#mfs after writing about outcasts and then bullying the outcasts

[d1shfandomz]

persona 5 had so much potential to be one of the greatest social commentaries of its decade in, hell, not even just in gaming and they fucking blew it by giving us fanservice of minors with gigantic tits and totally not pedophilic romance options as opposed to thematically poignant queer relationship options and you expect me to not be pissed off?? like ur kidding

[hanawrites404]

So @pinguwrites mentioned about the backstories of Cillianverse characters and I am gonna give some of my insight on them lol.

Also, disclaimer. In this post I'm only gonna include the characters whose movies I have completed. But as I see more movies, I'll add their characters in the next post like this. I won't include Jonathan Crane (because I strongly stick to the backstory that DC comics has provided) and Oppenheimer (it's obvious why).

Now that I have established this, let's gets started ✨

Neil Lewis

Watching The Detectives

Neil was born in a family containing a single soccer mum and a big sister who is at least seven years older than him. Neil was shy as a toddler but would be very invested into something once you give him a chance.

He didn't change much when he got to his school days. He had his fair share of friends and answered in the class like an average student. But what was special about him was that he had the most unique stories. When it came to show and tell or small story writing, no one could beat Neil in terms of creativity (but somehow he never got a prize because his grammar used to be horrible).

At highschool, he was definitely a target for bullying, but luckily his friends always defended him. I believe he met Lucien and Jonathan during highschool too. Neil was a comic + movie nerd and he would randomly start to speak out facts about it whenever he finds someone to talk to, and many didn't appreciate that so he was also sort of an outcast. But he didn't mind that because he had his small circle of friends.

Neil was again, average in his studies. But he was such a theatre kid. He never got the main role but he used to steal the show, even if this mf is acting as a tree. He was THAT talented. He has also participated in sports events but ends up chickening out in most of it. Until one day he practised hard with his sister for a match against the rival school and 'accidentally' won his school the baseball trophy. Neil's mom has a photo of him crying with a red face and holding the well-deserved trophy high in his arms. We love our crybaby.

Neil graduated from high school and went into a decent university where he took film studies as his major, despite his mom and sister wanting him to join something that would make him 'rich and popular' like sports or music.

College Neil was an absolute blast. He had his own style, and he had a second-hand guitar from one of his seniors. He used to drive his sister's old motorcycle to college and he also learnt driving a car from her. Neil met Denise during his final year and after graduation, Neil with help of his sister and his friends opened the famous Gumshoe video store.

Jackson Rippner

Red Eye

Okay, for this. I really want to thank @/pinguwrites Jackson Rippner bot. It literally provided a very cool backstory that makes so much sense for someone like our thin-eyebrowed assassin. So I'm gonna copy paste some of it here + add some lines of my own.

Jack's parents were drug addicts and he used to live in a slum filled with junkies and small-scale criminals where no one had any honor or sympathy for one another. So the neighbourhood was always filthy and toxic. He has seen murders and robberies at such a young age. And poor boy had no choice but to learn how to fight and protect himself.

Things only got worse as he grew older. He had to join a gang because a child living alone in slums was as a good as dead. The gang would provide him food, clothes and shelter in exchange of stealing, killing and burning houses. He hated everything he did but he had to do it for surviving.

After years of being a criminal for his whole teenhood, he decided to quit it and do something good for once. So he joined the military. But nothing was good there either. With strict routine and rules, and the other recruits bullying him for his past. He used to get into a lot of fights with his peers and he had developed quite a temper there.

Everywhere was war and destruction. Never once that he was spared from witnessing violence and gore that Jack had gone numb from all of it. From feeling disgust and anger, he now loves watching people suffer, especially if he is causing their pain.

He left the military to start everything again, but he couldn't get any ordinary job because he didn't have any formal education. However, he was noticed by a secret association of assassins and contract killers. The agency took Jack in and taught him all and everything which is needed to become a spy.

Also, I highly believe Jackson Rippner is not even his real name. It would be something else that his parents used to call him but he would rather have someone use his alias than his birth name (it brings bad memories).

Jim

28 Days Later

Jim didn't have anything crazy going on with him (at least before the apocalypse lol). He has had a loving family who supported him throughout his life. But what's mysterious and wierd about him is that he was an ordinary bicycle courier man, *yet* he managed to sabotage what, 10-12 soldiers single-handedly?! That ain't male hormones dude, that's something else 😭

So, I at least think that he used to do something more before becoming a delivery man. Perhaps something like a sports player, or a security guard of some complex or maybe he was still a courier man! But of more heavier objects like crates of fruits or something. But one thing is for sure is that he was a guy who would rather do odd jobs than a 9-5.

Also, canonically the director of the movie has described him to be a soft-looking man with a body strong as an iron, and that's so real y'all. Jim throughout the movie was underestimated until the end where he ended up becoming the hero of the whole show. And you know what, we love that.

Also, I don't think he ever had a girlfriend before. And Jim gives strong virgin vibes yet knows where the clit is.

Jim

The Delinquent Season

Jim was a simple boy. He also didn't have much crazy going on with his childhood too. He was quite a smart student and a straight-A kid. His parents were strict regarding his grades and behaviour but they raised him normally. He had his fair share of playing around, partying etc. But nothing hardcore, and Jim doesn't like it that way anyway.

He got into a reputed college away from home and must have studied something sophisticated like law or psychology. Jim in college only focused on his studies and didn't have many friends. He was quiet and light academia student who spent most of his time in library or alone in his desk at his dorm. He calls his parents once a week and that was it.

He has worked from home since the start and met Danielle after two years. Then a year after he married her and had kids.

Raymond Leon

In Time

Ray is almost similar to Jackson in this case. He was born in timezone 12, also known as the ghetto. Where one minute is like a year for the people who live there. Ray's parents worked at the factory and had died quite early in his life due to a hazard that occured in their workplace. So he was adopted by his uncle who ran a pawn shop. He was a great role model and a second father to Ray. His uncle's dream was to see the world outside timezone 12. And naturally, Ray took on that.

He helped his uncle to run the shop and he used to venture out and doing odd jobs to bring some time. He also learnt how to do trade and gamble as it was one of the main sources of income in timezone 12. Ray was given basic education by his uncle and other skills such as cooking, driving. His uncle had made Ray into a fine and independent man, and for his 25th birthday, his uncle gave him a handgun.

Until one day when Ray was coming back from his work, he finds his uncle dead and bleeding on the floor. Not only his hard-earned time was stolen, the thieves had stabbed him in the chest five times. Ray was devastated and mourned for his only guardian's death. He blamed himself for not being there for him when he needed him the most. But what burnt inside him more was anger and revenge.

With all the skills he had gained while being under his uncle, he was able to track down the thieves. They were not some ordinary robbers but an infamous gang who like to steal from people with a lot of time. He has seen them in the gambling bars many times and it was time to end their reign. Ray had managed to outsmart and kill everyone in the group. He genuinely felt disgusted but also satisfied murdering them.

A few days later, Ray was approached by the head of the Timekeepers who had tracked him. They detected time being lost but not stolen. Ray had not stolen even one second after killing the group. It made the timekeeper intrigued by the young man. Ray was offered to work under him, and that's how Ray got out of the timezone 12 forever.

Robert Capa

Sunshine

The sun god™ himself. Our beloved Robert was a prodigy in science. Since his childhood, he had always wanted to see a proper sunrise from the horizon of Sydney. He helped his family with the winter while also planning out ways that he can bring out sunny days like it used to.

His room was filled with posters of Icarus I and its crew members. He wanted to be like them but also didn't want to be like them. He wanted to be the reason humanity would feel pure sunshine on their skin but he also didn't want to fail and just disappear when they were *this* close to revive the sun. He opted physics as his passion and had dreams of how earth used to be before it went into the phase of eternal winter.

During his training for venturing into space and fulfilling their mission, Robert was quite determined too. He got acquainted with the rest of the crew members but he usually kept everything to himself. He was only focused on bringing the sun back and returning to see his parents and sister.

I also think Robert has synesthesia. He has a vivid imagination and can sense colours and sounds at the same time. That would really explain his last scene.

Anyways, that's all for my rant. Thank you for listening. Part 2 will come soon once I have watched enough movies.

[nadiawrites14]

whagt the hell nadia has a creepypasta oc???

its october mf

wc: 3.6k

not very well written and a bit of a hot mess but still love this tall king <3

There was this kid at my school. 

There was a kid at my school, and I just really need to talk about him. I think it’s something I need to put out there. I am talking about it because anyone and everyone I talk to seems to never remember his name, or him in general, but I can’t stop thinking about his face.

I was never popular at school, and my brother always outshined me in that fact. He was a cheerleader, and I was his nerdy, unattractive sister. His friends were never friendly with me, and it wasn’t easy for me to make new ones, so I mostly kept to myself. Besides a few nice classmates, I was a bit of a loner, and this led me to Charlie.

Charlie Nguyen had always attended school in my city. I knew of him — we’d never actually talked, besides nearly 10 years of attending school together. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone really talked to Charlie. He was always there, a lingering presence, and seemed to get on better with teachers than he did with other kids. Despite both of us being outcasts, we never interacted, right up until recently. He just tapped my shoulder in the hallway once, shyly staring at his feet and asking if I would like to eat lunch with him in the library. Despite his crooked posture and timidness, he towered over me. I was only as tall as his shoulder. I had nothing to lose from it, really — it was more preferable to spending lunch with Ernest and his friends, so I accepted cheerily which made him very happy. 

Talking to him, I was shocked at how much I missed out on by never bothering to strike up a conversation. He was funny, sweet, and a hell of a lot more intelligent than I had believed. I’d often seen my teachers slip back 70s and 60s to him, but in one of the library’s secluded corners, we discussed politics and art and existentialism. I don’t even know how we got into talking about philosophy and what defines the self, but by the time the bell rang, my lunch was not eaten and I was much more enlightened than I was before. It was like a lightning bolt. I told him I’d be glad to eat lunch with him tomorrow as well, and he seemed very appreciative of it. As I headed to my last class, I realized I forgot to ask for his number, but decided I’d ask the next day.

Something about Charlie was just so alluring. I didn’t know much about him at all, even after our daily lunches began — he was 17, from Fresno, and his mother passed when he was young. Half-Vietnamese, half-white, and he spoke broken Spanish and loved to draw cartoons in the margins of his notes. I found myself chatting with him through text past my bedtime, where we’d discuss our lives, our academics, our interests. One thing Charlie and I really bonded over was our shared interest in both Shakespeare and horror movies. He’d been enamored since he read Romeo and Juliet his freshman year, but Hamlet was his favorite. At the time, I was peeling through AP Literature with straight A’s and was much more concerned with Tolstoy and Plath and Camus, but his fascination with the bard was certainly something I could bond with him over.

I prefer the comedies, though. Midsummer’s Night, Much Ado, As You Like It. Charlie’s interest in the tragedies ranged from the general to the obsessive, where he would produce sermons and sermons of how much the words and writings spoke to him. Considering how much death was in Hamlet and Macbeth, his other favorite, it concerned me, but I passed it off as nothing unique. After all, he was also a fan of slashers and all things horror. He loved a good scare. Whenever I tried to coax him into visiting his house for a movie night or a sleepover, he’d defer, and I would glumly accept the sentence. Once I switched the proposed setting from his house to mine, he gladly accepted.

Ernest was a little bit less enthusiastic about my liaisons with Charlie. They had gotten into scuffles before. Ernest got a very stern slap on the wrist for pulling on Charlie’s crutch in the hall once, freshman year. I told him a week in advance, just so he knew to vacate the house the next Friday and allow me and what he so lovingly called ‘the creepy asshole’ to watch a movie together. Ernie huffed and puffed about it the whole week and it really began to get on my nerves. The entire week, he bugged me and demanded just what I saw in that freak. I excused it as brotherly overprotection, but as Friday grew closer, I started to realize that it was fear.

When he dropped me off that morning, I confronted him in the car. “Why are you so scared of Charlie?”

Ernie scoffed. “I’m not scared of Charlie.”

“You sound pretty paranoid when you’re dropping a curfew on me and telling me to not get too close or talk too much.”

“Well, mom and dad are out of the house, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Charlie is a freak. He’s... creepy. I can’t place my finger on what’s up with him. Esme, just tell me, have you ever left the room with a splitting headache when you’re with him? Has your phone ever started bugging out? Hm?”

I thought back. Well, a few lunches in, I did have such an awful headache I had to excuse myself from class to go try and throw my guts up in the bathroom. It wasn’t that, though, and it had subsided by the end of the school day. The back of my skull would sometimes pound and contract, but I didn’t think it was anything, reducing it to pollution or mold in the school. It always ebbed when I left the school. For my phone, it would get a little buggy. Just a little buggy, though! I had no reason to think it was Charlie’s fault! It’s not like we live in a world where that shit happens. He’s not some psychic, he’s a weird, lonely kid with trauma. That’s it. And I let Ernie know that by screaming an expletive and slamming the door on him, spending the rest of the school day with a headache tenfold worse than the one I had all those weeks ago. By lunchtime, my head was pounding so fiercely I almost slipped and fell down the stairs. 

Charlie noticed, and asked what was wrong, a worried look on his face. I asked if we could postpone, and went on to talk about how awful my headache was. He seemed very disappointed about it but nodded and accepted with a smile. I felt so guilty about it, but it was quickly absolved, because when I walked out of the library with him I must have blacked out in the hallway. Charlie and one of the other teachers brought me to the nurse’s office, where my mother brought me home as I moaned in the backseat.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. A literal blur behind my crowded vision and the blood rushing in my ears, but I do remember awaking in the darkness of my room at around 1:00 AM. The red light on my digital clock said so. I awoke to the sound of something like water boiling, or when a witch’s brew bubbles inside of a movie or cartoon. It was bubbling, dripping, wet — but when I pulled back my curtain, everything appeared dry. No rain, not even any clouds. The stars were quite clear, due to the fact that it was a new moon. Despite that lingering sound of bubbling and popping, I was able to fall back asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but when I came downstairs the next morning, my parents (and an over-concerned Ernie) were adamant that I stay home all weekend. I accepted that the next two days would be filled with boring movie binges and cups of hot soup and tea, and I plopped back under the covers. My head began to pound every time I checked my phone. I noticed Charlie had sent me a few texts, but I didn’t have the heart nor the energy to check what he had said. 

Sunday is when things actually began to get weird. The batteries in the remote for my TV had gone kaput, and I remembered that Ernie usually kept the same type in his desk for his old lamp. It was easier to walk across the hall to his room than down two flights of stairs into the basement. I knocked, and when there was no response, I entered. The lights were off. This was strange, because Ernie always loved to keep lights on. My parents constantly griped about seeing his outline in the window as late as 11, either from the strip LED lights that lined his room, the fairy lights, the candles, or the overhead light. I flipped the light switch and rubbed my eyes, as it was the most brightness I had seen in the past two days. Beginning to feel a tad nauseous, I took a seat at Ernie’s desk, trying to recall which drawer he kept his batteries in. As I searched, though, I noticed one drawer was shut from the inside, most likely from a heavyweight.

I should have just kept it shut. I shouldn’t have pressed. I should have gotten what I needed and left it alone, left my golden boy brother’s life completely alone. Then I could live knowing he didn’t have any dark secrets despite being a little bit of a bully and just a tad too standoffish. But, being the curious girl I was, I kept pushing until the drawer gave in.

Composition notebooks. The white smudges across the notebook covers had been filled in with dashes of pen, each one meticulously filled in. All five of the notebooks had this pattern. Blacked out, no name on the lines or any signage, otherwise normal in appearance. By that point, I should have known, but I kept going. I was once again shrouded in that same allure I felt around Charlie, the strange sense of being drawn in. When I opened the first notebook, I had to stop myself from making a sound. Every single page. Every single page in that notebook was filled with scratches in multicolored ballpoint pen, pleads and hypotheses and prayers. Drawings, maps, entries. The pages were thin from being worn down so deeply with the frantic pen marks, and many of the pages had been torn through from the intensity of the writing. My nausea grew and I began to feel my head pounding again. But I just couldn’t stop. Trying to process those frantic words written and dated and laden with tables and records and drawings was like trying to decipher hieroglyphics. Particularly, there was one symbol and one familiar figure that was retained throughout the notebook’s contents. An O with an X slashed through it. It reminded me of how I marked my bubbles on Scantrons, one line through, one line through, shade in the bubble. And the figure. The figure. A faceless man, a white oval of a face atop a suit and tie, and what looked to be tentacles pouring out from the sides. 

I was snapped out of my trance by the sound of footsteps rising up the stairs. I dumped the notebooks back in my drawer, besides the fourth one, which I tucked in the back of my shorts and underneath my sweatshirt. Ernie looked at me weirdly as I exited his room, but I offered a weak smile and held up the pack of batteries. He nodded, and I disappeared back into my room.

It fascinated me, and it scared me. When the oncoming headache and nauesa had left, I scanned over all his words and entries, observing each of his drawings and sentences and deconstructing like a true AP student should know how to do. I always assumed Ernie was going to parties when I heard his window open and shut or when he warned me he wouldn’t be home until late, not investigating supernatural entities in our affluent suburban town and measuring sound waves through apps he’d downloaded onto his phone. I hadn’t known Ernie was this brilliant. It took me about two hours of reading and rereading that singular notebook until I had connected the dots.

A few years ago, our cousin Ronnie disappeared. Ronnie and Ernie were best friends, close like brothers, and were inseparable at each and every family gathering. What I knew for certain about Ronnie is that he also had a particular fascination with ghost-hunting. He went out on frequent escapades with his girlfriend and her brother with some handy professional equipment in the most ‘supernatural’ bits of California. Most of my family excused it as a strange hobby that didn’t subtract from Ronnie’s successful business career, not until all three of the ghost-hunting squad disappeared without a trace while investigating the Lassen National Forest. No DNA, no bodies, no signs or directions or a reason were ever found. Even their car and all their expensive equipment, all of Ronnie’s research, had vanished into thin air. It seemed he had become one of those ghost stories he so adored to pursue. It didn’t hit me that hard, as I hadn’t known Ronnie all that well, but I hadn’t factored in how much of Ernie’s personality had changed since the disappearance. He had become more standoffish with his rivals, more competitive with his athletics, more jumpy and paranoid.

I should have known by the way he looked at Charlie. I assumed it was drama I had missed out on or the pure perils of high school hierarchies. But I had never noticed how hateful, how accusatory it really was. For some reason, I was certain that Ernie had it in his head that all of these things were connected. The Faceless Man, the disappearance of our beloved Ronnie Halaifinoua, and the outcast at my school who was seemingly responsible for bugged out phones and splitting headaches. It made no sense, but at the same time, it was like a missing piece to a puzzle that I simply had to snap into place. I hid the notebook in my schoolbag, and went back on Monday armed with a bottle of aspirin and comfortable clothes, ready to confront Charlie.

At lunch, I took two aspirin and handed him the notebook wordlessly. We sat in silence as he slowly peered over the pages, absorbing the information behind blank eyes without a single sound. When he reached the final page, he set it down and asked, “Did you write this?”

“Ernie did.”

Charlie sniggered at that and crossed his legs. “Well, he’s onto me, now, isn’t he?”

I stared at him, slack-jawed, feeling duped. “You’re— you’re—“

“What, supernatural? I’d like to think so,” he gave me a mellow look. “Ah… you may want to take another aspirin. Watch this.”

I popped one and I watched. He closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. The lights above us flickered off, then on, then off again, before the lights reignited. Charlie opened his eyes, suddenly breathless, and nodded. “I can’t… usually do it with that much control. It needs work.”

I slammed my hands down on the notebook, my mind barreling at 100 miles per hour with a smattering of questions in tow. “Everything. Tell me everything. Now.”

Charlie folded his hands and gestured to the aspirin. I shook my head and pulled the bottle to my side. He cleared his throat, steadied his gaze, and began. “I wouldn’t call myself willingly supernatural by any means. I did not ask to be this way. I have been tossed through more foster homes in 17 years than I can count on my hands, and I would give anything to give up this life. I hate living a life where I’m unable to control my abilities. I don’t want to hurt others, I don’t want to do this, but sometimes it gets out of hand. Lucky for you,” he said. “Some people will gain immunity once exposed to it long enough.”

“Gain immunity to what?”

“It has a lot of names depending on the universe you’re in. They mostly call it the slender sickness, but you can call it the static sickness, faceless-man-itis, whatever. You do you. Headaches, nausea, hallucinations. Malfunctioning electricity. Static. The whole thing.”

“So it is you.”

“Always has been. Well, not totally. Faceless Man? The Faceless Man, as your brother says, he may or may not have touched my mother with his hand, therefore touching me as well and handing me a degree of abilities that I drag with me. It’s my cross, Esme. I’ve been avoiding his gaze for the past 16 years and have always managed to just be out of his reach, but my powers are getting stronger and it’s all getting more and more out of hand. I needed to go to someone.”

“Does he have a name? An actual one.”

“Many names. The Operator, the Business Man, Chernobog. Apparently, now, the Faceless Man. And I guess he’s my parental figure now. I’ve been chilling with him more often. Crazy dude, gotta say,” Charlie said, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs. “Crazy, crazy things.”

I looked at my hands, unsure of what to feel. “Did he kill my cousin?”

Charlie’s face went slack. “He’s killed many, many, people, but I don’t have control over what he does.”

We sat in silence for a long moment until Charlie spoke again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

My heart began to pound. “Ernie’s after you,” I said, running a hand through my hair and letting it fall over my face. “I think he might try and hurt you.”

“So… movie night is postponed indefinitely, then,” he replied.

I grinned sadly at him. “Don’t make me laugh, this is serious. I don’t want you to be harmed.”

His arms dropped to his side, and he smiled at me. He smiled in a way that drew me back in all over again. “Esme, be here tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

He vanished back out into the hall. I chose not to follow him. But, for the first time, I had a surprising lack of a headache, and I don’t think it was because of the aspirin. 

That night, I slipped the notebook back into Ernie’s drawer. I think he may have figured it out, though, because when we bumped into each other on the stairs, we stared at each other for a good minute saying nothing. I believe it was my way of telling him which side I was on, because when he surrendered his gaze he slammed the door shut behind him and I heard rummaging in his room. I walked to school the next morning.

When I came to lunch the next day, Charlie was already waiting for me. He handed me a gift bag. “It’s a present,” he said. “For you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I’m moving. You might never see me again.”

“Oh, Charlie…”

“I say might. Might. There’s a chance we will meet again. Perhaps in another lifetime or in another universe. We can figure it out, alright? Alright.”

I shared my lunch with him, half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and we toasted to his new life with our milk cartons. When we left the library that day, our pinkies were interlocked. As he turned to go to class, I pulled him back, and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll miss you,” I said. 

He hugged me. It was like hugging one of those plasma balls where your hair stands up when you touch it. I had just stuck my fingers in a socket, but when I pulled back, all I could see were Charlie’s grateful, glowing eyes. “I’ll miss you too. Goodbye, Esme. Goodbye.”

My hair on my arms was still standing up and my cheeks were dark with color. I had a mark on my pinkie from where it touched his.

Since that day, I haven’t seen Charlie Nguyen. Ernie is still doing tests and taking entries though they become more inconsistent and confusing each and every day. I have an idea of who’s altering his readings. The present Charlie gave me, though, might hold some importance for me in the future. It’s a key without something to unlock, a piece of quartz, his copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet with all his annotations in the margins, and a pair of earrings with ghosts on them. Quartz conducts electricity. I remember learning that in class. I always keep it in my pocket now. When I ask my teachers about him, they seem confused, as do the other students. Ernie and I have seemed to make a silent pact as to not discuss the matters of the supernatural. I think he’s looking for Charlie. He’s looking for anything that will bring him closer to the truth.

I feel farther to the truth than ever before, but I know I cannot be far from it. It’s a matter of time. Ernie has begun to have headaches lately.

[taehcns-blog]

henlo everyone !!!!!!!!!! my name is clove, i’m eighteen, use he/him pronouns, & i’m your resident boy group enthusiast™ hittin’ the tags to bring you my precious angel hwan taehan ! he’s genuinely a mf puppy and all he wants to do is sip on lattes, wear cute clothes, & stare at boys bc he’s waaay too awkward & innocent to approach one whoops !! either way, you can read more about him below so have fun & if you wanna plot lmk !!!!!

( tw. ) ─── depression. death. homophobia. underage sex. typing errors.

001. ooookay gang, this is gonna be v messy and i apologize in advance, but i wanna get this up so i can start writing with all of you sweetie pies, kapeesh ??? anyway ─── taehan was born in the jinhae-gu district of changwon city, south korea. his parents owned and operated a restaurant in the area for 8 years prior to his birth, and even after he was born, the two of them kept their business up and running for much longer !!!! he spent lots of time becoming acquainted with customers, their children, and being almost the face™ of the restaurant, and he adored all of the attention he got ! he wasn’t a shy kid, and often made friends v easily so he was well-liked, and his parents felt almost too lucky to have a son as handsome, sweet, and friendly as he was !!!!

002. however, as he got a lil older, his family was beginning to realize that he was different. unlike most of his friends growing up, he was clearly a lot more feminine than them, and he loved things that not many little boys did at his age. instead of working on the family car with his father, he much preferred to bake things with his mother. he liked playing with dolls, his favorite color was pink, and whenever the neighborhood boys and him would play, he’d always taken on the role of the princess, or the mother, or the ‘girlfriend’ whenever they’d get involved with all of that. both mom and dad kinda shrugged all that off as a phase and didn’t necessarily wish to change their child in anyway ─── after all, he was their pride and joy, so to them, he was still v perfect ... however, it wasn’t like that for lots of others.

003. all of the people that once adored him would now try to ruin all the fun he had, and his parents were p much pissed about it tbh. whenever he’d be running about the restaurants with his dolls, some customers would take them away from him and say that dolls were for girls, or that pink was a girl color, etc. and it began to leave a sour taste in all of their mouths. taehan was beginning to question literally EVERYTHING bc like, he had never once been told that he acted weird or like a girl before ... and it kinda fucked with him ??? like what did that even mean ya feel ??? it was then when he began to ask his parents tons of questions about how he acted or how he was naturally, and they had a hard time explaining to him that some people were just mean and didn’t understand him and that helped him feel better about all of it, but apart of him after that always felt weird. 

004. in school, he thought he’d thought that he’d make tons and TONS of friends bc everyone seemed to like him around the restaurant and his neighborhood. he got along well with girls, but lots of the boys were mean to him; calling him names, treating him bad, and overall, making him feel even more like an outcast than he already did. whenever he’d go home and tell his parents about what was going on school, they would do their best to talk to his teachers, and the principal, but none of them really did anything to help the situation. however, after years and years of him enduring all this bullying, his family decided it’d be best to just relocate elsewhere. their restaurant wasn’t doing too well in the area anymore, and they wanted bigger, better things, so they packed up all their things and moved to seoul, which is where his mother was from initially, and he was excited to be near his grandma, who he always had a wonderful relationship with !!!!!!

005. however, on the drive over there, his family was involved in a car accident that, unfortunately, ended up killing his father. sick with grief, his mother, and himself, didn’t think that life would ever be the same. their move to seoul was now in a different light ─── instead of setting their sights on bigger, brighter things, the two of them moved in with his grandmother and built themselves a new life from scratch. his mother worked the dry cleaning and seamstress business that his grandmother had owned for p much all of her life, and it was a rough time all around tbh. although still a resilient child, he longed to see his dad once again, but he knew that that would never, ever happen... and it made him v sad. his mom never really bounced back from all of it, and even after years had passed, she’s still grieving in her own way. however, life went on, and things got better, but with age came a ton more complications in taehan’s life ... and he often longed for the time things were simpler when he was with his mom and dad at the restaurant in jinhae-gu.

006. in middle school, he was often a wallflower and an outcast, and many of his peers didn’t necessarily feel the need to hangout with him, and it sent him into a bit of a downward spiral. once puberty hit, he began to understand why so many people thought of him to act like a girl in lots of ways. he’d look at boys and stare at them longer ; often liking their appearances and figuring out that girls didn’t make him feel that way whatsoever. he’d often talk to his mom about it, and she said it was normal, and that nothing was weird. she had a good friend when she was younger who liked other men, and she was understanding of all of that. even though at home he felt safe, he became worried that others would bully him if they ever found out the things that were on his mind, so he never confided the truth about himself to anyone ever. he didn’t want his life to be ruined, or to be embarrassed. however, in high school, things seemed to look up for him... but not for long lol rip.

007. he met a boy that he like high-key had a crush on ... and out of the blue, the two of them began to form some sort of friendship. none of it was too serious or whatever. they were kids, and they were just having fun and stuff. however, the more time they spent with one another, the more that taehan was FALLING for him real hard and like ..... all he could think about was the other boy, and he wanted to be around him all the time, and he’d get v jealous whenever he’d choose other friends over him, etc. and it all get low-key messy. so, he asked his mother’s advice and she told him that it may be best to tell his friend how he felt, so the next day, he did just that... but it didn’t end well at all. see, at first his friend said he felt the same way, and one thing led to another and they began to kiss and mess around... however, his friend had his webcam on while they were in his room and recorded everything ... and it got around the school and his friend was exposed as a total snake bc all of this was a dare from his other friends. i hope that made sense lol. needless to say, taehan was totally MORTIFIED and refused to go to school after that ... and his mother felt v bad

008. after that, he spiraled into a horrible depression ... and his mom sent him to a therapist that she’d been seeing for the last few years, and he was prescribed an anti-depressant. the first month on the meds were absolute hell, and his therapist was there to guide him all through it ... but once that trial period was over, they helped level him out a lot ... and he knew there were lots of things he still needed to get over from his past and his present, but he liked that he didn’t feel like ending it all whenever he got into his depressive episodes. to this day, he still takes his meds and sees a therapist, and he’s glad for that. he switched schools after that and felt a lot better, making more friends, and graduating with lovely grades to bring him to his loving and supportive family !!!!! now, he’s going to college and studying business, much like his father, and hopes to reopen the restaurant that his family had at one point in time ... as well as maybe venture into the world of fashion. 

009. he’s still living at home with his mom and his grandmother, and they love him to bits, but whenever he saves some money, he does wanna try living with a roommate or by himself to see what all of that’s about !!!!!! he’s just a simple boy going through life and figuring his shit out, y’know ???

( connections. ) ─── lots of friends tbh. they can be whoever. he trusts women more, obvs, but he’ll be happy with any male friends, too. they’ll help kinda bridge the gap of men he has in his life. potential romantic interest. pls you’ll give me all the fluffy feels that i need to BREATHE ok. this can start however and we can build it up from scratch, or have them be friends that slowly fade into a couple idek. i just neeeeed it. the dude that fucked him over in hs. this could be ANGST city but i kinda want it if anyone’s down lol. a female friend he may have used for a beard at one point / bff. c’mon... think of the CUTENESS. they can be v protective of one another and affectionate with each other, and they’re basically soulmates, but they’re in no way attracted to each other so they’re just bffs. anything else tbh hmu with any ideas !!!!!!!