @iheartrios on Pinterest for this idea.)

Now the concept of a single language being the language of music is beyond me. Music doesn’t always have lyrics. And music is in every language.

But I can see why Italian has this reputation. Italy does have beautiful music and culture and sculptures and some of the best art around.

So yes I believe children of Apollo can speak Italian. Some of them even take it further to learn other romance/latin languages, such as Spanish. Even even if they don’t Latin languages are all so similar that Apollo children have the blessing of being able to listen to Portuguese and Spanish songs while understanding every word. they struggle slightly with French at times. Only because the pronunciation is so different.

Speaking of which child of Apollo will JUDGE your music. If it’s not original enough, not poetic enough, not emotional enough. If it does not make their body sway.

Sometimes they like musicals but not always. Just because they’re picky with music doesn’t mean they all like the same thing. Artistic taste it’s still personal.

However, they do not relish when a singer does not sing in their song, rather speak over the melody of the music. You cannot hear the melody you cannot indulge in the instrumental aspect of the song if someone is talking over it conflicts it messes up rhythm and messes up everything and children of Apollo hate that so unbelievably much that they will leave or end the song in any form, they can’t hate listening, listening to it. It upsets them. When the lyric vocals and melody do not match. They think it’s lazy and uncoordinated.

If you have a relationship with a child of Apollo, close friends or lover they will get so, so, so, so, SO upset if you get sick. They CARE about health so much, eating healthy, exercising. Everything. So when you get sick. They get upset. It pains them to know you’re not healthy. So they will do everything in their power to heal and nurse you back to health.

They will diagnose you and everything. Sometimes unsolicited, well- mostly unsolicited.

“Sometimes I just like everything in the world is out to get me.”

“Maybe you have paranoid personality disorder.”

“Or maybe I’m just pissed that every time I live camp misters try to kill me?!”

“Hmm, could be. Maybe that’s what caused your paranoid personality disorder.”

“I hate you.”

[mrfancyfoot]

Obey Me! Prompt: Freckles

The headcanon:  Living in the sunless Demon Realm, demons don’t naturally have freckles.  They might have spots and stripes and tattoos and makeup and other demonic features, but most are unfamiliar with how sun exposure is actually the cause of skin freckling for humans and angels.

The boys might have seen freckles on prior exchange students from the Human Realm, but MC is the first one they’ve really cared to notice them on.  And they’re fading.

Featuring Lucifer, Mammon, Asmo, Satan, Diavolo & Gender Neutral MC.

Rating: G Warnings: None

My headcanon collection

Lucifer:

Since day one of their arrival, Lucifer has kept tabs on the health of MC.  However, he doesn’t intervene unless he believes that MC may be ill or in the way of harm.

MC’s been getting paler over the last couple of months and it has not escaped his notice.

He begins taking careful note of whether MC is getting enough vitamin D in their diet, going so far as to ensure that shared meals at the House of Lamentation are full of the nutrients their human needs to remain healthy.  If MC seems down or out of it, they’ll promptly find themselves whisked off to get a prescription for vitamin supplements to make up for any deficiencies they might have from now living in the Demon Realm.

He remembers the adjustments he and his brothers had to go through after they fell.  For most of them, it meant changing their diets, though Asmo in particular despaired over the loss of the spattering of freckles over across his nose and cheeks as he feared his beauty was fading.

It might not bring their freckles back, but he’ll be damned if MC becomes unhealthy on his watch.

Luke is also looking a bit more pallid these days.

He might have mentioned something to Lord Diavolo about MC and the angels looking overly pale these days due to the lack of sufficient sun exposure they’d normally have in their own realms.  It was only coincidence that a trip was soon planned to spend some time in the sun at Lord Diavolo’s private island.

He might not say anything, but seeing MC happy and healthy is a source of Pride for him.  He’ll admire from afar if they manage to get MC’s freckles back.

Mammon:

“Yo, human!  Where’d all ya spots go?”

It took him a while to figure out what was changing, but being in charge of their human means he needs to notice these things!

He freaks out at first thinking it means that MC is getting sick.  Even after explaining it to him, he’s a bit skeptical that it doesn’t mean that MC is unwell.  He knew that humans could have spots cuz he’s seen them during his time in the Human Realm,but he never knew it was because of the sun.  Now that he thinks about it now, though, it makes sense with the changes some of the brothers went through after the Fall.  And the little pipsqueak angel also seems to be significantly more pale.

He internalizes this for too long before finally mentioning something to Lucifer.  “Hey, maybe a trip out to that island would do them some good, yeah?”

Lucifer shot down a trip to the Human Realm just to go to the beach…but he’d see about organising a group trip to the Demon Lord’s private beach.

Asmo:

“Oh, darling, you’re looking so pale these days!  Are you feeling alright??”

Asmo’s one of the first to notice the sun-kissed color of MC’s cheeks and freckles fading the longer they’re in the Demon Realm.

It reminds him of part of his own transition after the Fall.

He drags MC to his room whenever he can to make sure that they’re keeping up an acceptable skincare routine.

There’s a specialty spa he loves to go to because it has tanning booths.  While normally scarce in the Demon Realm, they are popular in areas where Human Realm spa services and aesthetics are more on trend.  He uses them to get just the right amount of sun-kissed glow and dainty flecks back to his skin.

He’ll suggest they go there sometime and might drop a hint that they even have tanning there, though he’d never pressure MC into using them.

If MC likes the suggestion, Asmo will want them both to make a routine of going together.

He’ll be overjoyed when MC’s cute freckles start making a return.

Asmo is one of the first to jump onboard for plans to go out to Lord Diavolo’s private island.  He’ll never miss a good opportunity to get in some sunbathing (and pictures of him sunbathing for his Devilgram).  He’s one of the ones sure to remember sunscreen and insist on lathering up MC - it’s not sexy to get all red and burned from too much sun!

If MC is involved with Asmo, he’ll lay sweet kisses all over them for each freckle.

Satan:

It was less that he noticed and more just that he’s aware that it’s something that happens with many humans and angels when they spend significant amounts of time staying in the Demon Realm.

Being born to the darkness of the Demon Realm, however, he did not realise the cause of the change being connected to the sun - or lack thereof.

“Ah, that’s…intriguing.  I’ve never come across such a thing discussed in any of the books I’ve read about human anatomy.  Is it painful to lose them?”

He scours books on skincare for humans and reads up on the effects of too much and too little sun exposure.  There sadly isn’t a whole lot written on this in the Demon Realm, yet.

Satan is the one that suggests that MC maybe should be seeing a doctor regularly during their stay to ensure that their health is being properly looked after.  After all, the human health books advise that routine bloodwork can signal of issues developing long before outward appearances may reflect a problem.

If MC doesn’t care of their freckles fading, then he doesn’t care, either, though the little spots remind him of the spots that some cats have. They're cute.

Diavolo:

Is genuinely very concerned when he notices MC’s “spots” fading away.

They’re the first human exchange student that he’s become close enough with to notice such a thing happening.

He knows that many humans can have all kinds of spots; some many, some few; some dark, some light.

But he didn’t know they could start fading away.

Does it mean their precious exchange student is ill??

He asks Barbatos to assist him in finding books that might provide the answer, but they don’t have much luck.  It seems to be a phenomenon little reported on within the Demon Realm.

He isn’t sure how to approach it, so is just blunt about it one day when he and MC are enjoying some private time together, “I don’t mean to alarm you, MC…but I noticed that your spots don’t appear to be quite as plentiful as when you first arrived here.  Have you been feeling well?”

Is relieved when he’s told that it’s a normal thing to occur due to the lack of sunlight that the Demon Realm has, but is equally upset that he’s inadvertently been the cause of this.  The health of his exchange student is one of his highest priorities while they are under his care.

Even if MC is getting sufficient nutrients from their diet, Diavolo is skeptical that their freckles fading isn’t inherently a sign of bad health.  He tells Lucifer that they’ll all vacation at his island over Spring Break.

Is disappointed that a few days in the sun won’t be enough to ensure that MC’s freckles will come back and not fade again.  So that just means they’ll have to plan more sunny trips!

Maybe he should make a mini sun for MC.

Is skeptical that tanning beds are sufficient for the same desired effect but will confer with Asmo to find the best and safest options to explore with MC.

MC’s spots are one of his favorite features if they’re involved with the Prince.  They’re one of the cute unique things that humans can have.  They might be from the sun but they’re like having a face and body full of stars like the night sky.  He could spend hours lying together with MC and gently tracing them.

Send me prompts~ ❤️❤️❤️

[rabbitcruiser]

Don’t Fry Day 

Be aware of the dangers of sun exposure and try hosting an indoor picnic or movie marathon on the Council for Skin Cancer Prevention’s No Fry Day.

Although it might sound more like a dieter’s mantra, Don’t Fry Day is actually not about eating healthy food. Instead, the day is an initiative of the National Council on Skin Cancer Prevention. So get that SPF sunscreen on hand and get ready to celebrate Don’t Fry Day!

History of Don’t Fry Day

Since the beginning of time, the sun has been critical for human life on planet Earth. Without the sun, people would literally freeze to death! But, less dramatically, people who do not get enough exposure to sunlight can have health problems such as Vitamin D deficiency and decreased serotonin. Lack of sunshine has also been linked to other health problems such as bone problems, skin problems, weight gain, depression, some cancers and more.

With that in mind, it’s important to remember that this day is not about making sure that people don’t get any sun exposure at all! The purpose of Don’t Fry Day is just what the name says – be careful not to get a sunburn.

The Skin Cancer Foundation, National Council on Skin Cancer Prevention, and other important organizations have made it clear that getting a little sun is good, but getting too much sun, or a sunburn, can be dangerous. Especially if sunburns are repeated over and over again. In fact, sunburn is a leading cause of a few different forms of skin cancer, including the most deadly one, melanoma.

The great news is that sunburn is completely preventable! And that’s why Don’t Fry Day was established by the National Council on Skin Cancer Prevention, to raise awareness for the various actions that can be taken to protect and prevent children and adults from too much exposure to the sun.

Situated just in advance of the warmest months of the year, at least in the northern hemisphere, Don’t Fry Day offers a kind reminder each year for people to be careful and take care of their skin health!

How to Celebrate Don’t Fry Day

Try out some of these ideas for celebrating Don’t Fry Day:

Use Sunburn Precaution Tactics

With the days of tanning and basking in the sun all day long behind us, the words on everyone’s lips these days might be something along the lines of ‘slip, slop, slap and wrap’. This little mantra can be a great encouragement for sun worshippers to slip on a shirt, slop on sunscreen (SPF 30 and above is ideal), slap on a hat, and wrap on sunglasses.

Throw Out Old Sunscreen

One important thing to remember is that sunscreen can lose its effectiveness after sitting for a while. So be sure to check the expiration dates on bottles of sunscreen and throw out anything that is too old to be effective. If there’s not a date on the bottle and no one in the family can remember when it was purchased, then it’s probably time for it to go!

Teach Kids About Sun Exposure

Don’t Fry Day is a great opportunity to teach kids about being sun smart in a light-hearted way. Sure, a little sunburn might not feel like the end of the world just one time, but kids need to know that prolonged exposure to the sun without protection, especially in certain areas of the world, can be a health risk. So perhaps parents and teachers can try to make the education about Don’t Fry Day a bit fun and talk about ways to avoid becoming a lobster and living in the pain of sunburn through prevention and protection methods.

Host an Indoor Activity

Rather than staying out in the sun all day, why not celebrate by holding an indoor picnic and having a movie marathon for at least part of the day? Or if the weather’s nice, grab some friends, get a beach umbrella, and have some sun-smart fun in the great outdoors. Just remember to follow the rules: slip, slop, slap and wrap between the hours of 10 and 4!

Source

[anestofocs]

(Guest) Muse Profile: Wild Fang

"Flamboyant Mercenary"

Basic Details:

Real Name: Unknown

Alias: Wild Fang

Age: Appears to be early 30's

Birthday: Unknown

Fighting Style: Martial arts enhanced by cybernetics

Occupation: Mercenary, Second in Command of the Wild Dog Organization

Likes: Glam rock, His gun collection, Wild Dog, Power, His immortality, Visual Kei, Causing chaos

Dislikes: The VSSE, Dying, Looking basic, Mundanity,

Appearance details:

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Blonde

Skintone: Tan

Gender: Male

Country of Origin: Unknown

Deeper Details:

Family: Unknown

Personality:

A haughty, eccentric man with a sadistic streak. Wild Fang is someone who cares little for others who aren't apart of his "family" of mercenaries. He is a thrill seeker, trying to find enjoyment through bloodshed and seeking greater and greater opponents. Unlike his more serious mentor. Wild Fang delights in taunting and quipping against his foes. He is also quick to anger, especially towards the various VSSE agents that stand in the way of his job.

Bio:

A man with a mysterious past and shrouded in secrets. Few know just were he came from, or even when he first became Wild Dog's apprentice. Just as he prefers it.

Rp Background: (aka the birds are making shit up because he's a lightgun games villain)

In reality, Wild Fang was one of many failed lab experiments. His life from birth to the age of 10 was one of harshness and cruelty. He did not have most of the basic necessities to grow up healthy as a child. Lacking even a name. Many of his fellow test subjects died from the experiments or the poor conditions they dwelled in. All of it to make the perfect undying warriors for the head of the company. Wild Fang would have remained in that place, if not for chance and fate having other plans.

One day, The Lab he was imprisoned in was attacked. A band of Mercenaries and Terrorists looted the place needing supplies. Their leader a terrifying figure known for his coldness and ability to survive what nobody else could..

..Wild Dog had only intended it for it to be a hit and run. But in a rare moment of finding something even he found disgusting. The immortal mercenary ordered for every scientist to be killed and the surviving children to be brought to safety. Aside from the oldest. The ten year old boy that caught his attention for how alike they looked. Taking him in as an apprentice and son. Wild Fang soon grew up to be the man he is today..

[marica-ya]

This is the time of the night where I get to my parents house and they start reading stuff online about artichokes being good for gallbladder stones. I actually love spending time with my parents, I feel very at ease, unlike spending time with people my age or younger than me at work. Not that is wrong to discuss anything, every phase has its time, but I feel more comforted around people que tienen un sentido del tiempo más largo. Que aceptan las faltas y las ven como parte del camino, que conocen mejor en qué no vale perder el tiempo, que es tan corto y tan largo también. I don't want to talk about the ethics of relationships or about patriarchy or class struggles with people who know the theory but have never had to make choices, or have never taken actions to support their speeches. Young adults are much like that, it's normal. The average 24 year old is just going out in the real world and confronting problems that test their real values. I for one cannot say I've had perfect courage. However much my actions have been praised by outsiders, it's on me to be honest about my effort.

Our relationship was difficult to navigate cause we didn't have anyone around us that could help. Not for lack of trying to get help or guidance, but because truly we couldn't find any help. My family is learning fast how to spot when I'm in an OCD loop, and that's taken years, on top of the decades that have taken for my parents to fine tune their instincts. Being incredibly heady isn't the same as being wise. Being wise is much preferable or honorable to me than being smart. I am incredibly heady. I make such good arguments it's almost impossible to tell I'm actually just justifying anxious delirium because I'm convinced of it myself. I wonder often how much of the conflict was born or raised from this.

Saw this story by Gabi who I always love reading and I feel the same here in Ecuador. I think it's much less so maybe than in countries where the economy allows for young adults to leave home before they're 25 years old, but here is not so simple. Not that it deters people, obviously, I know friends who prefered to squat than live at home with their parent/s. I definitely would have left really early had our country had any real opportunities for disabled people, or if I had been healthy enough to work, but I'm glad I didn't leave my parents house for good until very recently, but I wouldn't feel that way if I hadn't been able to move, to make a home for myself with someone I adore, and then be able to come back and seek shelter here. There is no need in my body to remember how difficult it was to live here for so long and how sour and difficult my relationship with my dad was.

My relationship with my partner indeed taught me how bad things can go without a community to hold you; to hold you close, hold you accountable, share the weight of holding someone else...

My task is not to let the good blind me again, but in my heart I recognize the effort it took from ben to hold me when I was alone. I feel uneasy and sick thinking how many vulnerable people hold on to relationships that are destabilizing in so many ways because they bring some stability that was sorely lacking. My heart softens thinking about the love shown to me. Then I feel sick again thinking about the lies and the guilt and the things that I was accused of, and also thinking about the things I did or the way I compulsed. Sometimes asking to understand makes no sense. It is better to feel and accept, or maybe not.

I don't really want to hang with people who I feel are in a much different place than I am. That's how I feel.

[lukewarmblogs]

Best ways to reduce wrinkles and fine lines - Start using sunscreen from day one

As we age, our skin starts to show signs of wear and tear, with wrinkles and fine lines being some of the most visible signs of aging. While aging is a natural process that cannot be stopped, there are things we can do to reduce and prevent wrinkles and fine lines. One of the best ways to achieve this is by using sunscreen from day one. In this blog, we will discuss the best ways to reduce/prevent wrinkles and fine lines and how using sunscreen can help. 

Wear sunscreen every day :

One of the easiest and most effective ways to prevent wrinkles and fine lines is to wear sunscreen every day. Sunscreen helps to protect your skin from the damaging effects of the sun's UV rays, which can cause premature aging and damage to your skin. It is important to choose a broad-spectrum sunscreen that protects against both UVA and UVB rays with a minimum SPF of 30. 

Stay hydrated :

Keeping your skin hydrated is essential in preventing wrinkles and fine lines. Drinking plenty of water throughout the day helps to keep your skin plump and supple, reducing the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. 

Quit smoking :

Smoking is one of the biggest contributors to premature ageing, including wrinkles and fine lines. The chemicals in cigarettes can cause damage to your skin's collagen and elastin, which can lead to the development of wrinkles and fine lines. Quitting smoking can help to reduce the appearance of these signs of aging. 

Eat a healthy diet :

Eating a healthy diet can also help to prevent wrinkles and fine lines. Foods rich in antioxidants, such as fruits and vegetables, can help to protect your skin from damage and keep it looking healthy and youthful. 

Get enough sleep :

Getting enough sleep is essential for maintaining healthy skin. Lack of sleep can cause your skin to appear dull and tired, which can make wrinkles and fine lines more noticeable. 

Which is the most suitable sunscreen for everyday use? 

Lukewarm® Sunscreen SPF50+ is an excellent choice for everyday sunscreen use. Its 360˚ skin regime protects and replenishes the skin, deflecting the harmful impact of the sun and daily stressors to delay the common signs of aging. With broad spectrum SPF 50+ PA++++, alongside pollution shield, anti-blue light, and nanoparticle technologies, this cream creates a barrier between skin and the perils of modern existence. 

This advanced, mineral-rich formula provides the highest protection grade, PA++++, shielding you 16 times from UVA and Ultra Long UVA rays before tanning. The sunscreen forms a 'force-field' defense against the onslaught of daily stressors, including UVB, HEVL, Blue Light, and IRA rays, which are some of the primary contributing factors to fine lines, dark spots, and hyperpigmentation. 

Suitable for all skin types, Lukewarm® Sunscreen SPF50+ does not leave an ashy or white cast, nor does it cause pesky pilling. This brilliant blend hydrates, softens, nourishes, and soothes the skin, giving it the energy it needs to focus on natural renewal. The mildly scented, congenial formula is super-lightweight and sits flawlessly on the skin, boosting your lasting radiance. 

Lukewarm Sunscreen SPF50+ is highly photostable, breathable, non-sticky, non-greasy, and ultra-resistant to sand, water, and sweat, making it a perfect addition to your daily skincare routine. Whether you're going for a walk or just running errands, this sunscreen will keep your skin protected and healthy all day long. 

Using sunscreen from day one is one of the most important things you can do to prevent wrinkles and fine lines. By protecting your skin from the sun's harmful UV rays, you can help to prevent premature aging and damage to your skin. However, it is also important to take care of your skin by staying hydrated, eating a healthy diet, quitting smoking, and getting enough sleep. By following these tips, you can help to keep your skin looking youthful and healthy for years to come. 

[rupiloan1]

5 Habits of People With Great Skin

Having great skin isn’t just about genetics or using the right skincare products. It’s also about establishing healthy habits that promote skin health from the inside out. Here are five habits that people with great skin tend to have in common:

They stay hydrated:

One of the most important things you can do for your skin is to stay hydrated. When you’re dehydrated, your skin can become dry, dull, and prone to breakouts. Drinking enough water helps to keep your skin hydrated, which can improve its overall appearance.

Experts recommend drinking at least eight glasses of water per day, but your needs may vary depending on your activity level, climate, and other factors. If you struggle to drink enough water, try keeping a water bottle with you at all times and sipping throughout the day. You can also try incorporating water-rich foods like cucumbers, watermelon, and strawberries into your diet.

They eat a balanced diet:

The foods you eat can have a big impact on the health of your skin. People with great skin tend to eat a balanced diet rich in whole foods like fruits, vegetables, lean protein, and healthy fats.

Fruits and vegetables are particularly important for skin health, as they contain vitamins and antioxidants that help to protect and nourish your skin. Some of the best foods for skin health include:

Blueberries: These small berries are packed with antioxidants that help to protect your skin from damage caused by free radicals.

Spinach: This leafy green is rich in vitamins A and C, which are essential for skin health.

Salmon: This fatty fish is an excellent source of omega-3 fatty acids, which help to reduce inflammation and promote healthy skin.

Avocado: This creamy fruit is high in healthy fats and vitamin E, which help to nourish and protect your skin.

In addition to eating a balanced diet, people with great skin tend to avoid excessive amounts of sugar, alcohol, and processed foods, which can all have a negative impact on skin health.

They get enough sleep:

Sleep is essential for overall health and wellbeing, but it’s also important for skin health. When you sleep, your body goes into repair mode, repairing and rejuvenating your skin cells. This is why lack of sleep can lead to dull, tired-looking skin, and even breakouts.

Experts recommend getting seven to nine hours of sleep per night for optimal health and skin health. If you struggle to get enough sleep, try establishing a bedtime routine to help you wind down before bed. This might include turning off electronics an hour before bed, taking a warm bath or shower, or reading a book to help you relax.

They protect their skin from the sun:

Exposure to the sun’s harmful UV rays can lead to skin damage, including wrinkles, age spots, and even skin cancer. People with great skin tend to be diligent about protecting their skin from the sun.

This includes using a broad-spectrum sunscreen with an SPF of at least 30, wearing protective clothing like hats and long sleeves, and seeking shade during the hottest parts of the day. It’s also important to avoid tanning beds, which can be just as damaging to your skin as the sun.

They manage their stress levels:

Stress can have a big impact on your skin, leading to breakouts, redness, and other issues. People with great skin tend to have healthy ways of managing their stress levels, which can help to keep their skin looking and feeling healthy.

Some of the best ways to manage stress include:

Exercise: Exercise is a great way to relieve stress and boost mood. It can also help to improve circulation, which can promote healthy skin.

Meditation: Meditation is a great way to quiet the mind and reduce stress. There are many different types

[globalion]

Collagen Supplements | Zone4pharma

What is collagen?

Collagen is a protein that’s found in the body. It’s mainly found in the skin, hair, and nails. It also makes up a lot of our muscles, tendons, and ligaments.

Collagen is an essential protein that helps keep our hair strong, nails healthy and skin looking youthful. Our bodies don’t produce enough collagen to maintain these important functions as we get older. So it’s important to take steps to help keep your skin healthy by consuming collagen 

The main four types of collagen and what they do are:

Type I   This type makes up 90% of your body’s collagen. …

Type II  This type is found in elastic cartilage, which provides joint support.

Type III This type is found in muscles, arteries and organs.

Type IV This type is found in the layers of your skin.

What does collagen do?

The main role of collagen is to provide strength to different parts of our bodies like skin and bones; it also protects other cells from outside harmful substances by constructing a barrier around them.

It is a type of protein that gives strength, elasticity, and form to different types of tissues, such as bone, skin, and cartilage.

Collagen is responsible for giving strength to the bones by providing them with structural rigidity. It also helps in the formation of scar tissue. It also helps form tendons and ligaments by connecting muscle fibers to bone cells.

It also makes up the gut lining, blood vessels and other tissues throughout the body. Collagen has many jobs in the human body but it mainly acts as glue to stick tissues together making up a scaffold of sorts that wraps around muscles and joints.

Collagen also helps to protect other cells and tissues in the body by forming a physical barrier against pathogens or toxins. Collagen has an important role in keeping skin healthy, strong and youthful-looking.

What happens to collagen as I age?

As you become older, your body creates less collagen and the collagen you already have degrades more quickly. Compared to when you were younger, the collagen is also of lower quality. After menopause, women’s collagen production significantly declines. After age 60, everyone typically experiences a reduction in collagen production.

Can I recognize a decrease in my body’s collagen levels?

Collagen is what helps our skin to look healthy and vibrant. So, when we notice reduced levels of collagen, we need to find out about the possible causes and take action.

Protein deficiency: A lack of protein can lead to wrinkles, hair loss, dry skin etc.

Lack of water: Water is vital for skin health because it carries nutrients deep into the skin where they are needed most. 

As we age, collagen production in our skin slows down. This leads to wrinkles, lines and saggy skin.

Exposure to sun and UV radiation

Natural aging process in the body

muscle pains, muscle shrinkage, and muscle weakness

less flexible and more rigid tendons and ligaments.

Osteoarthritis is joint pain brought on by damaged cartilage.

loss of movement brought on by stiffness or joint injury.

gastrointestinal issues brought on by a thinned digestive tract lining.

Issues with blood circulation.

What can I do to stop the loss of skin collagen and delay the aging process?

Wear sunscreen every day to reduce the signs of aging skin. Collagen is harmed by UV light exposure. Make use of sun protection products with an SPF of 30 or higher. When outdoors, put on a wide-brimmed hat, UV-protective sunglasses, and airy long-sleeved shirts and slacks. For further protection, look for clothing with a UV protection factor label. Skip the tanning bed.

Consume a diet that is well-balanced, such as the Mediterranean diet, which is rich in fruits, vegetables, legumes, whole grains, nuts, and seafood with just a small quantity of dairy, meat, and eggs.

Collagen peptides: what are they?

Small fragments of animal collagen are known as collagen peptides. It is impossible to absorb collagen in its whole. It needs to be divided up into more manageable peptides or amino acids. Supplements for oral collagen are available as tablets and powders. They often have two or three amino acids in them. They are offered for sale as hydrolyzed collagen or collagen peptides. Your digestive system helps you absorb collagen peptides.

Does consuming foods high in collagen raise my body’s collagen levels?

The main dietary source of collagen is meat and meat products which provide about 18-36g per kg per day (or about 1g/kg/day) for adults depending on the type of meat consumed. However, eating collagen-rich foods does not necessarily lead to increase in your collagen level in your body because it has little direct influence on your collagen levels.

Is eating collagen-rich food really as good as taking a supplement?

Eating collagen-rich foods does not increase the collagen level in your body. Your body produces collagen naturally and it has nothing to do with the food you eat.

One study found that when you eat more than 16 grams of hydrolyzed collagen peptide, the level of free form amino acids in your blood increased. The study also found that when you eat more than 16 grams of hydrolyzed collagen peptide, your blood glucose levels will also increase.

https://zone4pharma.ae/

[animezinglife]

Definitely paranoid. :)

Personally, I don’t know or care what kind of drama’s going on in any of their lives (and it’s their business/we’ll never know the full story), but he’s going to fluctuate a little. That's normal. A little fluctuation--especially coming down to what's really more of his normal from a pretty over-the-top routine--is still healthy.

I work with a few too many aesthetic bodybuilders--most of them keep it natty, and you can very clearly see the difference between bulk, cut, off-season, etc. Actors too will make adjustments to they look as good as possible onscreen and they do it quickly, whether that’s a constant mix of all sorts of mystery concoctions for God-knows-how-long like the Avengers men or losing the will to live through a diet of nothing but chicken and vegetables like Alexander Skarsgard. THOSE two ways of going about it are absolutely not healthy and not normal. 

It also has to do with lighting, tans, makeup, clothes (or lack thereof), and more. How much he’d bulked, when he’d cut, hydration, etc. He and the other cast members were all lifting between takes filming that beach scene for a good pump. The adjustments can be as small as this, but with huge results:

They also tailored his uniform in Top Gun to his already fit body so well that it wasn’t fair to the audience...and it permanently burned an image in our brains. He could slim down just a little, have a bit less of a tan, and be in the same lighting as the rest of us, and in a baggier t-shirt, it'd make a big difference.

I’d be far more concerned if he just continued to bulk and if his face and neck got thicker. This also doesn’t look like rapid or unnatural loss to me at all. It looks like he has a normal (still very fit) 30-something-year-old’s body and face. He looks comfortable. He looks cute.

He actually looks closer to how he did before Top Gun, which is not at all a bad thing. Consistency with whatever you’ve got naturally is healthy.

All that said, his body’s none of our business. We can appreciate the very intentionally fanservicey videos he puts out in the most spectacularly, stereotypically Austinite/DFWite fashion where he knows exactly what the reaction’s going to be, and we can not critique or over-analyze it.

He looks like he’s been working. He’s visibly still working out. He's probably not lifting as heavy or as frequently as he was for TG. That is 100% okay.

I’m sure he is stressed. Work alone will do that to anyone even if you like your job. While I don’t think he looks it, he’s probably also not getting a lot of sleep as a new dog dad if that puppy is staying with him all the time. Puppies will keep you on your toes no matter what the time. I don't know anything about the breakup, what caused it, and I don't care to. But absolutely, that would be stressful regardless (especially if he's been with her a while). You never know, though. Their business entirely.

We wouldn’t go into a weight analysis with an actress (again, unless it was too shocking/visibly unhealthy to ignore), after all. I’m hoping we can leave that in the past with both genders.

Unless they're a Kardashian extreme where there's not a single real part left on their bodies, most celebs consistently look like regular people out in the wild.

Glen looks like Glen. That's a good sign.

Okay I know I just posted these photos in excitement but am I the only one a little concerned with how thin Glen is looking in these pics? Like he clearly lost weight in his face for sure and now I'm worried about his well-being. I read that he was struggling with all the bs nonsense with his ex trying to gain fame off of him with fake rumors and I can see it. Maybe I'm paranoid Idk?!?!

Hopefully this puppy brings him lots of joy and love!

[the-broken-truth]

hy, if you have some free time, can you write a Yandere wonder woman that is a mother to a boy, but can't be in his due to some oracle bs about her son being an bad omen, she can't let him die so she put him to adoption, which turn to be a good thing because the adoptive family, altough not very well off is loving and awsome and that causes her the spiral into serious mental problems because seeing how awsome her son is she feels betrayed since she should be the he calls mother.

Broken Truth: Someone finally asked for it! A Yandere Mother Wonder Woman with a son. I wanted to write one of these for a while now, and I finally get the chance. Thanks for making this ask. Now, let the word weave together!!!

Diana Prince walked down the busy street of Metropolis with her hands in her coat as the winter wind blew, making her shiver slightly - she was on her way to get a hot cup of hot chocolate to fight off the chill but the winter wasn't the only thing that bothered her, it was also around that time of the year again. The time she gave birth to her son - [Name].

She still remembered that night - the moon was full, the sky was full of stars while lacking clouds, and the Birthing Hall on the Amazon Island - Themyscira - was crowded at the whim of the Queen of the Amazons - Hippolyta - as her daughter was giving birth to a future heir. Diana pushed for hours and panted for hours until the child was born - a healthy baby boy that Diana named [Name]. She held her son with a smile on her face, crying tears of joy that echoed throughout the room to her Amazon Sisters, but that joy was shattered by the words of the Oracle.

"You mustn't keep the heir of the Theymscira - it was only lead to your ruin and the fall of the World of Man." She spoke with sadness in her voice.

Diana looked at her child and cried again, but this time with sorrow at the thought of losing her child, however, the words of the Oracle always came true and she didn't want to be the ruin of the World of Man but she refused to kill her only child and waited for her strength to return before she flew to Superman's Domain in Metropolis and dropped her son off at the doorstep of an orphanage, wrapping him in a golden blanket before kissing him on the star-shaped birthmark on his forehead before flying away again as tears fell down her face.

That was 16 years ago.

Now, Diana walked into the coffee shop and waited in line until she reached the register.

"One hot chocolate with cream, please." Diana said as she reached into her pocket with her eyes looking down as she pulled her wallet out of counted to money for the drink.

"Yes, Ma'am. That will be $5.24, please, and thank you." A male voice said. Diana counted the money and looked up to face the cashier when her eyes widened at the face of the boy before her.

He had short black hair with tan skin and shining blue eyes, normal right? Well, the star-shaped birthmark on his forehead wasn't!

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" The young man asked.

"[Real Name], is that you?" Diana almost whispered but the boy's keen ears picked on what she said.

"[Real Name]? No, my name is [Adopted Name]. Sorry, but you confused me for someone else." [Adopted Name] smiled as he held out his hand for the cash. Diana blinked before she handed it to him and he asked for her name, she gave it to him before she gathered her change and went to her seat to wait but she couldn't stop looking at [Adopted Name] who was working with the customers before the order came out and she went up to get it.

"Tell me something, [Adopted Name], how old are you? You look a little too young to be working here." Diana said.

"I get that a lot but I'm actually 16 years old. I just happen t have a baby face." [Adopted Name] smiled with a nervous chuckle before his phone began ringing, "Excuse me a moment."

Diana watched as he pulled a flip phone out of his pocket and opened it before putting it up to his ear, "Hey, Mom."

Diana's blood froze and her eyes widened.

'Mom? He's calling another woman 'Mom'? But... But... I AM HIS MOTHER! WHO DARES TAKE MY SON AWAY FROM ME?!' Diana thought as she glared at the phone before taking her drink and walking away, leaving the store with anger in her heart. 'That human... She dares take my son away from me. I'll deal with her, then I'll take my son back. He's my son... MINE.'

[supernovafeather]

Rules Breakers

First Order!Poe Dameron x F!First Order!Reader

Content : reader is hierarchical superior, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mention of war, sexual tension, sexual innuendo, mutual pining, slow burn, fluff

Words ~3600

For someone that woke up in a terrible mood today, this smile on your face is extremely bright. Fortunately for your credibility your head is hidden from the rest of your squadron thanks to your TIE. In your hand is a little flower freshly bought at the local market, the freshness of its blue petals unbothered by the dry air of this huge desert you landed on. The few droplets of water on its shaft are already evaporating and its beauty will be gone by the next hour but for now you let your heart beat at this gift.

You know who bought this for you. One of your men, Poe Dameron. He is the only one being cheeky enough to do such a thing and also the one never hiding that he doesn't care that much about some rules. The most talented pilot of your squadron is known for his outgoing nature and you would be lying to yourself if you thought he wasn't an attractive guy. Obviously he does think you are an attractive woman as he tries to flirt with you whenever he can. At first you considered him it to be some kind of asshole newcomer thinking he could do whatever he wanted under your lead but you found out early that he had no difficulty to obey you. No he was just a flirty guy not even intimidated by your ranking difference. You being his Commander ? No problem for Dameron.

You keep this lonely flower in the pocket at the front of your shirt, right by your left breast. At least it adds some color to the blackness making this heat worse than anything else. You have a few remarks to address your own superiors about this choice. Who can be stupid enough to make you wear all this black in such a place ? The base is barely starting to get built, droids are buzzing everywhere like hundreds of bugs. There are barely any organic living being here other than your squadron, another one and a battalion that isn't even complete. The politics of "always advancing, never slowing down" from the strategists is too premature in such hostile environment.

As you inspect your TIE already covered in sand, you hear this distinct voice behind you.

"Good morning Commander." Dameron says as you turn around.

"Good morning soldier." You reply as you grin at his sunglasses covering his eyes. "I see the suns are too much for you to handle."

"Well. You know the actual cause I guess," he laughs, "but at least it was fun. It could have been good for you to come over. You're always on your plans and machines."

The alcohol scent is not too strong, he certainly took a good bath at the only spot with water in the base, the temporary fountain then washed his teeth in it and got out. His clothes are not in a bad state, his black pilot uniform with a beige veil that moderate the heat by covering his head and most of his body. You should do the same it could save your life. Even in those conditions his curled and dark hair looks good and healthy. His skin got a bit more tanned than usual, and a stubble found its way on his sharp jaws. It looks... exquisite. A surprising mix of the strict First Order uniform and his relative nonchalance. He's lucky you're not on a mission and there are no superiors around yet. His lips are cracked due to thirst but their shape is still perfect. Obviously genetics got generous with that guy.

"It's the fate of a Commander." You say proudly as his smile widens. "You'll see it when you get promoted. No party in the middle of a recently conquered desert. Only orders. You'll realize that complaining about the lack of quarters won't be your priority anymore. At least you have your TIE to sleep in."

"Sure. But it could have been great to have you around. I know you're fun when you want to, ma'am."

"Maybe." You admit half-heartedly. "But I would have to contact our previous base with a hangover and no way the others see me like that."

"Even without alcohol. Or with just a little bit you know." He says as he puts his hands in his black pants pockets. "I see you got a flower ?"

"Dameron. I know it's you." You say with a smile.

He tilts his head to the side and his joy gets replaced by surprise.

"What ? No, no it doesn't come from me ma'am."

"Huh ?" You say while blinking, "what are you saying ?"

"I was just kidding, of course it comes from me." He says with a boyish smile showing his white teeth and a shrug. "I hope you like it."

He is just so casual about all of this that you can only be impressed. He is unlike anyone else you encountered in this Order. It's a great change. He's fun for a talented pilot in his thirties.

"I'm surprised you find the energy to cross the base to a local market and come back with your hangover just to bring me a flower." You say as you repress a smile.

"I didn't go there for that reason to be frank with you ma'am. I was hoping for some painkiller." He says as he rests against your TIE, his covered eyes wandering towards the trail of dozens of droids heading to the base. "But I saw that flower, found it pretty and thought it would be great to bring it back. You complain about the sand all the time so why not try to give you some vegetation to think about ?"

"I can't plainly realize how bold you can be sometimes Dameron." You half scold him with your hands on your hips. "A First Order soldier with a hangover that could get kidnapped by a rebel spy ? Doesn't that sound like a potential outcome to you ?"

"No, I know you would chase us down to kick his ass." He replies with another bright smile as he lands his gaze on you. "And mine too but his first and harder so I don't have anything to be afraid of."

Well he's not wrong, so you close your mouth, shake your head and go back to your TIE, noting all the micro damages inflicted to its outsides during the last sandstorm.

"So did you like that flower ?"

"Dameron, as much as I appreciate your dedication to what's important to you, I'd love to see you being as dedicated as you should to your duty." You scold him firmly without turning to him.

"Oh. Alright, yes ma'am." He says in a disappointed voice. "Sorry for annoying you."

It's painful to have to act like this and you can't stop yourself from staring at this man walking away. In all honesty you would have given up your respect for the rules if you were his equal. But you just can't. This kind of predicament is already extremely difficult to deal with in a squadron and you are not willing to feel guilty if anything had to happen to him during a mission. You would already feel extremely bad if this had to happen today. He's a good guy, really passionate in everything, or almost everything.

Covered in sand after spending your day outside, you take a quick stop at your own personal access to water in your quarters i.e a sink that hot broken during its travel to this part of the planet. So instead of washing yourself standing by it, you make the water leak down a bucket, and wash with a sponge you found to be unused. You weren't expecting it to be so aggressive to your skin but at least your epidermis is as soft as the suns are hot in the afternoon.

Once your hair got cleaned as well you go to the newest area of the base : the bar. No drink other than water for now, the boring white, grey and blue paint still fresh and horrible to your nose. Still good to relax.

"Our favorite Commander." Dameron greets you with a perfect military salute contrasting with the awful state of his clothing. "Welcome to our hellish heaven. Stinks but fun."

"Maker, what happened to you Dameron ?" You ask in genuine disbelief.

He changed his uniform for a beige pair of pants and a white large top hanging here and there where he didn't tuck it in his pants. No sunglasses on his face, and his hair is now just a mop of dark curls. His boots look clean at least. This is not nonchalance, more like the lack of self care.

"Heat made me go crazy so I came back in the base, took a shower and ran back here. I was wearing clothes by the way I haven't ran down the hallway naked." He explains deadpanned.

"You... you..." you start without much knowing where you're heading to as you keep eyeing him up and down critically. "You are lucky no supervisor has arrived yet, soldier."

He answers something with a cheeky voice but now that you just noticed the bump down there you feel confused. Well it's not in the man-happy-to-see-you mode, but more in the there-is-a-lot-to-pack-and-unpack and you don't know what to do with that information. It's not that obvious but now that you started to watch him due to his outfit...

"Maker I don't care go change your outfit." You sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"What ? Commander I can just tug that back in don't worry, the restroom are really far you know." He protests as he already starts to readjust his top.

You just turn around to walk away, sitting on some couch fixed to the wall. Other soldiers are arriving and of course, Dameron is back by your sides.

"Here we go ma'am." He says as he turns around himself with a proud gaze, arms extended. "Is that better ?"

"Get out of my way soldier." You spit suddenly as you hit the counter with your palm.

It's your fault, you leave him too much space and now everyone watch you all the time. They all say things you don't hear clearly as you don't spend time with them, too busy with your duty to find time to do anything else. Poe Dameron is a sunshine for you but today it's just too much. So you let him walk away, his good mood vanished just like yours. He shouldn't act like a teenager. He is a grown up, a killer just like the rest of you all, everyone's life depends on his as well. Here it's a new base, with new people as well. You can't let him spread this image of you letting your favorite pilot dictating his own rules. It wouldn't be good for your squadron.

Poe is nowhere to be seen around the base for at least ten hours. You don't run after him and don't ask for help from your men as they are free to go wherever they want but now you are starting to feel guilty. You could have handle it much better, after all all of your soldiers depended on your unity. But after a few hours spent at talking at your fellow Commander from the second squadron present on the base, you notice this familiar mop of dark hair appearing in the crowd of the bar. You don't leave your seat, too busy with this boring Commander yet keep an eye on what Dameron is doing. An outfit matching the minimum required by the rules, his usual charming face taunting random people of different genders, his beautiful lips drinking from a glass and... wait there is something else than water available now ? Since when ?

After a quick excuse you go to the bar to ask for something as strong as possible and with no surprise you see this same Poe Dameron resting his elbow on the counter, his cheeks already heated from the alcohol he took the time to absorb.

"Good evening Commander." He says with an exceptionally intense gaze. "Does my outfit fit better for this occasion ?"

"Good evening soldier. It does." You confirm as you sit down by his side.

It is merely better than what he was wearing before, similar colors but at least without you getting distracted by all the things being obviously a part of his crotch. Yet you can't forget them now as you get to have a sip of your first alcohol beverage in ages.

"Finally something acceptable from you. Should I empty a whole bottle for this occasion ?"

"Go ahead ma'am." He smiles.

With all the loud laughs and conversations around you you still manage to focus on his face. For your defense it is hypnotizing, especially his eyes. They are so expressive, so rich in subtle nuances of brown under this intense artificial light.

"Are you defying your superior ?" You ask him with a raised eyebrow.

"The woman behind it." He admits with a smile. "I'd love to measure myself to her. Who knows what hides behind this title. The most talented Commander of the First Order being the best drinker of this part of the universe. The ruthless killer emptying both Rebel bases and bottles."

"Stop playing the poet Dameron. You're a man of action."

"Can't I be both ?"

You empty your first glass as you feel this bound thickening between you, this defiance you send him and that same defiance he sends you back. He is not afraid. You defy him, he defies you back, and this interaction creates this chain of sexual arousing you both feel. It never ceases, gets in your mind over and over again.

"You? A poet ?"

"You know I offered you that flower Commander, I wrote the poem from a while ago." He adds as he rests his head on his fist, his gaze dreaming. "I may not be a poet with words but I know how to make someone understand how I feel."

"You are bold and stupid. I'm your superior."

"I do think you are the one sending me the most obscene glares I have ever received."

You hope he is right as you order another glass, just like him. You do hope this glare shakes him to the bone as you eye him up and down.

"I am evaluating your outfit, soldier." You remind him with a grin. "Keep your arrogance out of this please."

"I am afraid I can't. How are you going to keep your eyes on me without it ?"

You laugh at his question. He knows perfectly well how handsome he is and how to play with it. You saw his eyebrows overreacting to make people laugh, his seductive glares, his fake sad faces morphing into some else in a conversation in a matter of seconds. He is skilled.

"I am confident you are going to find another way, Dameron. Like by doing some mistake for example."

"Would it still be a mistake of I do it on purpose to hear you scolding me in my helmet ?"

"You really have nothing to lose anymore ?" You ask with a chuckle as you get another drink just like him. "Now you are about to admit you used to love it after you arrived in this squadron."

"I did love it in a way. I just regret we don't make it sound more productive."

You raise an eyebrow as he empties his glass before ordering another one immediately after.

"Sound ? How do you want to make it sound more productive ?"

"Well from your perspective I look like the useless fun guy annoying you. I'm not a useless fun guy and I know you know it but after hearing it dozens of times it's... it's tough." He says with a grimace directed at his freshly refilled glass. "Like... for my mood you know. I know I could do better with you and the squadron and just obey. As I should, after all I enlisted to get more disciplined that if I had to end up in some spice or living being trafficking. And I love the adventures we get as pilots. Uh... sorry I forgot what I wanted to say."

You melt at this man already losing his composure, his fingers running through his messy hair as he excuses himself with a shy gaze. It's rare to see him losing his composure to let the actual Poe Dameron appearing there, more fragile.

"I'm sorry for hurting you soldier, but I am your superior. I lead our squadron at war. You have to follow the rules. You do it wonderfully in space and in the air but you disobey on purpose once on land. You're my best element but you waste your own potential just to try to impress me when you know it does the opposite."

"I like getting your attention." He says with a soft smile as you avoid his gentle eyes. "It's stronger than me. The first time I saw you I knew you were beautiful but didn't think much of it I was actually focused on our training. But the more I listened to you giving orders I just... I couldn't help myself."

You empty your second glass slowly under his intense gaze, your heart starting to beat faster than anticipated.

"Dameron. You are desperate."

"I am. I am." He confirms with a scoff. "I mean who hadn't noticed it yet ?"

"It's dangerous for you. What if we lose someone in the squadron ?"

"Like... one of us or another pilot from our crew ? In any case we risk our lives. This idea may make you be afraid of living your life fully, but personally I only want to live it more intensely."

This is it. That is what motivates him to no end. The fear of dying without enjoying his life. It stucks something in you and you keep your gaze on your glass as he orders another one for the both of you.

"Dameron you're going to empty the whole bar at this rate."

"Did you like that flower ?"

Finally you cross his gaze again. He wants his answer and his dreaming smile is both infuriating and charming. He is a desperate man. A hot one.

"I did." You finally admit as he regains his full confidence. "It was a beautiful one and as you said, it changes from sand. Sorry for harassing you with my hatred for that desert."

"You're even cuter when you don't scream at me."

It shouldn't affect you like that but you chuckle at this as your neck and face start to burn slightly. You can't control this smile forming by itself.

"How bold Dameron. How bold."

"I do think much bolder things than this Commander." He mutters as he stares at you. "You would definitely keep your attention on me."

You raise an eyebrow at this, your interest showing as this time he is the one eyeing up and down. Now animated by this curiosity and will to push limits further, you turn fully to him on your sit which doesn't stop him from undressing you with his eyes. He nibbles his bottom lip a bit as you spread your legs the slightest, your pants not stopping him.

"I have my attention on you soldier, as requested." You say with a smile as his pupils set back on your face.

"Are you going to punch me if I tell you I love how hot you look when you're confident ?"

"I'm always confident."

"Exactly. I aspire to be like you one day. But with more love for life than for rules."

"You won't remain a Commander for long then."

"If it's the price to pay, then I agree to pay."

You let him glaring at you without any embarrassment, curiosity and slight arousal replaced with full lust as he empties his other glass, his glare begging for anything. His forehead is covered in sweat due to alcohol and you dodge the flames he sends you by grabbing his wrist as he's about to order something else.

"You drank more than you should Dameron. Order some water you need it."

"Yes ma'am." He whispers with a hoarse voice and still turned to you.

This time he is the one spreading his legs as he gets more comfortable turned to you. As his attention is back on the droid serving him three glasses of water you see again this bump between his thighs. Still the a-lot-to-pack-and-unpack and nothing more lewd from him. It's been so long for you, maybe it would be good to get such an interesting guy and set your squadron and responsibilities on fire ? You like him, he's good-looking, he respects you, he's not too drunk and you neither... but maybe he's too much into you ? You don't want to hurt him he's a guy you appreciate for real.

"Something interesting Commander ?" He scoffs.

Maker you don't care much about getting caught. Not at all even especially when you see this hope and anticipation in his dark eyes.

"Follow me Dameron."

He does.

"Where ?" He asks eagerly.

"My quarters."

- - - - -

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

@salome-c @stevenngrant @lavenderluna10 @one-hell-of-a-disappointment @thecursivej @lady-targaryen @general-latino @harrys-tittie @whoyousworld

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Ray x Cmc

!!TW: Colorism, talk of it affecting mixed children and self image. I would like to be clear, these are based on personal accounts. My cmc’s looks are even based on mine from the past…minus the freckles. I tried to keep the content mild. I have also done my research for some parts.

Learning that his princess had a deep web of sticky insecurities herself made no sense to him. Ray couldn’t wrap his head around anything Uyu’s heart had spilled to him, gnawing on whatever was left of his already down to the nub fingernails. He grieved as he slowly learned that his elaborate idea of perfection incarnate tended to actually despise herself. He sunk further into his thoughts the more she happened to actually be his mirror.

Ray could not work…shame on him for being so slow these days. She filled his mind with a certain symphony that was too hard to tune out, the music drowning out his ability to slip easily into the world of ones and zeros. There he sat zombified in front of the blueish glow of the monitors, nothing in his head other than what she had whispered to him earlier. Her obsession with sunscreen and staying in shade while in the garden now clicked, and it caused him to fret to the point that he could not carry out his attacks on the red head. In his oh so very few moments of true peace, had she truly found none?

How can someone form hatred for the color of their own skin? How can someone who is so lucky to be blessed with freckles wish to run from their cause? Ray will admit he actually envied her…envied the way her skin wasn’t such a sickly shade, and that the sun had deemed her worthy enough to leave kisses upon her face. She was a sweet, deeply colored caramel apple puff pastry, and her freckles the dusting of powdered sugar which topped it all off. She looked like a drop of sunlight, and every day he wished he could be under the same sky long enough to look the same. Healthy. Even the golden ends of her hair were gifts from the sky above, soft to touch unlike his, fried from his life hidden in shadows outrunning his appearance. Her’s were faded natural highlights as she began locking herself indoors.

“I’m not a very pretty girl here in Korea, you know…someone as handsome as you could easily have gone for the ones with that porcelain skin color. Or the lack of blemishes…I get told I should remove my freckles a lot with those laser surgeries.”

Who was responsible for making her believe that what makes her untouchable in his eyes, made her ugly in her own? He’d torture and defile them for doing such evil to his world’s only beauty. But the shock he felt learning it was the whole of the outside world he had been so very far from his whole life?

Uyu explained in Korea, they did not even sell her shade of makeup. In India, her aunts would shame her for her tan. Pale is the beauty standard…his paleness that made him nauseous to stare at in front of the mirror was how so many outside yearned to look. And with her lack of connection to her Indian side because of her father, and inability to fit in with her Korean side because of her defining tan, she felt alone. She felt there was no where to belong except maybe the US, where she primarily lived and grew up. But even there, racism was alive and well in so many parts. She explained how odd it felt to belong to no roots because of mixed heritage, and also being raised in a contrasting culture from that of her parents.

Unlike him, she did remain positive after their talk. She explained that she was trying her all to get better, and that it was their job to make the world a better place with their understandings…but Ray could only further fantasize about one thing.

Uyu’s words confirmed his savior was right all along about the world…well, of course she was. He’d be sure to keep his princess locked away tightly, where he’ll make it his responsibility to personally ensure all damage is undone. His flower will just have to bloom underneath a glass dome of his own design, where the light from the sky can still meet her in their safe haven.

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

[animal-plant-or-rock-wumf]

Budgie Care

Alright, gang! Our animal of the week is the Budgie or parakeet. Those are the green or blue birds that you find at most pet stores. They’ve been one of the most popular pets in the United States for over 70 years!

There are actually two kinds of common commercially available parakeets. Those would be the European Parakeet, which is puffy and large, and the American Parakeet, which is sleeker and smaller. Though the species is originally from Australia, the export of wild-caught parakeets was outlawed in 1894, so all modern pet parakeets are descended from those in the care of British bird hobbyists.

They were introduced to the US in the 1920s but didn’t really pick up traction until the 1950s.

Part of their appeal is their lifespan and personality. They can live up to 15 years with proper care, and make for sweet, attentive companions if socialized properly.

It is recommended that budgies are kept in a cage that is 20 inches long by 12 inches wide by 18 inches tall, however, you should give them as much space as you can manage. Horizontal bars are preferable because it’s easier for them to climb. They should have a variety of perches with different heights and textures, and a number of toys to help with mental stimulation. Try to avoid synthetic fibers, as they are difficult to digest, and may cause health issues. They should also be provided chews, such as cuttlebone, which will help keep their beaks at a healthy size and provide calcium. 

Parakeets come in several colors, the most common being blue, green, yellow, and white, though private breeders can offer a wider variety. They typically have dark bands on their heads that fade after a few months. Their age and sex can be guessed from the color of their cere. That’s the skin over the top of their nose. Male budgies will have a blue cere, and the intensity of the color will indicate their age. Female budgies will have one that is pink, tan, or brown. The color will be recognizable after a few months.

Budgies require both times out of their cage and time to socialize. Birds, as you can imagine, enjoy flying. Even when they have a large enclosure, they do need time to stretch their wings and explore. You should have one room that is kept in a condition where it is safe for them to explore. You don’t want them eating something that could make them sick, or getting stuck somewhere!

Because they are flocking birds, they do require a lot of interaction. Many people who cannot meet their interaction needs simply invest in another budgie to keep their first company. The increased space requirements are an acceptable trade-off for the lower time requirements for some people.

They prefer to be in warmer climates- 70-75 degrees are preferable. However, you should keep their enclosure out of direct sunlight, as they lack the ability to cool themselves without help. Similarly, don’t put them in drafty areas or near the AC. If you have a fan, be sure to turn it off before letting your birds fly. They could get caught in it, no matter the size. Birds are curious and like to stick themselves in the weirdest places.

Budgies should be fed a well-rounded diet, not just seeds. While they do like seeds, the high-fat content in them can lead to health problems down the line. Many brands offer a pellet option, which provides a more well-rounded diet. Do some research on pellet diets offered in your local pet store to see which may be the best for you

As always, please do your own research before committing to a pet. I hope this helped you understand another amazing animal that could be your family’s new best friend!