#nobody knows about this movie except the poles

[plexiglassonion]

Hey who wants to see the strange communist-polish version of love me do from Yesterday (1985)?

[sophieinwonderland]

Science, and The Lie of Certainty

When you were a child, you probably learned in school what a dinosaur was. You probably learned about their habitats. You probably have seen their pictures in your textbooks.

Not to mention seeing them in movies like Jurassic Park, The Land Before Time, The Good Dinosaur, etc.

Except thinking about what dinosaurs look like, you probably realize that they have changed. Our understanding of what they most likely look like has changed. And in the media that we consume, the dinosaurs look differently today than they did 30 years ago.

Even in media, the dinosaurs depicted in The Good Dinosaur look different from what we saw in Jurassic Park.

As children, you were probably certain about what dinosaurs look like. They're in books, after all!

Maybe you still feel a certainty today. Maybe you think that the new more hairy and feathery dinosaurs that we would see in modern images are what they actually look like and this is going to stay the same and never change.

So allow me to inform you that, unfortunately, your certainty is misplaced.

The truth is, even as much as we know about dinosaurs today, we will probably never know exactly what they looked like. There are some things that just don't fossilize and won't be preserved.

We can guess at their habitats, at their behavior, and scientists can get a whole lot right.

But we will probably never have textbooks that will 100% portray what a dinosaur looked like.

And this is pretty sad to me. Because I like to know the answers to questions. I want to understand the natural world as much as possible. I would love to be able to see what a dinosaur actually looked like, be able to observe one up close... Preferably without getting eaten.

But some things just aren't possible.

There is no fault in admitting that.

But there is fault in clinging to a present idea of what a dinosaur looks like.

To pretend like science has all of the answers. That the popular theories about what dinosaur behavior might have been like is 100% confirmed. When in reality, there's a good chance that our understanding of them might change dramatically in the next 20 years, 50 years, and 100 years. And even a century later, we still won't be able to know everything.

There's a fantastic paleoart book you may have heard of called All Yesterdays that presents alternatives for how dinosaurs may have looked based on recent findings and some creative liberties in some cases.

One example of this is the Leaellynasaura. This is what this dinosaur would have looked like according to Wikipedia:

All Yesterdays presents an alternative possibility though based on the same skeleton.

This is dramatically different from what we see in the first image. But they give pretty solid reasoning for these liberties.

As seen before with Hypsilophodon, many small plant-eating dinosaurs will have their popular images greatly revised thanks to new discoveries of social behaviour and integument. Instead of looking like two-legged iguanas, these animals will have to be re-imagined with the extra possibilities offered by furry bodies and communal living habits. Here is one more small ornithischian re-interpretation, this time featuring Leaellynasaura. This dinosaur was discovered in Australia, where it lived during Early Cretaceous times, about one hundred and ten million years ago. At that time, Australia was located close to the Earth's geographic south pole. Although its climate was possibly not as cold as today's Antarctic, the axial tilt of our planet meant that Cretaceous Australia did not receive direct sunlight for long periods of time, and almost certainly experienced sub-zero temperatures. Aside from being a polar dinosaur, Leaellynasaura was also extraordinary for its immensely long tail, which was almost three times as long as its body. Nobody knows why Leaellynasaura had such a long tail, or what it used it for. Theories range from the tail being used as a climbing aid, a sexual and social display feature, or a long, shaggy “scarf” that the dinosaur wrapped around itself as protection from the cold. It has even been suggested that the tail aided the animal in swimming! Drawing on these facts, we reconstructed Leaellynasaura as a rotund furball that scurried peacefully about in the polar forests of Australia's past. We imagined its long tail as a thin, signalling "flagpole" that helped it identify and keep close to members of its herd. No doubt some people will find this reconstruction preposterous, and perhaps they will be right. However, we felt that not enough dinosaurs were reconstructed as "cute" beasts, whereas in nature, polar animals can look quite pulchritudinous under layers of fat, muscle, fur and other insulation.

Later on in the book is a section entitled All Todays which, to really drive the points home about how little we understand about how dinosaurs may have looked, tries to imagine how future paleo-artists might interpret creatures who exist today based on the same errors we've made.

For example, going with the theme of how fat doesn't fossilize, someone from the future might make this sort of reconstruction of a common modern animal:

Alternatively, perhaps swans could be reconstructed as preadory wingless monsters.

And for the faults of assuming all dinosaurs were scaly in the past, it could be equally dangerous to assume that now that we've discovered some with fur or feathers that we should extrapolate to all dinosaurs.

Such extrapolations could lead to fallacious assumptions, like how a future paleontologist might assume that because rats had fur, the same must be true for iguanas.

There are so many more examples in this book that I would love to share and discuss because it's just fantastic.

But I have to end this post at some point.

So let me just bring this back to the main point. Which is that we know very little. The more you learn, the more you realize how little we actually know for certain.

Certainty of science is often a lie.

As true as this is about paleontology, it's true of a lot of other fields too. It's true of psychology, of history, of neuroscience, of biology, of astronomy. While there is a lot that we do know, there's a lot more that just ends up being our best guesses.

And that's okay.

It's okay to accept that we still have so much more to learn about the world around us.

This is something that should be embraced.

There is safety in the comfort of the lie of certainty. But it is a lie. It's a cozy blanket that was weaved around us when we were children and learning about the world, convincing us that we had all the answers when we don't by covering our heads to the larger world outside the blanket.

And while pulling off that blanket and realizing that we don't know everything is scary, we NEED to pull it off to be able to acknowledge that we have room to learn and grow.

We need to be able to proudly say, "I don't know, and that's okay because it means I have more to learn!"

So please keep learning and keep questioning everything!

[munsster]

may i gently request MORE kat-stratford-esque reader with an enemies to lovers with billy, please?

10 things i hate about billy hargrove headcanons

A/N: ur so right anon. the urge to word vomit all about grungy, stubborn billy and his grungy, stubborn s/o

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

Warnings: 10 things i hate about you au, two assholes in love, enemies to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, established relationship, arguing, cursing (cuz i cant control myself around expletives), minor slut-shaming

the story the headcanons

before the whole ‘being bribed’ ordeal, you two knew each other

well, knew of each other

you both had reputations and you were both pretty good at upholding them

you heard the buzz about the new guy from california and his nice ass and his loud music

and he heard about the chick who used to be a popular girl (and a slut, he heard) and then became a loner

so yeah you both had your fortified walls and your differences and your social norms to keep track of

however,,,,,

you’re both also smart enough to know the other is bullshitting immediately after actually having a conversation

he couldn’t wrap his head around why you isolated yourself

after all, you used to be cool (i mean, he heard you got pretty close with harrington more than once. that’s gotta count for something)

and you couldn’t wrap your head around why anyone cares about his ass (no matter how nice it may be)

tldr; the only things you knew about each other came from someone else

also tldr; recipe for disaster

then he’s forced to speak to you and vice versa—yadda yadda—and sure he’s not some jackass stoner and you’re not some shut-in vampire

and maybe he did feel a spark as cliché as that may sound

and maybe he’s not so big and bad, he’s just some new kid

and basically what you’re both thinking is…….. ayo r we aboutta kiss rn 👀

…

NAH im just playin, you fuckin hate each other

HE’S SUCH A JACKASS, ARE YOU KIDDING???

AND YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH. BFFR.

but maybe you’re lonely (you’d never admit it) and maybe he really needs the cash (steve harrington cash cow sugar daddy), so why the hell not

not like it’ll go anywhere.

that would be ridiculous.

👁️🫦👁️

okay so what you like the music he plays when he gives you rides and so what he thinks you’re kinda pretty when you smile and SO WHAT you both have fun when he causes a ruckus over air-hockey at the arcade and you both end up laughing and calling it a tie anyway

it literally doesn’t mean anything

he hates you, and you hate him

yeah….. you hate each other!!!!! duh….

that’s why there’s an awkward silence whenever he glances at your lips for a split second and that’s why you both pull away when your hands brush in the popcorn bucket and that’s why your dates always end with both of you grinning while he watches you duck back through your door

because you HATE each other 😝

honestly, after all is said and done, it’s really silly how nobody saw this happening before

because you’re both definitely smart enough to have connected the dots

but actually, common sense must’ve dipped out the back when you said yes to that first date

oh and all the “so are you two…. are you…???”

“ew gross no, i just….. i’d feel bad saying no, yunno? it’d probably bruise his ego”

and don’t even mention the “have you two…done it?”

“yeah right, i wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole if my life depended on it”

so basically everyone’s silently rooting for the two of you

because if they did it out loud, they’d probably get socked. by both of you. at the same time.

wait okay, because now all i’m imagining is how everyone thinks you guys probably duke it out like MONSTERS

like everyone knows your fights are VICIOUS and you’re both definitely like that behind closed doors

except you two are actually laying on the couch, sound asleep with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair

but it’s only because the movie was boring and it’s been a long week, duh, this would never happen under normal circumstances……..

except it happens all the time

like eventually it’s just routine for you two to nap on the couch under the guise of a shitty movie and busy schedules

oh the excuses

its always, but he sucks, and well she’s a bitch

and you both just have to keep coming up with new ones to avoid confrontation with your feelings

*sigh* if only someone hated me enough to cuddle with me and take me mini-golfing and sing me to sleep and braid my hair and make me mixtapes

you just know the final realization is GUTTING

you’re both like: holy fucking shit no i don’t love him/her, i just think he’s/she’s funny and actually really beautiful and nice to be around and makes me feel comfortable and safe and happy for once in my life—holy fucking shit i guess i love him/her

and then it’s all super awkward and dodgy and you both make excuses not to hang out but also when you don’t hang out, you both get really miserable and upset and unbearable

like everyone knows the days you two aren’t talking because you’re both nightmares

speaking of talking: you two talk about each other so much, people have to ask you to shut up. please.

the first time you meet max, she’s like “oh, i’ve heard so much about you. like literally. so much.”

and you’re both like 😳

and billy just drags you away from her before she can say anything else

bonus: once you and max get closer, all you two do is snicker and yap about how billy sucks (lovingly) and how boys suck in general and how max should just ask lucas out

you’re definitely her long lost older sister

seriously, billy has to pry you away from max if he wants to hang out with you

you’re inseparable

it’s obnoxious

and max starts a counter for every time billy references you (in a negative or positive way)

and before he’s even asked you out on a second date, the counter is up to fifty

……. okay now don’t even get me started on the actual relationship

like how you guys would be Lovers

with a capital L

all that hate would turn into love slowly but so, so surely

it confuses everyone, but it’s also really cute.

and gross.

the PDA 🙄 😍

there is no stopping you two

it’s too late, you’re a power couple, sorry

you going to all of his games and practices (you read the whole time, but it’s the thought that counts)

and him taking you to concerts (even though he doesn’t really like your favorite band. it’s still your favorite. and you’re his favorite)

yeah…..

masterlist

[hopefulqueer]

Solitude, Solifugids, and the Ten Percent Chance

(Author's note: this is about despair and radical hope and you are not alone, there's bugs. Please note that this story contains content involving heavily implied suicidal intentions and serious illness. Also, more than heavily implied bugs.)

A cloud of dust billowed up behind my car, tinging the blue desert sky with orange. It left a trail off into the distance, back towards civilization, getting fainter and more spread out and less easily detectable the further back I looked. I once heard a guest lecturer who studied theoretical physics say that no information in the universe could ever be truly destroyed. A drop of ink mixed into a pool of water might seem uniform and untraceable, but the movement of each molecule held the proof of what came before it. In that way, the motion of every particle that had ever existed could, in theory, be traced all the way back to the beginning of time. My dust cloud would eventually disappear to the naked eye, but once those particles had been disturbed, there was no going back.

My destination appeared as a tiny black dot on the flat horizon. There were very few man-made structures in this barren landscape in Eastern Oregon. This tiny church, lovingly built by pioneers on the Oregon Trail who thought it was their God-given right to take and take and take and leave their fingerprints on every corner of the planet, was the exception. This place had already been desecrated. I wouldn’t be staining anywhere new.

I pulled off the highway and onto the dead, scrubby grass and sand and rocks that surrounded the little stone building for miles in every direction. The ground crunched and groaned under my wheels. When I turned the key to kill the engine, something deep and powerful struck my ears.

Silence.

I got out of the car. The door slamming behind me was like a gunshot into the still air. A real gunshot might be even louder. I’d find out soon enough.

Apart from the occasional creaks as the heat in my car dissipated and it settled, my breathing was the only human sound for dozens of miles. I knew that there was no such thing as real silence in a city, but experiencing it like this for the first time still came as a shock. It was like putting on the best pair of noise-canceling headphones ever invented and then some. People were throwing away so much money to develop better and better technology. All that was ever going to do was add more noise to the world. Pointless. Arrogant.

Speaking of arrogance, an American flag hung limp, dusty, and tattered on a metal pole next to the church. That wasn’t part of what the original settlers had left behind. Somebody else had come along over a hundred years later and decided it was a good idea to put a flag there like a mark of pride, like an animal peeing on the scratches it left in a tree, like the church wasn’t bad enough. I opened my mouth and I screamed.

“There’s no one to hear you scream” is always that point in a horror movie where the character knows that they’re well and truly fucked. My piercing, wordless scream rose up and was lost into the hot, dry air. If a man screams in the desert and nobody’s around, is he really dying?

It felt like something was reaching down into me and tearing that cry out. Its claws ripped through my stomach and slit my throat, and the scream just kept pouring out of me like blood and smoke and water.

I was on all fours without remembering how I got there by the time I ran out of breath. My palms were stinging from pieces of gravel that had embedded themselves into my skin. I pulled dust and heat and oxygen into my lungs and stared down at my hands with dry eyes and a little bit of saliva on my lips. My body heaved into the returning silence. How long would it take someone to find me? A few hours? A day or so? A week? This dirt road was so infrequently traveled that scrappy little leafy plants were growing up around the wheel ruts. I wondered if I should walk further out into the desert and make life more difficult for somebody. I could make my impact just a little bigger, a little deeper. It felt unrealistic to me at that moment that more people didn't go missing. It was unbearably tempting, and there was just so much space out there to become lost in. This was more space than I had ever seen in my life. Why had it taken this to get me out further than a couple of hours from where I had been born? I'd never thought of myself as a coward before, or a shut-in, or even particularly sheltered. Now I was looking back at my life with this horrible fresh perspective and realizing how pathetic I had always been.

A gust of wind blew more dust into my face and I blinked hard to keep it out of my eyes. The sudden sound of a rhythmic dull tapping sent a burst of fear ricocheting through my body. It sounded so much like quick footsteps that I sprang to my feet and whipped around to look back over my shoulder, certain that I would see another person there. A reasonable thought would have been that it was a hiker, maybe, or a hitchhiker. But I had a strange expectation that they would be wearing the clothes of an Oregon Trail settler, or a pre-colonial Native American. I didn't believe in ghosts and I never had. Even so, when I heard that sound, I knew with every fiber of my being that there was a ghost behind me.

There wasn't any ghost. The ragged, faded American flag had caught the wind and was up and blowing, flapping and fluttering against itself. Some metal on its tether hit the flagpole and chimed weakly like a bell. 

I put a hand to my chest, actually shaking with adrenaline. Trying to get rid of some of that nervous energy, I kicked a rock that was a little too big to kick. It sent a shooting pain up through one of my middle toes and the rock only skidded along for a yard or two.

As I began to curse and hop on one foot, something on the ground caught my eye. In the dark leftover shadow where the rock had been, something was moving. A spider, or something like a spider, scuttled a few inches and froze in the sudden sunlight. I had disturbed its hiding spot.

I felt the need to get a closer look. I only knew a little about spiders and bugs. They had never captured my interest like the bigger animals had when I was a kid. I had always been enchanted by whales and dolphins and sharks and giant squid. This little thing, though, two inches long and tan and leggy with oversized mouthparts, was just as strange and alien as any deep-sea fish I'd seen in a documentary. I kneeled down and let my shadow fall over it. It tensed, and I leaned down closer.

Its body was a bit dull and its head shone a brighter orange. The shape of its abdomen was unlike any spider I had ever seen, bulbous and elongated at the same time. It had eight legs, like a spider, plus those long feeler-type ones in the front. As far as I could tell, it only had two little black eyes on top of its almost teardrop shaped face. 

I couldn't move. I was entranced with this odd thing. My eyes traced the gradient of colors down its long legs. I noted the hairs bristling out of it and the creases separating the segments on its back. It was beautiful. Beautiful.

As if finally recovering from the shock of having its home kicked away from above it, it darted off into a nearby bush almost faster than I could track it. With the spell broken, I sat back on my heels and sighed.

How long did a little creature like that live? A year or two? And how many of the babies of this species would live to whatever passed for a ripe old age? How many would live a full life, a full year? Less than ten percent, I was almost certain. 

Less than a ten percent chance to live out the year. It had resonated in my chest as such a hopeless figure when I drove out here. But that strange arachnid was so alive. It didn't know its odds and so it kept living, and because it kept living, it was still alive. It all seemed so simple now. That information, like all information in the universe, would never be undone.

[mask131]

I really do not get the logic of so-called "haters".

*talk endlessly about how they hate a piece of media, about how the story is insufferable, how the characters are nauseating, how they refuse to support the creator in any way, how it is an offense to humanity that should not exist in the first place*

All the while...

*constantly making redesigns of the characters, constantly writing "correct-fics" of the story, prove by their very long and complex analysis of the piece they clearly know as much about it as a hardcore fan, kept posting updates and follows-ups every time a new episode/movie/chapter/book comes out, and just can't stop talking about it*

If you are a true hater, someone who is indeed versed in the sacred art of hating things - then you just don't interact with the thing, unless it is with a ten-foot-long pole and once every blue moon. True haters are repelled by the thing they hate like vampires by holy garlic ; they don't all start buzzing and flying aroun the thing like angry moths around a narrative flame.

These people are NOT haters. They are "anti-fans", and I think the nuance should be brought up more often as the term "haters" get too broadly used.

Think about it. These people follow the pieces of media they hate, they know and study every little detail, they keep making fan-art and fanfics of it... just like fans. Except they do it all while constantly insulting, disdaining or spitting bile onto the very piece of fiction they actually clearly obsess over.

There is an art to hating, my dears. And this is not hating. This is just being a fan, but taking it by the other end. Fans are those who make a specific piece of fiction one of the centers of life - nobody talked about the way to do that...

[the-firebird69]

This is a huge day giant things are happening the wheels are finally moving and a son and daughter and Fred and I am pivotal Frank Castle hardcastle Duke and Blockbuster vital and goddess wife Uriel and goddess wife Poseidon and goddess wife Salazar and goddess wife Rafael and got his wife and there's a list of people who hear all the time some of them have moved in practically. And John remillard is helping because we make him and we have to stop him from harming your son all the time it's a huge pain. Just thought we'd mentioned him though. And they can't tell cuz they go down below you think so they think that he's getting rid of them it's in the matrix movie. But really there's a huge Exodus and people are leaving the country because they heard about it and it was a lot of ships and they left this morning around 10:00 and 11:00 a.m. and then went fast and then all one mile ships and then there was a huge thing a half mile then they were like these two miles ships and half mile and it kept doing that and there are so many it was a steady stream almost to now and it's going to keep going because those ships are still up north and they're still feeling and all three rivers okay all three rivers are full of them they said we can't get any ships back up there cuz there's too many coming down so you should have one lane they said it's impossible so how many ships do they have and how long will it take for them to leave. And they said they have about 500,000 more ships which isn't that many and then they can come back up just trying to get ready to do that and stop attacking up north and a lot of people think that robots down there together and left their areas mostly and blew them up when they're looking at satellite they wasn't a ton of people there it's a huge huge Exodus it was like 10% of the populace left in the sink 5% of them left and they're going to be leaving shortly cuz they're not welcome it'll start making missiles no they already have. And trying to remember Lord doesn't get it yet John remillard missed it. It's a huge Force that left and boy they useless.

95% of the Western hemisphere more luck bases are destroyed and that ranges from very small like one block all the way up to 40 by 70 miles. There's only one or two large bases left one is 30x40 there's 50 by 60 and once those are gone there will not be I'm warlock presents except for the populace and it won't do any good but we see that they've been studying being separate and doing things and having people in their midst and they will be very excited and they're going to try and use threats from the island and on us.

Almost 99.9% of the morlock basis are destroyed in the Eastern hemisphere of Earth and they're wiped out that clues the North Pole and Antarctica and the surrounding Islands with the exception of New Zealand Australia and Iceland up north it is a huge event tons of more lack of finding out and evacuating. Roughly 5% is left with the populace most of that is are in the cities goofballs and are getting hauled in arrested and getting in fights big fights by the way like 2 million people versus two million people and they lose every time. And it's going to be coming up soon as War of the worlds and things like that because what's going on yes why would they evacuate the Midwest and simply put we're going after all the stuff and pulling everybody out and they're evacuating like 1% a day and today huge numbers of robots came up and started ripping everything out and going after tons of people and John remillard thought it was him so he started giving you s*** yelling and stuff he knows that nobody was reporting into him tried calling the basis out there no answer call the other people the bases are gone tried to figure out who and he couldn't tried to find out from Mac and Max and I don't know who it is and Tommy f is running around say it's our son so they let him know what was going on that makes sense doesn't it and they were caught.

That's a huge huge huge thing the Midwest is empty it's Giant and the upper Midwest will empty momentarily there's not many people there and fully it's going to be empty nobody will be there I'm going to pull all the factories and all the equipment matter of fact we're going to start right now

Thor Freya

[vala-dreams]

Okay so I've had this how to train your dragon x danny phantom hc rotating in my head for a while.

I'm not very sure of the exact setting but the time period is around the same time as the first movie, aka the viking era. Amity Park is just another village located farther south of the Barbaric Archipelago. South enough that they don't really see dragons. Like ever. (I hc that most dragons live near the poles or in the hidden world with only the rare isolated nest/lone dragon scattered around the middle)

.

And like I said, Amity Park, or rather Amity Village, is just another village. Or it would be, if it weren't for the Fentons.

You see, there are a lot of respectable resonable occupations you could take up in a village— you could be a farmer, you could be a healer, you could be a baker or a fisherman or a blacksmith. The Fentons however, decided that they were going to make life hell for everyone and not go with any of those. Oh no no no, instead, they decided to be ✨dragon hunters✨

Which would be a cool ass job to have. You know, if dragons actually existed. (Okay they do exist in this universe but keep in mind that nobody in Amity or surrounding villages has ever laid eyes on a dragon. Only mention of dragons they ever get are from crazy looking travellers that cannot be trusted.)

So the Fentons are dragon hunters. The best in town. Yes, they were the only ones in town. Their research was based on the typical dragon hate you see in the movie and their research was even more inaccurate than the kind you'd get from the pre hiccup-Dragon manual. They do know a few things, mind you. Also getting information about dragons when you have next to no sources and no internet is hard don't blame them.

The Fenton kids however, are fairly normal. Jasmine Fenton was exceptionally brilliant, and well on her way to being an exceptional healer, while her younger brother Danny was looking to be somewhat of an astronomer.

And then the Fenton parents mess that up too. They had heard of a ritual, many many years ago, one which opened the portal to the hidden realm of dragons, and had apparently sworn to spend the rest of their lives trying to complete the ritual and get into this hidden world. And they do exactly that. Several years of failed attempts later, they finally come up with a version of the ritual that they're totally sure will work and are so so excited about it. It's the only thing Danny and Jazz hear about from them for a solid week.

And then the long awaited day comes. Maddie and Jack finally have everything prepared for the ritual, they do everything properly but it just doesn't work. They try and try and try several times but it just isn't working. Eventually they just dejectedly go for a walk to cool themselves off.

.

And then Danny starts feeling sad about his parents ritual not working and vents to his friends, aka Sam and Tucker about it. And they're all like, hey we should go check it out see if we can fix it like we have any knowledge about portals or magic or rituals. And then Danny steps into the ritual ring to get a better look at it and they're just joking around and trying to figure out what's wrong with it.

.

But then the portal started glowing a toxic green. Turns out that Danny's parents did everything perfectly. They just didn't know about one thing.

The portal needs a human sacrifice to activate.

.

.

—Vala

[fanficsloth]

Meet Me In The Pale Moonlight

****​After being rejected by Sandy, the gang tried to cheer Soda up with a night out, but little did he know that he would be running into someone he used to know really well.

Songs: Go Go Dancer- Lana Del Rey

Sodapop asked his girl Sandy to get married.

He was so excited, he was so excited to start a new life with Sandy.

Get married, start a family, live the dream he always wanted, especially with the woman he loved to the moon and back.

Sadly, Sandy said no and broke things up with him.  

"Soda, I can't. I messed up. I two-timed you with a Soc. I'm having his baby. My parents are shipping me off to my grandmother's. I'm so sorry Soda." she sighed before leaving him with his own thoughts.

She was moving to Florida, and she was pregnant with someone else's child. Her words were playing like a record on a loop in his brain on his walk of shame to his home.

That broke the swooning boy's heart in half.

He stormed into the Curtis house, slamming the door and slouched on the couch while having everyone in the gang looking at him.

"Well? What happened?" Ponyboy asked his older brother while looking up from the cards he was playing with Johnny. Soda just looked at him with his blue eyes and shook his head before letting out a sigh while rubbing his face.

"Well that doesn't sound too good. I told you she wasn't the one, she was a broad." Darry chimed up giving  his brother a small sympathy smile.

"I don't get it, I thought we were okay. I love her. I love her more than Steve loves chocolate cake he eats every damn day. I was a good man, I worked hard for that ring and she says no? What did I do wrong? Just to have her sleep with some other man." Soda cried, leaving wet marks down his perfect skin not caring that they see him cry.

"Man forget about these broads, Soda you can get any woman you want. But you always go for these flakes of women. They're nothing but trouble. You're still young, you'll find your woman soon. She'll be madly in love with you as you are with her. " his older brother added.

"Speaking of trouble, since our man here is single again, and we should cheer him up we should go to a Go-Go. One in particular. Someone big is going to be preforming tonight." Dally spoke while lighting up a cancer stick.

"Man, I ain't going to no Go-go, did you forget that I just got dumped, and my heart stabbed by a knife a thousand times?" Soda scrunched his face to even thinking about laying eyes on someone when the love of his life just stepped on his heart and spit on it.

"Come on Soda, it'll be fun. We'll all go. It beats going to the ratty movies we've seen five times a week." Steve nodded his head.

"Plus maybe we'll see some Betty's tonight, with some big knockers and stacked up" Dally held his hands out motioning to his chest to what he fantasized the women's chest to look like, making the boys laugh but only receiving an eye roll from Soda.

"Fine, but it's not going to fix anything." Soda rolled his eyes before following the boys out saying goodbye to Pony and Johnny.

The billboard showed everyone's name who was preforming, and the large lettering shinned Firecracker.

"We picked the right night to come here, that Firecracker chick is  biggest dancer that came from here. From our hometown how crazy is that?" Dally yelled over the loud music that was blasting.

The women came out all looked the same, same moves, similar clothing  but that didn't stop all the boys throwing their money on the dance floor with their beer in their hands.

Which bored Soda. He didn't know why he even came, he just wanted to be alone and distract himself with work, not a club where all the women are the same.

"I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be back." Soda told Steve before heading to the bar.

"Can I have a Pepsi-Cola please." he spoke to the bartender while slicking his hair back, "I'll have the same Jerry." a familiar happy voice spoke next to him.

He looked to his right and saw a woman standing there with long dark hair, with the perfect side profile.

"Hey Soda." her soft voice let out before turning to him, her green eyes were dark but lit up by the flashing lights from the club.

"(Y/N). I haven't seen you in ages. How've ya been (Y/NN) ?" Soda asked tongue tied.  

He hasn't seen his childhood friend for ages, you heard once her father died she split leaving her cruel mother behind. Not telling anyone anything. She just picked up and left.

He never thought in a million years he'd see her face ever again.

"I've been good. Wouldn't expect a gentleman like you being in a joint like this." her red lips twitched up into a smile while she laughed, it sounded like music to ears.

"Long story. Dally brought me here. Everyone's here tonight except Ponyboy. Well obviously, he's still a young buck", he explained to to her, she nodded before someone came over and whispered in her ear while she nodded her head pushing her dark hair exposing her perfect porcelain skin.

"Well nice seeing you Soda. I'll be home for a while, maybe we'll catch up soon? Enjoy the shows these women really work hard." her red lips gave him a smile and pat him on the shoulder while grabbing her Pepsi before following the man who came up to her.

Soda ran his hand over his face watching her leave his sight.  

Just remembering she was just this young innocent girl running around without a care in the world. Cared about everyone, was always there for him when he needed her.  

Now she's all grown up and beautiful.

He snuck his way back to the gang.

"You came just in time, Firecracker is coming out next. Look at that get up." Dally pointed to the stage with a cancer stick in his fingers.

Soda looked up at the stage with the blue velvet with gold ropes hung from the stage. He's never seen anything like this before, it had elegance not like these other broads used. He's always seen terrible shows. But nothing like this.

The music started playing, all the men cheered, they were all on the edge of their seat waiting for this mysterious woman to come out.

Then a leg with black fishnets, with black high heels  appeared from the slit from the curtain, then a hand with black gloves with fancy rings on her slender fingers.

"This is gonna get wild!" Steve cheered while jumping out of his seat, punching Two-Bit in the shoulder just in time when the curtain lifted showing the figure of a goddess.

All the men whistled already throwing money, jewelry and some flowers on the stage.

The gang just stood there in awe, as were the other men.

The (Y/H/C) with red feathers in some strands, the corset one piece was red and black with a black boa  just topping it all off.

Then the voice started singing and she was moving in such a way that has never been done or seen by the gang.

She goes to the pole before moving seductively down, "I can't wait till she turns around, she's gonna be stacked up I just know it." Dally smiled while nudging his head at the guys.

Soda just rolled his blue eyes before watching the woman preform, with her voice sounding like butter to him.

She was a knock out, perfect body, voice, can dance not like these other dancers who just lazily dance and all look the same. And he hasn't even seen her face yet, and he was already buzzing about this woman.

"They call me Firecracker,  'Cause ain't nobody faster. I'm your go-go dancer. Midnight answer, jukebox sweetheart, queen of the night."

And just like that all the gangs jaws were on the floor.

As the woman spun around, whipping her (Y/H/C) hair around showing her face, her (Y/E/C) eyes shinned like they all just remembered.

But now she was this whole different person.

"Is that-" Two-Bit , "(Y/N)" Darry nodded his head before turning around not wanting to see the girl he knew when she was a young girl.

"Holy shit." Dally muttered.

Soda was just bug-eyed the whole time.

Watching her move her mature body, walking up to the men, sitting on their laps, taking their hats and downing their half empty glasses of hard liquor while they placed money on her garter belt.

He was in shock.

"When the hell did this happen?  Wasn't she just 15?" Darry spoke while his back was turned to the men.

She owned the stage, she walked in front of the stage where the gang was, she winked and smiled at them but couldn't help but let out a giggle when she saw Darry turned around which made all the men cheer but left them shocked some more.

They all looked how she would expect.

Mostly Sodapop he was always dreamy to her.

"She looks like she's having fun though." Soda laughed while watching all their reactions after it finally settled into him that she made a name for herself for the most part.

She crawled up on her knees to Soda while stealing his Pepsi, winking at him and lifting up the drink to cheers.

She finished her song before bowing and blowing kisses at all the men.

"Thank you all for this amazing turn up in my hometown. I'm so glad to be back." she scrunched up her button nose with a smile.

Her (Y/E/C) eyes lit up the whole room.

All eyes were on her while hers were locked on Sodapop's blue eyes.

[adultswim2021]

Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law #12: “Trio's Company” | April 18, 2004 - 11:30 PM | S02E02

I would say that Space Ghost's ending truly was the end of an era. I'm not sure how cognizant of it I was at the time, though. I can't remember if Space Ghost's season was plainly stated to be it's last or if it just felt that way or what. But if it did indeed seem like an ending at the time, then what a fucking insult giving us more Birdman to kick things off for phase 2. I mean, Jeuss Christ.

In “Trio's Company” we are treated to a barrage of empty zany jokes about Birdman trying and failing to get in GiGi's pants. She's a beautiful redhaired lady that is making out with every man in the office (and elsewhere) but him. She's based on Gravity Girl from the Galaxy Trio. Their relationship takes a turn when he asks her out and she agrees... to move in with him. Funny? I mean, it's not a bad concept, especially when she brings other dudes over with her (I think they're the dudes from the Galaxy Trio, but I'm so exhausted from looking up “Gravity Girl”, I simply can not bear it). But everything in Birdman's world has no gravity, which is pretty FUCKING ironic because [you get it already, I'll stop].

This is when I officially gave up on Birdman. I might have said that during the write-up for the last episode, but it's technically truer to say so here. I did actively watch “Blackwatch Plaid”, but any and all moaning about “I'M NEVER WATCHING THIS SHOW AGAIN” is basically meaningless for me, a person who will emptily make this threat and then wind up seeing a bad show to it’s conclusion anyway. Me giving up on Birdman has to happen in practice, which it did here when I did not watch this episode on television. I did not actually see this episode until I started this project.

Birdman plays it's comedy with the precision of that brief bit in The Animaniacs where it shows the writers “flipped”. I don't know if this is going to mean anything to any of you, but I’ll try and explain. Literally almost every time when I think about Birdman-- okay, you know how sometimes when you hear about something, like an object or a concept or a person, etc, your brain will sorta identify that thing to you by showing you a brief image of it? Like a flashcard? Does anyone else experience this? Like, somebody says “fishing pole!” and your brain just shows you a very brief picture of a fishing pole to you, so you'll continuing knowing what fishing poles are?

Well, when people mention shows or movies to me sometimes more than a flash card pops up, but instead it'll be like an animated gif, and for me when I think of Birdman I actually think about that brief scene in The Animaniacs theme song under the lyric “the writers' flipped” and it's just two writers with re-re arms bouncing around while they make goofy faces and springs are coming out of their heads. I probably can't convince anyone here that I'm right about thinking Birdman is unfunnily zany in a detestable way by urging you to google the theme song for Animaniacs and look at that short little animation. But I wish I could.

I've explained this before. But some of you like when I repeat stuff incessantly, so this is for you: I attempted this blog one other time. I started a thread called something like ADULT SWIM IN REVIEW or ADULT SWIM: REVIEWED where I just decided to go through every episode of every Adult Swim show in chronological order. I did it up to 2004 or so, kinda around where I am now (yikes!). I dashed it off initially, cuz it was just a message board thread and I was basically just using it as a way to keep track of it for myself, so I'd say stupid pithy things that usually involved some message-board specific shorthand (example: “puppets? compn must hate this one” “Frylock produces a list that would rival Lim da Skit’s!” like, the most inane-sounding inside shit ever). I started over because it’d been so long that picking up where I left off felt weird, and also those early entries really didn’t hold up. Anyway, here's a previously-unpublished write-up for this episode that remarkably says different stuff:

Historically speaking, I gave up on Harvey Birdman around this time. This was the first Birdman show that I intentionally missed. All these Birdman episodes from here on our are exciting and new to me!

So anyway, this episode is really terrible. Like, spectacularly so. I hate every character, I hate every joke, I hate how the story moves... man, I just hate everything about this one.

So okay, Inch High PI is fired for being short. See, his shortness interferes with his surveillance-photo-taking abilities. That's funny, right? Meanwhile, Birdman deals with a comically promiscuous personal trainer who moves into Birdman's apartment after Birdman asks her out on one date. She uses his apartment to fuck dudes in, while never fucking Birdman. Birdman thinks that he has a thread of a shot of a chance getting his cloacae stroked, so he puts up with it. While this all happens, Inch High PI is shown running in at the end of every scene trying to get Birdman's attention (he's small! so it's tough!). Reducto goes crazy at the sight of him (because he's small! Reducto is obsessed with stuff like that!). You get the idea.

The most frustrating thing about this episode is that basically nobody actually has a conversation. That's one of the main things that irks me about Birdman: the characters are crazy joke machines and pairing any two characters in a scene almost never results in a functional verbal interaction. It's like watching bad improv or something. Except, you know, it's a cartoon, where there are multiple stages in production where you have an opportunity to fix that problem. It doesn't strike me as a creative choice as much as just bad writing.

This episode bites and I don't care who knows it. Go away!

EPHEMERA CORNER

The Popeye Show #9: "The Hyp-Nut-Tist/Child Psykolojiky/Cartoons Ain't Human" (April 19, 2004 - 1:30 AM)

At 1:30AM, Adult Swim started airing The Popeye Show. I’m not sure they even promoted it. I think they just needed to fill that half hour suddenly and just decided to plug The Popeye Show on there. I liked The Popeye Show. They showed three uncut Popeye shorts and included little bumpers discussing certain historically significant Popeye facts. It was clearly aimed at adult classic animation fans and not kids. Really cool, honestly. Anyway dipshits who don’t understand that Popeye is great complained, because they thought it was kids cartoons polluting their block. Relax shithead. Popeye is good. It’s a cartoon about a gross guy that kills people for fun. It fits right in to your precious Adult Swim block. It’s okay. They’re going to take it off the schedule soon, anyway.

Swimpedia notes that it was Popeye’s 75th anniversary around this time which I guess means Adult Swim actually was acknowledging our boy Popeye at some capacity. Unfortunately I don’t remember this! But then again, this is around the time I started drifting away from Adult Swim as a regular viewer.

[burgerkang000]

Serve an ace through my heart

r

this is a Jongho fic and its pretty long so I'm gonna do the read more thing 

@beyoncesdragon   @aixy-hpsa(if anyone else wanna be tagged pls tell me!!!)

tumblr i hate u, u keep on eating my spaces TT-TT

Being out of your comfort zone; nobody likes that. For you, you never really got around into being comfortable with, well, a lot of things. And you never really saw what was wrong with that. You hear your friends talking about how they were dragged into doing things they never wanted to do, and they either end up loving it or hating it.

It wasn’t like you were entitled to sort out the uneasiness.

Right now, the uneasiness you felt towards playing volleyball is an example of something you didn’t want to sort out.

But the volleyball team was lacking, and the captain was looking for new players and training them separately, until their ready to join the team.

And you must have checked all the boxes for ‘volleyball player’, because the captain has been constantly nagging you to at least try it out.

And in a moment of fury, you had said no, you’re not interested, you’re afraid and uncomfortable.

And even though looking back on it, you felt that you were a bit harsh, but even so, you had thought that he was done bothering you.

But the next day Choi Jongho; the guy you spend YEARS pining comes up to you. And that’s new, because you’re sure he doesn’t know of your existence, and he says-

“Sometimes you have to do things that make you uncomfortable to actually like it”

And you don’t understand; you gape at him for what feels like centuries, as you haven’t caught on yet; for fucks sake the guy hasn’t even said hello.

And he sighs, as if he’s done with people not understanding him, and you blame exactly him for that because of the cryptic way he speaks, he could speak Morse code and you’d understand him better; and he begins to explain, as if that’s the most draining thing in the world.

And you think that this guy is getting less and less charming the more he opens his mouth (That is a lie).

“Play volleyball with us, join the team, you fit the qualities to be one, and its actually fun- not easy- but fun; and about the uncomfortable thing, sometimes you just need to get past the feeling, and then you can actually feel , once the cloud of poor judgement is out of your system.”

And he said a lot of things, he did, but somehow the moment you actually stop and say something you HAD to say-

“I have poor judgement?” and you blink up at him.

And let’s be honest here- scary looking, kind of jerk face, jock, probably bullied into asking you to join the volleyball team; totally would have said something along the lines of ‘of course, what do you expect your judgement to be? Reliable?’

But Jongho looked taken aback, sort of offended that you thought of him as lowly, as he aggressively shakes his head.

“I meant the being uncomfortable; it makes your judgement poor, and I would never say that, what kind of person do you take me to be?”

And you sigh and rub you’re temple. You can’t believe the fact that you’re actually considering this. It’s like the captain knows about your massive crush and is totally using it against you.

“I – well I – I’m not sure if I’ll like it.” You reply, fidgeting with the watch that has been strapped on your wrist.

HE sighs yet again (AGAIN) and says-

“Well, you’ll never know if you won’t try, I can give you a test run if you’d like.”

“Well uhh-“

“There are no girls on the team; we genuinely want people who think that girls can’t make it onto the team to change their mind-set.”

OK if anything can convince you, its woman empowerment, so you nod, and try to convince yourself that this is you’re part of showing support; and that watching hot sweaty guys (read: Choi Jongho)  play volleyball was just a plus side.

“Great, tomorrow, Gym, after school.”

And he leaves.

Where does he think he is in? High school musical?

“Tomorrow, Gym, after school” you mimic as you resume packing your stuff.

.

.

.

The school was empty and it was something you haven’t experienced before, other than the club people there was pin drop silence in the corridors, when you passed by the basketball court you could hear the aggressive squeaking and bouncing.

You had never really stayed behind after school, except that one time your whole class had failed on a test and all of you had to stay back for extra classes. But it was noisy then.

When you entered the gym, you spot Jongho and the captain talking. And once the captain notices you he smirks. The captain is evil, you think.

“So I thought you weren’t joining?”  He asks as he walks up to you.

You angrily mutter-

“Well, yeah, I’m here to watch”

You realise that you don’t know the captains name.

The captain chuckles and as he’s walking past you, you grab his arm and ask him.

“I didn’t get your name…”

“I can tell it to you if you join the team”

“I can ask someone here” you tighten the grip on his hand.

“….. Song Mingi”

You hum and let him go; he caresses his wrist, where red marks your tight hold of his hand.

“Oh don’t be so smug” he tells you.

“If anything it tells me you have good grip; that just makes me want you in the team so~ much more than the last time”

You poke your tongue out at him, because you’re a mature human being and walk towards the bleachers.

And after an hour of watching them play, you’ve gathered nothing.

All you think is that volleyball is cool. It makes the players look cool; and sure all of them are eye candy, but you’re eyes draw to Jongho more times than you would like to admit.

You can’t help it, the boy’s expression when he’s half crouched and waiting for actions makes you shiver, his hair sticking to his forehead, beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his neck, the slight exposure of his skin when he jumps or serves.

And you can’t get started on the guy’s thighs.

And you lied; the whole half of the game your eyes were trained on him, your mouth slightly agape as you watch him.

And if you knew you would have stopped, it was only when you were admiring Jongho drinking water that the captain- Song Mingi- decides to interrupt you.

You were in the middle of watching him gulp down water; sometimes he aggressively detaches the bottle from his mouth and takes sharp gulps of air before immediately bringing it back to his lips and gulping, and the water sometimes escapes from the corners of his mouth and-

Your soul has left your body, and you’re definitely drooling, and as you shuffle to get a more comfortable position and a better view, you feel a tap at your shoulder.

You shrug it off as being stupid, sometimes a hair moves a tiny inch on your body and your convinced it’s a spider, maybe it’s one of those times, and spider be damned, you’re looking at Choi Jongho in all his sweaty glory.

But then someone says-

“Like the view?”

And you startle backwards and see Mingi in stitches.

You look at him un-amused as he finishes up laughing, and once he’s done you want to hit him, but the thing is you have self-control. What you don’t have control over is how you want to stop watching some guy laughing and continue to stare at Jongho like he’s some interesting movie.

So you do exactly that only to find Jongho is dead on staring at you too, and you startle backwards yet again, hand flying towards your chest and hastily look away. And you can hear Mingi laughing again, then you look u to take a peek to see Jongho jogging up to you.

He’s panting and breathless and he smells like sweat, but he still manages to look drop dead gorgeous, he bends over hands on his knees and asks

“So…. Like volleyball yet?”

And he’s panting between his words; so it’s only kind enough to-

“Would you like some water?”

He nods, so you hand him your bottle and avert your eyes while he drinks, because they guy is right in front of you, and you don’t want to do anything stupid.

He hands you the bottle when he’s done,  swipes the back of his hand to get rid of the water that has clung to his lips and you’re eyes linger there more than necessary.

“So…?” he asks. Here he goes again with the cryptic speaking, you resist the urge to roll your eyes and you ask-

“So….?”

He sighs like he’s done with you and asks-

“So how do you like volleyball?”

“Oh... Umm its cool I guess, but I don’t think I can do all that- it looks hard”

“It’s a matter of practice”

“I don’t know”

“Maybe you shouldn’t join, if you’re this uncomfortable”

And you felt a pang of disappointment at that, as if you’ve let him down.

“I can try… to play- I mean”

He looks at you for a few moments and says-

“Great, be there tomorrow after school on the tracks; captain said I can train you”

He flashes a smile at you- gums and all, waves and hurry back to the game.

Something that caused you’re stomach to flutter was that he waved alright, walking backwards while you waved and smiled back, all the way to the centre of the gym until he hit the pole and sheepishly rubbed his head, waved one last time and let the game take over.

.

.

. 

The next day after school, you were in an empty track. You thought the track team would be there, but there was no one except Jongho and you.

You were told to run, and do all sorts of crazy exercises that you didn’t even know the name of. It was safe to say you were making demonic breathing noises through the whole ordeal, taking way too many water breaks and you looked far too messed up then you usually are. The uncomfortable feeling of sweat causing your clothes to cling to your body, and sweat trickling down the sides of your neck, was in fact not that uncomfortable. Quite the opposite; it was satisfactory, you think you look cool like those sports people in the ads, until you caught your reflection at a glass door and decided to not look again, and either way, you wouldn’t exercise for hours and NOT sweat.

And Jongho? He was pushing you through the whole thing, telling you what to do, how to do, basically training you; you haven’t even learnt one volleyball trick.

And you think this is hard.

Very hard.

But on the not so bright side, this time around you couldn’t stare at Jongho, every time he comes close; your heart does palpations, every time his skin comes in contact with yours, the warm sticky feeling made your stomach do summersaults.

And this continued on for a week. Yes, you, the most talented person when it comes to not doing any physical activity, did crazy exercise routines with a ball for Choi fucking Jongho, there’s no denying at this point. Even though you won’t voice it to him, Choi Jongho better be grateful or you’re going to die.

On the bright side, you and the team captain have been hanging out a lot lately, talking over coffees and homework and subtle smiles in corridors. And you voice it to him one day, of how Jongho should be grateful, because you can’t move your body.

“I must have been right to send Jongho to ask you then?” He says with a smug smile.

And you angrily mutter threats that hold no meaning and look away.

.

.

.

Even though it’s only been a month of training, and they want you to play.

And you’ve put all you’re arguments out on the table, and the team has shot all of them down as if it were that easy. But the whole idea of playing for the team, on a real match that counts, makes your gut churn and twist and tighten all at the same time.

And once all the members left, you see Jongho from the corner of your eye, sit next to you.

You feel his long, slender fingers rubbing you’re shoulder, probably for a soothing effect, that actually made the butterflies to flap and you didn’t really need that will all the churning, twisting and tightening happening down there.

And he says

“Calm down, ok” And you nod, but your attempts to calm down are useless, uneasiness clinging on to you.

Jongho sighs, and by now spending one month with him, you have noticed how he sighs a lot. In the past one moth, you both have been hanging out every chance you get, besides training.

It was really more calming, if you overlook the feelings on your side. Being with Jongho was calming, and knowing yourself, you usually are too busy trying to make memories you forget to live in the moment. But when you were with Jongho, you were pulled into the moment, in fact you were so into the moment, you haven’t even thought about making it a memory. And the plus side is you remember everything that happened when you’re with him. More than that there is this creeping feeling of how attached you’re growing to him that you will away for now.

One thing that makes your heart flutter every time is when he leaves, he walks backward, waving to you all the while, until he hits a pole, tree, human, pillar, or any object, then waves on last time and leaves.

.

.

.

You lost.

Great

You feel this intense mixture of dread and guilt.

It’s sad, it’s your first match but you’ve managed to lose for your team, because the other team could tell your inexperience, and even though you and Jongho had worked on your legs trembling while playing, you couldn’t control it out there.

There were people watching you so everything you did was a mess, every thrust was weaker than you thought, every opportunity was a lost one

You wanted to tell the team I told you so, but they didn’t look so bummed out, Mingi said some bullshit speech about how the team tried its best and it’s all about having fun anyways…

He also told you to take it easy.

But you felt like you were swallowing shards of glass, and breathing in iron fillings and as soon as the team left you could hold you’re tears back anymore, and it hurt because you were excited, and if it were not for you the team could have easily won, and you felt as if you shouldn’t have agreed to join in the first place, damn you Choi Jongho.

But really damn him; because he sat next to you and then one look at him was all it took for you to break down into sobs and he pulled you toward him, your face was snuggled up into his chest. And you were painfully stiff at first, until he started stroking you’re hair and whispering how its ok and how he’s proud of you and how you did well, and how everyone is proud of you and as you continued crying you were relaxing into his hold, which was stirring up warmth and you sobbed into his shirt for a really long time.

And when you were finally done, you looked up at him, and he was very close, like very, nose touching kind of close and you weren’t able to do anything but stare with wide eyes.

And was he getting closer?

And then there was no more distance between the both of you as a pair of lips captured yours, and at first your eyes were open and looking at Jongho’s closed ones, and soon enough he grew impatient and began prodding at your lips and you closed your eyes and kissed him back. Your heart was beating very fast, you wanted to swallow, but can you? Like is it allowed to swallow in a kiss, and it was painfully quiet all around you, until Jongho pulled away with a drawn out breath .You didn’t even have time to open your eyes, as a pair of lips part at your neck and he leaves open mouth kisses along the length of you neck, you hiss as he sucks particularly hard at a spot. He guides you to half lie down on the bench as he attacks your neck, and he scrapes his teeth along the attacked area and your hand shoots out to his shoulder, and he continues littering soft kisses and apologetic swipes of his tongue to sooth the pain. And soon enough he was back to sucking and nosing at your neck, and your grip on his shoulder tightens as you let out little mewls of satisfaction, at one point Jongho grunts and pulls away.

And you lie there and Jongho is back straddling you . His face hovers just above your ear, he says-

“I’m going to take you on a date and then we’re continuing this.” And it was so low and so husky that you can’t help the sound that gets past your lips.

He nips at your ear and crawls away from you.

You groan and cover your face in embarrassment before you say-

“Ok, let’s go on a date” And when you finally look at him, he’s beaming at you, and its blinding.

.

.

.

Your date was mostly looking at each other and you looking away every five seconds, giggling and then blushing.

And you were halfway through you’re drinks when you suddenly exclaim.

“I should lose more volleyball matches if I’m going to end up with really hot dates”

And Jongho looks at you with a pointed glare and asks

“Really?”

And you hum

And before you know it he was right in front of you, lips nipping at your ear again, and he says-

“No more volleyball for you”

And you giggle AGAIN, and he smiles at you. And you have got a good feeling about this, whatever you have got going on with Jongho.

.

.

.

[regrettablewritings]

How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this. 

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery,  as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

[mhafiction]

Out & About (PT. 1)

Read Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Pairing: Bakugo x reader

Fluff/Friends to Lovers (?), lots and lots of pining.

Synopsis: Reader is very close friends with the Bakusquad, except for the aloof and mysterious Bakugo. He still intrigues them however, and a night out with the group might actually be the the push they need to really get the ball rolling on transitioning their awkward comradery into something a little- more.

Note: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, I’m very spooked. There’s a ton of stress out there in the world rn, and I’m trying to find comfort in writing. I hope you enjoy. (Also I’m sorry abt the formatting of this fic I don’t have a laptop to post from :0) -K.

“I’m so glad we could do this, guys!”

You beamed at your friends, excited to set out for the evening. The major exam everyone had been studying diligently for all week was finally over, and the Bakusquad agreed to celebrate by going into the city to enjoy the night life. To be completely honest, in the week leading up to the test, you had been strangely on edge-but not just because of the workload. The dormitory had become oddly quiet, with everyone either off in the library or retreating to hit the books in the silent comfort of their rooms. You missed the hustle and bustle of everyone chatting, eating Sato’s latest confectionary masterpieces, and most of all, the unbridled energy your friends provided. Well, most of them, anyway.

At least now you could finally relax for the weekend and enjoy a good meal with them.

“Right? It feels like forever since we’ve done something like this,” Mina groaned, leaning her head on your shoulder. Her spikey horns jabbed into your chin. The murmur of the station felt familiar, a calming setting for you and your friends.

Kirishima flashed one of his bright smiles. “Aw, it’s only been a couple of weeks!”

“Yeah but you know I’m clingy,” Mina pouted. “I need my favorite peeps or else I get sad and droopy.”

You chuckled, pushing her playfully off your shoulder. “You’re so dramatic, Mina.”

You were thankful for such cheerful and enthusiastic friends. They were all energetic, happy, and extroverted. They really brought you out of your shell at the beginning of the year, and you had gotten to know them all so well over late-night movie marathons or afternoons at the arcade. You surveyed your little group, watching Kaminari begrudgingly charge Sero’s phone, Mina laughing uproariously at his some joke Kiri cracked, and their general bubbly aura. Then, your eyes caught on a familiar pair of piercing red ones.

Scratch that. You had gotten to know most of them pretty well.

What could you say about Bakugo Katsuki? Well, he was impulsive. Talented. Aloof. Angry.

That was about it. How such a grumpy, quiet boy had attracted these walking rays of sunshine was beyond you. Not to say you hate Katsuki or anything. In fact, one might say that you like him.

He had that extreme sort of passion that you’d never seen before, in anyone. He had a keen eye for people’s strengths and weaknesses, both in combat and just in genral. He encouraged you through those traits to go beyond your limits. And though he was cruel and rude to others, the worst he had been to you was a little standoffish. You knew Bakugo was going to be a really great hero someday, and you wanted to get to know him better. Most days, it felt like you were getting to him; becoming something a person would call friends. Then he’d look you in the eye with those dark, stoic eyes and it felt like you knew nothing about him all over again. If eyes were the windows to the soul, Bakugo guarded his with a legion of soldiers and an iron gate.

It’s okay you mused to yourself. Nobody really knows him, to be fair. Except maybe Kiri and Deku. But he’s known Deku for years! And Kiri can get anyone out of their shell. Why would Bakugo want to be good friends with me? He’s not obligated to. I shouldn’t pester him. But I still want to get to know him! Damn.

“Oi, Y/N!”

You snapped out of your thoughts. Bakugo glared at you. Or maybe it was just the way his face naturally was. Maybe it was just you, but those red eyes seemed to soften a bit.

“C’mon, train’s here.”

You nodded following behind your chattering group. The car was nearly empty, and most of your friends darted for the seats. Kaminari laid across three, spreading out as if her were royalty. Chances are, he probably felt like it.

“This is the most luxurious thing I’ve ever experienced,” he sighed. Sero flicked the back of his head, causing Kaminari to shoot up with a yelp. “That’s sad, Denki. Scooch over.”

Kaminari turned to you, rubbing the his head where Sero had flicked him. “Not sitting, Y/N?”

“Nah. I’ve been sitting at a desk all week, I’d like to refrain from it for now. I’ll bet my postures’ shot.”

Denki shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he splayed over Sero’s lap. “But just know you’re missing out.”

“Don’t get too comfortable, Sparky,” Bakugo growled. “It’s almost rush hour. By the next station, this place’ll be packed.”

Bakugo took his place by one of the seats, opting to stand by the pole next to the door. He was close enough to the seats so that it was clear he was part of the Bakusquad , but just far enough to isolate himself from the conversation. You stranded almost directly across from him, allowing yourself to face the group so that you could converse with all of them, rather by being in a row side by side. Your hand gently held the plastic ring above your head. You all had fallen into a comfortable chatter, laughing about how well you did on the exam and the latest slip-up Kaminari had made in training. The train swayed gently, and all was well. Then came the next stop.

You gaped at the crowd that had accumulated at the doors, dreading when they’d open. All tired looking folks dressed in smart suits and clutching their briefcases. You were silently impressed by their sheer numbers. Living in isolated school dorms with the little student social bubble you had had made you forget how vast the city was. It made you miss your morning commute a little bit. But, when the doors finally opened, that feeling completely evaporated.

It was as if a sea of black ties, dress shirts, and loafers had washed over you. You looked down, determined to contain your bewildered expression. The others were not faring so well in that department. Their cartoonish expressions were accented by quiet (and sometimes loud) yelps at the office people trampling their toes. Bakugo remained unfazed. In the chaos, you loosened your grip on the plastic loop to check your phone. 5:00 PM on the dot. We really are kind of dumb. You wondered to yourself why Bakugo hadn’t said anything when you suggested the outing after class. He was usually so outspoken when it came to stuff like that. And it’s not like he hadn’t known. You sighed, putting your phone away. I should have checked the time before we left... if I had just suggested to go a little later, the crowd wouldn’t be this bad. Well what’s done is done.

As you slipped our phone into your pocket, you found yourself being sharply pushed by the crowd. Another swell of people had entered, and your loose grip didn’t serve you well in such a circumstance. Naturally, you fell forward. Right into Bakugo. Your head collided with his and you tried to reel backwards in pain- but Bakugo pulled you closer to him, grabbing your wrists with an impressive grip.

“Owwww...”

“Shut up, you’re making a scene,” He hissed, eyes scanning you with... worry? As if suddenly becoming aware of this, Bakugo quickly returned to his usual cold demeanor.

You groaned. “It’s not as if it’s my fault that I got pushed. Or that you have a such a hard skull.” You suddenly realized how close you two were. Most of your friends were pretty physically affectionate, and you had no discomfort hugging them or cuddling with them. But Bakugo was not a “cuddle” person. Hell, his if his attitude wasn’t enough, his hair said it all. He did not like being touched. But here you were, chest to chest, his hands gripping your wrists, faces just a nose apart.

If it bothered him, he didn’t show it. You turned to look at the spot you were just standing in, craning your neck just to get a peek. It was tough.

“It’s useless,” Bakugo sighed. “There’s three extras in the place you were. Bastards are glued to their phones.”

You shrugged, peering up at him. More and more people were cramming into the car like sardines. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for now. Sorry.”

Bakugo averted his stony gaze, a gentle agony lining his face. “S’okay.” The rest of your group seemed to take no notice of the state the two of you were in. Mina and Kiri has pushed themselves up against the wall in an effort to be as small as possible, Sero’s gangly frame was not doing him favors, and you swore you heard Kaminari sobbing somewhere, though his shock of blonde hair was out of sight. Somehow, aside from the awkwardness of being near Bakugo, you weren’t uncomfortable. He had stopped holding your wrists and instead kept his hands hovering near your waist in order to keep you from falling over or accidentally bumping into another passanger. Not that you needed it our anything. You knew it was because he felt uncomfortable putting his hands anywhere else. Your own arms were similarly placed, and in a weird way, it was as if you two were embracing. Probably as close to a hug from Katsuki that you’d ever get.

With nothing else to look at, you observed his features. You knew already that his eyes were something else altogether, but you released a short intake of breath. Bakugo was handsome. You had thought that when you first saw him, but you truly had taken it for granted. This close, his features were rendered beautifully. His jawline, the way his hair fell- it was sort of ethereal. He kept his eyes trained on everything but you, as if he were trying to forget you were there. But on top of all that...

“Bakugo, you smell like caramel?” His eyes darted back to your own, that vulnerability you had only seen recently shining through. It stayed a little longer than last time.

“Tch. It’s my quirk,” he tried to look away, but you pressed him further.

“Oh? I didn’t know that,” you hummed, trying to keep your composure. Talking this close to Katsuki was beyond your skill level. You patted yourself on the back internally for at least making it this far. “Does it have something to do with your parents’ quirks?” He flinched, and you worried you had gone too far. He never had been one for small talk. But he obliged, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Kind of. My mom sweats glycerin and my dad can make explosions with his hands. I sweat nitroglycerin, and it lets me make explosions. And nitroglycerin smells like burnt sugar, or-”

“Caramel,” you finished, grinning. That was probably the most he had ever said to you in one sentence. And, to your suprise, he smiled back. But this smile melted your heart. It was sweet and unassuming and he didn’t even seem aware of it. You tried to hide your shock. “Heh. Smart Y/N. You’re such a know-it-all.” He tapped your forehead with his fist, right at the spot you two had collided. You flinched. The injury was still tender. Bakugo’s face changed, but still remained vulnerable and kind. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He knelt to see you eye to eye, and examined your face. He had asked with a genuine concern you had never seen before. Those words seemed like they weren’t meant for his mouth. You felt your face flush. If he was just an inch closer you two would be-

What the fuck?? No way. No fucking way.

There was no way. It wasn’t possible that you could be falling for Bakugo fucking Katsuki. The explosive boy who cackled maniacally whenever he got to punch someone. The sport festival victor who beat up Uraraka, the human equivalent of a cinnamon roll, without an ounce of mercy. The student so notorious for his mean streak that the League of Villains had tried to recruit him.

But that internal part, deep within you knew that he was more than his surface-level outrage. That’s why you liked him so much, right? That’s why you wanted to be his friend. He was a boy who was passionate, ambitious, and honest. Not many could see that. Still, more than this, he displayed a tenderness you didn’t think he was capable of.

A tenderness that was only a nose away from meeting your lips.

“I’m fine, Bakugo.” You attempted to subtly scooch backwards, hoping to increase to distance at least by a smidge. If you stayed in a position like this after a revelation like that, you’d truly implode.

Bakugo was no idiot. He saw you squirm at the proximity, and drew back, his usual aura returning. Internally, he smacked himself. Idiot, idiot, idiot. How could you forget? At best, you two are just friends. Most of the time, you’re just acquaintances. Control yourself, Bakugo.

You two kept this awkward silence until your stop, cheeks ablaze. After what felt like forever, your destination was announced, and Mina gave a shout of joy and relief so loud it seemed like it shook the entire train. You and Bakugo squeezed past the suits, you offering up enough apologies to compensate the both of you for a lifetime of sin. When you reached the door, it felt as if you were finally getting your head above water. You sighed deeply, talking in the rhythms of the station.

“Wow. That was awful,” you breathed. Bakugo grunted. His eyes refused to meet yours, and your heart sank. This was the Bakugo that everyone knew. The grumpy and angry Bakugo and nothing more. Not the sweet boy with the soft eyes who had asked with the gentlest tone if you were ok. But you still liked him. What is wrong with me?!

Mina flopped on the floor like a beached whale. “Ughhhhhhhh.”

“Mina, get up! That’s so gross,” Sero stepped over her, disgusted.

Kiri checked the group, making sure everyone got off. “Where’s Kaminari?”

A distant screech sounded from the train, and Kaminari burst through the doors just as they were about to close, talking his place on the station floor beside Mina. You laughed. This happiness made you forget about Bakugo, if at least for a second. But his eyes were trained on you, watching you toss you head back in joy and look at everything with such a deep love.

You saw, for one second as you turned back towards him, that soft smirk he almost never had. And your heart beat faster.

“Okay everyone! Let’s go!”

[when-they-write-stuff]

Can you combine “Sometimes I just want to cuddle, okay? Is that so bad?” and “That tickles!” ? I love your writing

See, the thing was, Stiles knew werewolves were clingy.

He’d come to realize this from the moment he started spending more time at the loft. There was always a werewolf near or around or on him. Like, literally on top of him. Erica would plop down in his lap when Stiles was trying to do homework, Isaac would drop his feet into Stiles’s lap when he was watching TV, Boyd would lean up against his side and take an actual nap. 

Stiles had come accustomed to the fact that werewolves were clingy.

Except for Derek Hale.

Derek Hale, the big bad ‘I am the Alpha’ werewolf of Beacon Hills never got within five feet of Stiles. And he didn’t understand it; maybe he smelled bad, maybe Derek didn’t go for teenage boys (that sounded so much better in his head). But whatever the case was, Derek avoided him like the plague.

And at first, Stiles didn’t understand it. Then he felt vaguely hurt. And then, when he tried to sit next to Derek during pack movie night and the man purposely stood up and moved away, Stiles decided to do something about it.

Because dammit, if Derek wouldn’t be touchy feelzy with him, then Stiles would be touchy feelzy with Derek. He was determined to train the big bad Alpha of Beacon Hills to accept some love.

(Wait, not love. Totally not love).

It started with the little things. 

Stiles had been spending his summer at the loft more than he was spending it anywhere else and he’d come to notice that the others were too. Jackson had started coming to the pack trainings and of course, Lydia came with him. Scott was hanging out a lot more often too. He’d even started letting Derek attempt to teach him the ways of “Alpha” which were actual words that came out of his mouth and that made Stiles laugh for two days straight.

The point was, there were werewolves everywhere now. The entire pack was always around. And Stiles was getting a personalized game of ‘space invaders’ except for when he and Derek were in the same room.

So he had put together a plan. Or, less of a plan and more of an outline. A faint idea. Something he hoped would end up working, but he couldn’t exactly be sure.

Because it couldn’t be that hard to make excuses to get close to Derek, right? Stiles was determined to prove to him that not all touch was wrong. He just had to choose his battles.

Stiles was terrible at choosing his battles.

First, it was Stiles coming over long before training and purposely standing right next to Derek when he was making coffee. When the man would give him a strange look and try to shift away, Stiles would only grin and follow, which usually ended up becoming a game of tag around the kitchen counters.

He stopped doing that when Derek finally got tired and tipped a glass of cold water over Stiles’s head. Stiles had gone home that day cold and wet, and even more determined to make Derek accept him, even if he was a furry asshole.

From there, it became a pack night thing. Stiles would purposely wait until Derek had sat down and there was no more space anywhere else before dropping down at the end of the couch, situating so his legs were holding Derek captive against the cushions, and then he’d pretend he didn’t hear the man’s growling as the rest of the pack gave him looks like he was going crazy.

He wasn’t going crazy. Stiles just had a plan.

That particular plan ended up with him on the ground and Erica laughing hard enough to snort soda out of her nose, so Stiles thought maybe he should think things through a little more next time.

He was starting to wonder if he was… well, annoying Derek. Because the more Stiles tried to get all touchy-feely, the grouchier Derek became. It got to the point that even when Stiles brushed past him by accident, Derek would flash his eyes and show a bit of fang.

When training came one of the mornings four weeks later, Stiles wasn’t feeling so good about his supposed ‘plan’ anymore.

He moved over to plop down at Lydia and Allison’s side. There were always three out of five of the werewolves that would get shirtless during training and the three of them often lived for it.

Stiles would like to say he absolutely did not salivate over that though, thank you very much. He never ever felt a little gooey every time Derek knocked one of the betas flat and he could always keep his heartbeat and emotions in check when the man would glance over with red eyes.

That would be a lie, but Stiles would say it anyway.

But unfortunately, there was no show today. Because unfortunately, today was the day that Derek was more grumpy than usual and decided all onlookers could participate in training. 

Not that Allison needed it— she didn’t hesitate at the opportunity to kick Jackson’s ass. Lydia flat out declined— and nobody ever dared disagree with her— but Derek wouldn’t take no for an answer when Stiles tried to do the same.

Which might have been how he ended up facing down a smirking Erica with a feral look in her eyes. Stiles was pretty sure today was going to be the day he died.

The moment Derek said ‘go’, Erica was moving forward, Stiles was flailing away, and then he was being flipped onto his back and slammed against the floor.

The breath punched from his lungs. Stiles laid there for a moment and just gasped at the ceiling, stars circling above his eyes. Faintly, he was aware of Jackson laughing himself into a second death, and Erica looking immensely proud, and then there was a face hovering over his own as Derek kneeled at his side.

“That was terrible.”

“Gee,” Stiles gasped, still trying to find his breaths. “Thanks, Sourwolf. Fragile human here, in case you’ve forgotten. I get winded walking up the stairs into this place.”

Standing beside Erica, Boyd’s grin widened. Derek only rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles’s hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Your position was off from the start,” he said. “You retreated back instead of moving forward and didn’t even attempt to fight back when Erica came at you.”

“Yes, Derek, that might be because I was terrified for my life.”

“You need to know how to fight, Stiles, if you’re going to be facing the things that threaten Beacon Hills with the rest of the pack.”

Stiles glowered at him. “Excuse me, asshole, but I have a very fine baseball bat. One that I recently upgraded to metal, I’ll have you know. It can easily flatten skulls and if you’re not careful, I might have to give it a test run on angry Alpha werewolves.”

Derek’s eyebrows drew together and he just glared. Stiles sighed, brushing past him.

“Whatever, Derek, I can fend for myself. Just next time, don’t pit me against a homicidal blonde maniac on werewolf steroids— no offense, Erica—”

Suddenly there was a hand on his arm and Stiles found himself being flipped again. He hit the floor with a startled “uurff” and a few feet away, Scott looked horrified.

It took Stiles’s brain a moment to catch up. But when it did and he realized that it was Derek pinning him down, frustration rose in Stiles’s throat. He tried to wiggle loose but Derek’s grip only tightened on his arm and pain lanced all the way down from his shoulder. Stiles squeaked and went still, and Derek placed a knee on the small of his back, leaning forward.

“Would a baseball bat protect you against that?”

“Let me go grab it and we can try again asshole!”

“You need to know how to defend yourself without a metal pole,” Derek said. The man’s warm breaths against his ear would probably send shivers down Stiles’s spine on any other day but this time, all he did was glower harder.

“Get the hell off me, Sourwolf! Or I swear to god, I’m going to put wolfsbane in your coffee the next time you’re not looking.”

Derek sighed, but moved back, letting go of Stiles’s arm. He winced as he shifted it and slowly pushed himself up, his entire body screaming in pain. Jackson looked amused, Lydia just looked exasperated, and Allison looked a little sympathetic. Stiles ground his teeth together and turned to glare at Derek.

“Maybe next time, I’ll just know better than to turn my back asshole werewolves. Is that a better plan?”

“Stiles—”

Stiles just flipped him the bird and stalked out of the loft. He didn’t know why the hell Derek felt the need to call him out and put him in the spotlight because Stiles could defend himself just fine, thank you very much. 

He didn’t need the man’s help.

Lydia was allowed to go with the pack wherever they went and Derek didn’t get all grumpy with her. Yeah, the banshee could probably scream his ears out, but still. Stiles could be very deadly with a baseball bat, especially when it was metal.

“Stupid clingy but not clingy werewolves,” Stiles muttered, stalking toward Roscoe. 

No one followed him out of the loft so he was pretty sure he was getting a little over-irritated about nothing. But Derek had a way of getting under his skin that the other betas didn’t. And it didn’t help that Stiles was pretty sure the entire ‘training session’ was just payback for how close Stiles had been trying to get to Derek lately.

If the man didn’t like it, he could’ve just said something. He didn’t have to beat Stiles to half-unconsciousness and then insult his baseball bats.

Stupid clingy but not clingy werewolves.

His dad was still on a shift when he got home, so Stiles was free to slam as many doors as he wanted. He stalked up to his room and slammed that door extra hard, and then flailed back so hard as he turned around, that he rammed against the door and gave himself a whole new array of bruises.

Because Derek was sitting on the edge of his bed. Derek Hale was sitting on the edge of his bed with one eyebrow raised and Stiles didn’t even know how he’d gotten to his house first—

Oh, right. Werewolf.

Stupid grumpy growly werewolf that Stiles was currently very pissed at, that is.

“Get out of my house, asshole.”

“Stiles.”

“Don’t ‘Stiles’ me, Derek! I’m pissed at you!”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. Then he dropped his eyes to the floor. “Sorry.”

Stiles blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

“I wasn’t trying to call you out in front of the entire pack,” Derek said quietly. “But… it’s my job as your Alpha to make sure—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.”

Derek glowered at the floor. Stiles sighed and moved over, plopping down at his side. Derek glanced at the few inches between them and then started to shift sideways, and Stiles caught his arm before he could pull completely away. 

“What the hell is up with that?”

Derek froze. His face pale and his shoulders went rigid, but he still wouldn’t meet Stiles’s eyes. Quietly, Stiles curled his fingers into the man’s sleeve.

“Derek, why do you always pull away from me?”

The man didn’t answer for a long moment. Just when Stiles thought he wasn’t going to get an answer, heart sinking into his shoes, Derek shifted a little and raised his eyes. “It’s not… right.”

Stiles’s stomach did drop into his shoes then. “What?”

“It’s not right,” Derek said quietly. “You get close to me and then you smell like me and— and it’s not right. You’re not supposed to do that.”

“Do what, attempt to cuddle?”

Derek’s eyes snapped up and rounded. Stiles gave him a flat look.

“I was joking, Sourwolf.”

“Why.”

“Why what? Why am I joking, why am I attempting to cuddle, or why am I downright pissed that you won’t let me do any of those things?”

“Why do you care?”

Stiles stared at him. Derek fidgeted nervously and his fingers grasped at Stiles’s sheets, and Stiles realized then that he was dealing with an idiot. None of this was Stiles’s fault. Not exactly, at least.

It was Derek’s. Because Derek was a big bad grumpy Alpha of Beacon Hills who didn’t know how to accept the fact that he deserved nice things.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. Before Derek could react, Stiles was tackling him to the mattress and the man went shock-still. Red eyes stared at him and Stiles smirked, before rearranging himself so he was curled around Derek, the same way the betas often curled around him, and he was pretty sure there was no way Derek was escaping.

The man didn’t move a muscle. Stiles wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. But then, when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

“You can put this all on me,” Stiles said, burying his face into Derek’s neck. “Consider it like this: sometimes I just want to cuddle, okay? Is that so bad?”

“I—” the man tried to shift and Stiles squeaked as stubble rubbed over his forehead. Once more, Derek went stock-still. “Stiles?”

“That tickles.” 

“... Really, Stiles?”

“See,” Stiles mumbled into his neck. “I’m trying to teach you a lesson here. So you’re not allowed to move until I have cuddled everything that is Derek Hale and when we have a movie night tomorrow night, you’re going to let me sit right up against your side. Or nearly in your lap, if Erica decides to go with a horror film.”

He half expected Derek to throw him off. Or maybe rip out his throat. But the man only went lax with a sigh. “You’re an idiot.”

“That’s fair.”

“If you mention this to anyone, I’m going to kill you.”

“Also fair.”

Derek was quiet for a moment. Then he shifted and pulled Stiles futher into his chest, breaths warm against his forehead. This time, Stiles did shiver. He felt like he had the right to. “Thank you.”

Stiles didn’t say a word. Just smiled against his skin. 

Because the thing was, Stiles knew werewolves were clingy.

He’d come to realize this from the moment he started spending more time at the loft. There was always a werewolf near or around or on him. Like, literally on top of him. Erica would lay across him with Stiles was relaxing, Isaac would curl up in his lap when Stiles was playing video games, Boyd would use Stiles as a pillow and knock out for three hours straight. 

Stiles had come accustomed to the fact that werewolves were clingy.

Except for Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was an enigma. Derek Hale was a giant fluffy asshole that made things much more difficult than they had to be. But Stiles was determined to train the big bad Alpha of Beacon Hills to accept some love.

Yeah, love, totally love. He was a sap, okay? Sue him.

It started with the little things. And might have ended up with the Sheriff stumbling across his son and Derek Hale cuddling fast asleep on Stiles’s bed four hours later. 

Stiles decided they were both idiots, then.

- -

Thank you for the prompt, friend! I had so much fun with this one. Cuddle feels are my absolute favorite.

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[where-s-all-blue]

More University Headcanons!

Straw Hat Pirates Edition

Luffy

He's studying to become a photographer because he looked up to Roger, who himself was a professional photographer during the time he was alive.

Another reason for this is the fact that photographers get to see a lot of things their life, sometimes even danger, it's like an adventure.

Like most of his friends, he resides in Gold dorm and has done his fair share of stealing furniture for it.

He keeps a diary which he decorates with cute stickers and Polaroids.

He has a good eye, which helps him with setting the camera in just right way to get the perfect shot.

He's one of the louder residents which often makes people who need the silence to concentrate, like Law, go absolutely bonkers.

He's banned from the kitchen.

He keeps dragging people into the dorm.

Somehow? You just can't hate him.

Zoro

Decided to study social work when he realised how unfair the world could be.

Is also in the kendo club which he joined upon learning that the person who is seen as the best is its captain, he intends to best him.

Currently he supports one hundred and fifty-one wins and one loss.

The only loss was against Mihawk.

He's naturally good when it comes to dealing with people, but he truly shines when he's around kids.

He's often helping around the dorm by moving large objects in/out.

He was the one to clear the large area which later on came to support the workout area and the garden.

He often takes strolls on the woods located behind the dorm, he's easily the scariest being there.

His sense of direction is so bad that he was given his own device which tells him his location and how to get to the place he wants to go to. This device was made by Eustass and Usopp with Law telling them to turn it into a wrist watch which also measures Zoro's vitals so he can monitor his own health and sport related achievements. The data of his vital signs is transferred into his phone.

Usopp

He majors in engineering and thrives when it comes to inventions, his secondary is English literature.

He writes plays and stories on his spare time, some of them are pitched to the theatre club and art majors.

He's good at crafting and thus is often seen working on something for the dorm like name signs that all match the personalities of the residents.

He was the one who thought of turning the street sign poles into a fence around the dorm's garden.

He's also in charge of modifying the stolen property to ensure that nobody realises where they originally came from.

He was the one who turned that one car into a bed after he moved it inside in pieces. The car bed is in a room called "Silence Room" which was made to have no sounds get in or out of it. He and Killer designed the interior of it to help those who have hyper senses and are more proun to headaches (or just can't stand being around people too long). It's also used as a guest room from time to time.

He works the best with people who are smart like Sanji, Law and Eustass, he also gets very well along Chopper, the therapy dog that goes around the campus.

He's free spirited goof ball with very wide interests who gets along with almost everybody.

Being the jokester of the lot is his attempt to have people think of him as a good guy to be around with and to see that he's not just brain.

He struggles with seeing his own self worth and is very proun to feeling melancholic due to his high Intel making him realise things that he'd rather not know of. He has a low self-esteem because of being dismissed as a child due to his dreams and goals being too ahead of his time.

Sanji

Culinary arts and management major.

He was raised in a foster home, more specifically by the owner of the Baratier restaurant Zeff who he considers to be his dad more than his biological father.

He was kicked out of the Vinsmoke estate by his father Judge due to his wish to be a chef instead of becoming a lawyer or a doctor or a politician.

Technically he's still eligible of inheriting the throne of Germa Kingdom even if he was exiled.

He's still expected to marry a high class member of the society and thus Judge keeps messaging him about his choices, fully believing that Sanji will one day see his way and abandon his dream of being a chef in favour of the kingdom.

He even has a fiancé, Charlotte Pudding, though he never agreed to the scheme that was orchestrated by Vinsmoke Judge and Charlotte Linlin. Pudding also isn't too happy about the situation.

His foster father is the actual lecturer in charge of the culinary studies, but as he was in an accident and thus hospitalised, Charlotte Linlin is subbing him much to Sanji's demise.

He's one of the few people who who can cook in the dorm and he takes notice of other people's likes, dislikes and allergies.

Sanji's kindness is often noticed by others.

Nami

She's a architecture major, her second interest being banking.

When she moved into the dorm, she quickly noticed that the students who renovated it had no idea how things worked, so she had them redo few things. The dorm is now a lot easier to keep warm during the winter.

She was the one to pitch the idea of the Silent Room upon noticing how Law was struggling because of how loud the dorm had become as a result of the new first years moving in.

She works part time as a waitress at Baratier and she is known for her ability to negotiate the costs a lot lower that they usually would be.

She's a bit of a kleptomaniac, result of her growing up on a poor and unsafe area dictated by gangs.

She's also a honours student, who's part of the special program which basically ensures that she has enough money to buy her school items and food.

She often chats with the local witch coven to obtain more information, she also likes to hangout with Killer and Usopp.

Her best friend Vivi Nefertari is currently in an exchange program.

Chopper

A golden retriever akita mix.

He was originally Sabo's therapy dog, nowadays he's more or less the therapy dog of anyone who needs him. He still sticks by Sabo for the most of the time.

He's broken into the classrooms during lectures to deliver forgotten items to Sabo so often that he has his own attendance record and he's almost considered to be a student at this point.

His job includes going to the local pharmacy every Friday to pick up a specifically constructed herbal infusion packet and bring it to the Lair.

He's highly intelligent dog who was capable of deducing which herbs were part of the herbal infusion treatment and then retrieve the plants based on their scent.

He picked these herbs and spices from the garden of Gold Dorm.

His bestfriend is Bepo, a samoyed owned by Law, who also happens to be the only other dog on the campus.

Robin

Social Work major, secondary studies in history.

She chose her line of studies due to wanting to prevent other kids being forced to go through the same kind of neglect and abuse as she did.

She's fluent in multiple languages and writes her notes in one of the dead languages, which she self taught herself to read.

She prefers to keep her information confidential and she enjoys the confusion some of her antics cause.

She takes part in the weekly movie night and enjoys them greatly.

Franky

Robotics major.

The only member of the group who doesn't live in a dorm. Nobody knows if he even sleeps or eats, but if you need him, you can always find him form the workshop.

You need to drag him out forcibly to have him even leave the room.

Thanks to Luffy, he now visits the Gold dorm few times a week to hangout, but the second he sees something that gives him an idea, he bolts out back to the workshop.

100% workaholic, 0% sleep, 120% Cola.

Brook

Actual university cryptid.

Is literally dead and walking around.

Formerly a music major.

Nobody knows how long he's been there and frankly nobody cares, his flamboyant style is a mood and his cravings for food and drinks is something we all relate to.

He knows every nook and cranny of the campus.

He's been there so long that nobody even questions it and he even gets invited to university parties and to hang out.

The only time someone freaked out was when the group went to a fast food restaurant and forgot that the outside world isn't aware of him. He tipped the waiter generously with something that looked like an old coin. It was probably worth more than the whole restaurant.

If you talk to him, there's 80% chance of you triggering his natural response to anything which is singing and dancing.

He's literally a walking musical.

He's one of the few who has heard Katakuri's doughnut song and lived to tell the tale. Except that he's dead already yohohoho.

He's very likely to console you if you're not feeling okay.

When it comes to the modern technology and stuff, he's a bit confused, but has the right spirit.

Jinbe

The current captain of the karate club.

Nobody knows what he majors in nor from which dorm he's from.

When Shirahoshi from Atlantis (=Fishman Island) started her studies in the University, he was quick to form a protection team to her and her brothers from the members of the karate club.

He might be the instructor of the club? Apparently he's one of the strongest.

I woke up one morning and he was eating soba noodles in the kitchen, why and how is he in our dorm. Is he even a student here?!

Oh my god he's now fighting against Ace, I swear to god sport majors are so dramatic.

It was a tie. How am I supposed to feel about this.

They both are now emptying our fridge, someone please get them out.

[jasonbehrs]

something that i already know

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

As soon as Siwon says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong’s astute, masterful, beautiful mind… But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn’t provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: siwon, shindong, eunhyuk ships: shinwon, sihyuk genres: friendship, angst, romance themes: slice of life, one-sided crush, angst with a happy ending setting: high school into college; metro seoul area, south korea word count: 12.7k

read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad

A/N (05/01/2021): Hi, ELF! This is my first Super Junior fanfic :) Title comes from the Backstreet Boys song of the same name; cover image is made by me; and if you recognise anything in the fic, that means I don't own it. Happy reading!

~~~

It's never easy being the new kid in school, and Donghee is no exception. He has no friends; he has to play a lot of catch-up in the first few weeks because where his old teachers left off doesn't match up to where his new teachers are picking up; and he has to spend precious emotional energy acclimating to the culture and social politics.

Add in the fact that it's senior year, and he's at the most elite academy in Gyeonggi on a scholarship—he's seen this K-drama before. He knows how it ends.

"Hey! You're the new kid, Shin Donghee, right? Can I sit here?"

Admittedly, Tall, Bright, and Handsome doesn't usually come up to bully the new kid with such a charming smile on his face in the script, but Donghee still knows his role.

"Yeah, got it. Sorry. Didn't know this was your seat," he mumbles as he hurriedly packs up his lunch and books. He's not trying to make waves on his first day, thank you very much.

"No, no," T.B.H. puts out his hand to stop him from putting his planner away, and Donghee is shocked into stillness from the glaringly off-script performance that the other is putting on. "I meant, like, can I sit with you? I didn't know if you wanted to sit alone or not; but if you wanted the option for company, here I am."

Another winsome smile graces the other's face, and Donghee's eyes narrow. "Are you sure you wanna sit with the scholarship kid?" he asks sardonically. He isn't trying to get away anymore, but he's still not convinced he's welcome here.

Tall, Bright, and Handsome's light dims just a bit, but his pout is still effortlessly charming. It's almost offensive. "Come on. We're not like that here."

Donghee looks no further than just above the other's shoulder and sees a group of girls whispering and giggling in their direction. He looks back at the well-meaning but clueless hero of the story and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. T.B.H. looks over his shoulder to see what he saw, and he at least has the grace to be embarrassed when he turns back around.

Donghee is prepared to give a half-conciliatory, half-I told you so parting glance, but the other student keeps talking. "I'll admit, that's not a good look for us," he says with a grimace, "but would you believe me if I said they were acting like that because of me and not you?"

Considering he's been calling the guy 'Tall, Bright, and Handsome' in his head this whole time, yeah, he could believe it.

Hoping against hope that he isn't about to regret this, Donghee sits back down at the lunch table. T.B.H.'s smile is so bright, Donghee thinks he saw one of the guy's front teeth actually sparkle. "I'm Choi Siwon," he introduces as he extends his hand. Donghee shakes it and wryly thinks to himself that of course T.B.H.'s real name means 'cool.'

~~~

To nobody's surprise, Siwon is part of the popular crowd, which Donghee determines by the look on everyone's faces when Siwon invites him to sit with his friends at lunch the next day. The guys weren't exactly welcoming, but they were polite. He doesn't know whether maybe Siwon said something to them or not about being nice to the new kid; but honestly, he'll take it. He's still not entirely convinced that this is the setup for some sort of 'Carrie' situation or something. It's senior year after all, so prom is coming up.

It isn't until Siwon invites them all over to study together that things shift.

"Bro, what the fuck," Kangin says out of the blue, causing everyone to look up and causing Donghee to drop the pencil he was playing with. Kangin is staring at him—more specifically, his hand—and everyone's attention turns to him instead.

"Uh," he intones, not sure what is happening here and suddenly feeling the urge to look up.

"Do that again," Kangin demands, gesturing at Donghee's hand. His fingers twitch involuntarily at the command, but he genuinely has no clue what he's meant to do. He looks to Siwon with a clear plea for help on his face.

"Youngwoon, what gives?" Siwon asks, using Kangin's real name to snap him out of whatever is captivating the varsity baseball captain.

"Donghee was legit balancing a fucking pencil on his finger!" Kangin exclaims while gesturing helplessly at Donghee's hand.

Donghee understands immediately. "Ah, sorry. I forgot I did that." Without further prompting, he balances his pencil on its eraser at the tip of his middle finger. He moves his hand side to side for fun, showing off how the graphite tip stays roughly at the same point in the air all the while. With a flick of his finger, he launches the pencil up and catches it in mid-air, smoothly transitioning to end with a bow in his seat with the same gesture.

He looks up to find four slack-jawed teenage boys, and he brags, "I can do that with basically anything I can lift."

All pretenses of studying are summarily discarded in favour of testing this theory. Donghee easily balances notebooks, folding chairs, and even a curtain pole (dismantled from the window by an excited Heechul and reinstalled by an amused Siwon).

Once the others are thoroughly entertained, they don't want to go back to studying. Alas, they are at Siwon's house; as rich as he is, he doesn't have any convenient distractions (which Donghee surmises is the point of going to Siwon's to study in the first place). Kibum's the one to recommend just going to the local convenience store and walking around for no reason, which feels a lot like acceptance to Donghee.

In fact, it isn't long until he finds himself hanging out with some of the guys sans Siwon.

Kibum hands Donghee part of his deck for some trading card game he's never even heard of before, much more played; but after two rounds and a gradual learning of the rules, Donghee is now locked into a 1v1 match against Kibum, having just killed Heechul's last creature card.

"You sure your name's Shin Donghee and not Hee Shindong?" Heechul mutters as he throws his cards on the table. "Like, what can't you do?"

Donghee isn't paying him any attention then, instead supremely focused on using his impromptu green-black strategy to beat Kibum with his own deck.

So he's surprised when the next day Heechul slaps his back and says, "Yah! Shindong! I've been calling you for like five minutes!" as he falls into step with Donghee on his way to school. "Run me through the lymphatic system one more time." Donghee obligingly pulls out his notebook and helps his friend cram for their biology quiz that day, but his mind is somewhere else.

He's never had a nickname before, and he likes it.

~~~

Siwon is nothing like what he expects.

He spends most of his free time with the guys now, and he keeps coming back to that realisation.

Siwon is touchy. Like, more affectionate than a dog or a baby could be—combined. Kibum may be the youngest, but Siwon is the baby, and no one seems to mind treating him as such. Shindong is a man who likes his personal space, but Siwon's touches are so genuinely friendly and joyful that he finds himself readily inviting them into his bubble.

Siwon is expressive. Casual observers would never notice more than his charming smile and runway-ready neutral gaze, but he and the guys know better than that. Siwon talks with his whole body. His amusement is measured in congratulatory high-fives, and his stress in head shakes and tapping fingers. Shindong can always tell what he's thinking and feeling.

Siwon is down-to-earth. He's the richest in their friend group by a whole social class, but nothing about him plays on Shindong's financial insecurities. In fact, the first time Shindong hosted his friends over, the power went out, and Siwon was the only one who happened to recognise the strategically placed candles and matches around the living room. He wordlessly helped Shindong light them back up and suggested they take advantage of the dark to tell scary stories. Shindong will always be grateful for that.

Siwon is single. Sure, he doesn't give off playboy vibes, but he is certainly the poster child for monogamy. Shindong would not have been surprised to meet a loving, long-term girlfriend who is just as angelic as Siwon is and somehow twice as gorgeous, but no such person exists. Shindong has seen girls confess to Siwon literally once a day since they became friends (the record for a single day is currently four confessions), but Siwon graciously yet firmly denies them all.

Siwon is his best friend. It starts with study sessions, which turn into de-stress movie nights, which turn into sleepovers—and before he knows it, people from teachers to strangers start considering them a package deal. Shindong doesn't mind, of course. Siwon is less intense when he's not around the others, more introspective and goals-oriented—and Shindong can relate. It's great to have a friend who gets both sides of him and around whom he can comfortably show both sides. He didn't have one at his old school, but he's glad he has someone now.

~~~

"Want the rest of my pork?" Kibum offers Shindong at lunch. "Nah, I don't believe in cannibalism," Shindong says, even as he begins transferring the meat over to his own lunch tray.

The table is silent for a moment, but luckily he places his tray down just as Kangin decides to lay an open-palm slap to his back, laughing uproariously. Heechul is legitimately choking on his own food, and Kibum gives him a nod with a grin to acknowledge the joke.

Shindong feels pretty pleased with himself—he just knew that joke would land—and he glances over at Siwon to see the other's reaction. To his surprise, Siwon is staring at the table with a furrowed brow instead. Shindong frowns but lets it go. It's too bad Siwon was too busy thinking to hear his joke.

After lunch, the two of them only have the last class of the day together, and he notices Siwon still seems to be in a sour mood. Shindong racks his brain trying to remember if Siwon had a test he was worried about today. Maybe he feels like he failed?

"Hey, man," he calls out to Siwon after the final bell rings. "Wanna get some gyoza? On me."

Siwon's face brightens for the first time since lunch, and Shindong knows he made the right call; but in the time it takes for them to head to the Japanese place near his house and settle into a booth, Siwon's mood is dark again.

The table is quiet as Siwon plays with his food, making no move to eat any. Shindong stuffs two fried shrimp pieces in his mouth as casually as possible. Don't ask him why, but he thinks talking with his mouth full will help break the ice. "Hey, you good? You've been in a mood all day."

Siwon briefly meets Shindong's carefully neutral stare then averts his eyes to the table. "I don't like it when you do that," he mutters.

Shindong freezes with the next set of two gyoza halfway to his mouth. "Eat? Sorry man, I'm very diligent about my eat-anything-in-sight diet. If I stopped being fat, the girls at school would be all over me instead of you, which would disturb the balance of our friendship." He ends with a bite of dumpling and a cheeky grin.

"No, that! The self-deprecating jokes about your size!"

They both freeze. Siwon did not mean to blurt it out like that.

He deflates a little in his seat in embarrassment. "I don't like them. They make me sad," he continues in a much quieter tone.

Shindong did not see this coming and, frankly, has no idea how to react. "Um, you want me to stop being fat?"

"No, I want you to stop drawing attention to it. It's like you have to make a mean joke about your size first before anyone else can. No one in the group would ever be mean to you about it; I wouldn't let them," Siwon states adamantly. He means every word. The second one of the others crosses a line, he wouldn't hesitate to make sure they never, ever did it again.

The words are out before Shindong fully thinks about them. "You can say the word 'fat,' Siwon. Newsflash, I am fat. I'm as fat as you are tall. It's just something about me. I won't hesitate to make a fat joke any sooner than Heechul would hesitate to make a bi joke." His frustration surprises even himself, so he takes a sip from his water to calm down.

Siwon takes that as his cue to plead his case, and pleading he is. "It doesn't bother you that that's the part of yourself you decide to play up for the jokes? You're a great dancer, and you're quick on your feet—literally and figuratively! You'd be so great at, like, slapstick or something!" Shindong snorts, but Siwon forges on. "I just don't like seeing my friends laugh at you for… for being fat when you're so much more than that."

Shindong doesn't say anything, just lowers his head, and Siwon sighs. "You want to make a fat joke, don't you." "AND I'M SO MUCH ALREADY—okay. I'm done, I'm done."

Siwon withers and lets his head drop to his arms on the table. Shindong laughs, all tension dissipated. "So, this is clearly bothering you a lot," he needlessly observes. Siwon nods his head without lifting it up, and Shindong takes pity on him. "Alright, I'll try to tone it down. Or maybe I'll do like you said and just sprinkle in other kinds of jokes. No one likes a one-trick pony anyway."

Siwon peeks up through his eyelashes, and Shindong nods faux-sagely. "And maybe in the future when I'm rich and can afford therapy, I'll find out you're right and my brand of humour was simply a defense mechanism for some deeply internalised fatphobia all along. Then you could say, 'I told you so.'"

Siwon shakes his head resolutely. "That's not something I want to be right about."

Shindong shrugs in a 'suit yourself' manner and goes back to eating, and Siwon follows suit.

After a stretch of companionable silence, Siwon speaks up again. "I knew you're fat—I know it—but I don't think I understood that being fat was a part of you. Thank you for giving me a chance to understand you better. I thought I was intervening in something unhealthy, but I see now that that wasn't as righteous as I thought it was." He pauses then and doesn't continue until Shindong looks up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry if I came off as insensitive or, worse, embarrassed. You don't embarrass me, Donghee."

Shindong looks back down at his food, unsure of what the emotion is in Siwon's voice as the other said his real name. "I know, but thank you."

~~~

Shindong is everything he didn't know he needs.

As the school year progresses, Siwon finds himself feeling lighter and lighter, and he can trace all of his growing juvenescence directly to his new best friend.

Shindong values hard work. The other guys are great at their own things, but they're missing that fire under their butts that makes them actually try. Shindong doesn't just put in the effort; he also appreciates the challenge and sees it as an opportunity instead. Shindong empowers Siwon to embrace his own challenges in a way that he didn't feel like he could do until Shindong came around.

Shindong tries new things. Siwon is a rather adventurous guy himself, but that's not what he means. Shindong picks up and drops hobbies as quickly as Heechul switches partners, and he's amassed a great wealth of knowledge as a result. He's dynamic, and Siwon could never get bored of the way Shindong talks about his niche interest du jour.

Shindong speaks his mind. His friend group is made up of some pretty lax guys, which is great until some of them get into an argument. They never really talk things out, instead waiting until it's no longer annoying to be in the same room and just choosing to let it go. When Shindong is offended, you'll know. When he's wrong, he'll admit it. It does lead to some tension at first, but they all end up better for it as a result, and Siwon wishes he could be that brave.

Shindong trusts him. When Siwon was planning on hosting the guys over at his house for Kangin's birthday since he has an indoor pool and hot tub, Shindong shyly asked him to think of something else because he's afraid of water. That was a request Siwon was more than happy to oblige if it meant including Shindong in the festivities.

Shindong doesn't need him to be 'on' all the time. One time Kangin invited himself over to one of their hangouts—he and Shindong had planned to read the newspaper together to catch up on current events and financial affairs—and he got bored and complained that they should do something more fun. Before Siwon could worry Shindong felt the same way, the other had sassily defended their brand of bonding and just told Kangin to leave if he didn't like it. Siwon loves the fact that Shindong cherishes that quiet time together as much as he does.

Siwon thinks he maybe just loves Shindong.

~~~

Shindong slides into the seat beside Siwon in their first shared class of the day just as he slides an envelope across Siwon's desk. The envelope happens to have the same seal as the university into which Siwon is planning on matriculating. They offered him a spot on the varsity basketball team and sponsored on-campus living, and Mama Choi didn't raise no fool.

Siwon raises an eyebrow in interest, and Shindong simply points at the envelope with his chin. Siwon takes that as the invitation it is, and he pulls out the letter inside.

Congratulations, Donghee! You have been accepted…

Siwon whips his head up to look at Shindong, who has the largest shit-eating grin on his face.

They need to talk about this. Now.

"Seonsaengnim!" Siwon abruptly interrupts the teacher's lecture with his hand straight in the air. He ignores all the eyes that turn to him in shock. "Donghee isn't feeling too well. Can I take him to the nurse?"

All attention shifts to Shindong, who improvises in stride. "Ughhhhhnnnn," he groans pitifully, slouching over on his desk for added effect.

"Very well, then," the teacher waves off. Siwon stands up and bows hastily before half-guiding, half-dragging Shindong out the door. "Awwwwwwgggggghhhh," Shindong keeps up the ruse as he stumbles out, affecting delirium.

Once they're out of sight from the doorway, they run down the halls until they reach the bathroom, trying without success to contain their giggles along the way. "Couldn't give me a head's up back there?" Shindong teases as he sits on the edge of a sink, lightly panting.

"Couldn't give me a head's up that you were applying to my university?" Siwon punches Shindong's shoulder, acting affronted, but he swoops in for a bone-crushing hug immediately afterwards.

Shindong awkwardly returns the hug. (Siwon pinning his arms to his side means he can only reach Siwon's elbows.) His voice is quiet when he says, "My hopes were already up. I didn't want to get yours up, too."

Siwon gets it, so he lets it and Shindong go. The excited smile stays on his face, though. "Are you gonna go?"

"I don't know, man. They gave me a scholarship, but that just brings the tuition cost down to the same price as the local uni. I'd still have to get a job or a work-study to help offset the costs; and on top of that, I'd be so far away from home…"

"... But you're willing to go through all that just to keep going to the same school as me?" Siwon offers cheekily, squashing that incredibly light feeling in his chest with humour.

Shindong rolls his eyes. "I was gonna say, 'But all that is doable, and hey, at least you'll be there for me to mooch off of,'" he says with an attitude, but the corners of his lips quirk up at the end.

"You're right. I'll be there for you," Siwon affirms. Something about the serious way he said that makes Shindong feel like he's missing something, but he brushes it off. He was a little nervous about going so far away for school, but he has a feeling he'll be fine with Siwon around.

~~~

Siwon sidles up to Heechul, who casually throws his arm around the newcomer's shoulders despite the height difference. "How's my favourite wallet doing?" Heechul teases.

They're the only two to share this free period, and they often spend it outside, chatting, listening to music, doing homework, whatever. This time, Siwon finds Heechul leaning against a wall and people-watching.

"What's your read on Shindong?" Siwon asks as casually as possible. He's hoping he doesn't need to explain further, and luckily Heechul doesn't need clarification. Heechul knows what Siwon means.

He also knows: "Give up before it's too late."

Siwon's hopes plummet. "Really?" he asks, face and voice coloured by obvious disappointment.

Heechul looks over at Siwon and realises it is, in fact, too late for the other. His heart clenches for his long-time friend, and Heechul finds himself equivocating out of a need to assuage him. "Maybe I'm wrong for once. Like, what do I know? I'm just 18."

Siwon tries on a bright smile. "Yeah, maybe. There's gotta be a first time for everything, right, hyung?"

But now is not one of those times, and Heechul knows it. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though." He tries on a reassuring grin and a friendly knock on Siwon's shoulder.

He knows it looks more like a grimace, and he knows Siwon is ignoring that. He just doesn't know how long it'll take before Siwon's heart breaks.

He may not have had Heechul's fullest support, but Siwon has spent Too Many days thinking about this to go back now. It took long enough as it is to even get to this point; but if he's being honest with himself, he knew it was only a matter of time.

He finds his opportunity on their way home from school the week before showtime.

"Shindong, wanna go to prom with me?" "What?"

Shindong gives him a look so incredulous, Siwon is reminded of one of those dogs with smushed faces. The thought makes him smile even though his heart feels simultaneously too heavy and too fast.

"Should I, um, should I repeat myself?" he asks while trying to hide his shaking hands by grabbing onto his backpack straps.

"I'm just… so confused. Didn't Kwon Boa ask you to prom yesterday? Did she dump you already? What did you do?!"

In truth, Siwon turned her down as soon as she asked him, but saying that now would be unhelpful for his purposes.

"Even if you did somehow fuck up your chance with the prettiest, most sought-after girl in school, you still could ask literally anyone to be your date? Why would you go the friend route for prom? It's not even a valid Plan Z," Shindong continues.

Siwon pouts. "If I can ask anyone, why can't I ask you?"

Shindong is unimpressed, and Siwon wavers in his conviction. He wasn't originally going to tell him, but…

This could be it. This could be his chance to confess to Shindong.

There's always the chance that Shindong would reject him, of course. He'd probably use Siwon's own technique against him, too; that would be pretty pathetic. Then he'd promise that this wouldn't affect their friendship, except it will because he'll be too awkward around Siwon; and slowly but surely, he'd pull away from the other until Siwon finds himself at university, alone and painfully aware of how close he is to his best friend who is completely out of reach—oh God, of course he can't confess to Shindong.

The aforementioned snaps his fingers in Siwon's face, and Siwon resolutely sticks to his plan. He throws a casual arm around Shindong's shoulder and forces them to keep walking. "I heard from the seniors before us that prom's more fun with friends anyway. Why go with some girl I don't know when I can go with you?"

"Siwon, I know you're lying to me."

"What?" Siwon's step falters.

"We're best friends, of course I know." Besides the fact that Siwon is unconsciously telegraphing, the other guys have found dates already. Siwon would have brought it up with all of them if he really wanted to go with friends.

Siwon bites his bottom lip, waiting for whatever fallout comes from his decision to open this can of worms.

Shindong sighs and slips his hand into Siwon's. He's learned touching helps. "It also means I know when to let it go. I'll go to prom with you, flower boy."

Siwon cannot contain himself. "HE SAID YES!" he yells into the sky as he runs around, hooting and hollering in unadulterated jubilation.

Shindong shakes his head with annoyed fondness as he continues walking home, expecting Siwon to catch up with him once he's tired out.

(And it turns out Siwon's seniors were right: prom is a lot more fun with friends.)

~~~

Their final hurrah takes place at the height of the summer. Between family vacations and Siwon moving in early for the summer basketball bootcamp the university is making him attend, it's the only time they'll have where all five are available before the fall comes and scatters them away.

Siwon's family lets them borrow one of their cars for the day, and they make the maknae drive them all the way to the beach as early as they could go (read: as early as Kangin could wake up). The day progresses with plenty of frisbee on the sand, frolicking in the sea, and flirting at the food shacks. The ever present feeling that this may be the last time all of them are gathered together in a long time is never lost on any of them, so they make the most of every moment, earning them unheeded glares from the lifeguard on duty.

Sunset finds them around a small bonfire near the surf. To no one's surprise, Kangin managed to lift some beers from his parents, so they drink as they talk and watch the embers float up into the gradually darkening sky. Gone with the sun is the high energy from the day, leaving behind a calmer and more contemplative atmosphere.

Heechul speaks up after a comfortable stretch of silence. "So, I already know what those two fogies are doing come fall," he says while pointing to where Siwon and Shindong sit on opposite sides of the fire, "but what about you guys?" he directs towards Kangin and Kibum. "All I know is that college really isn't the cards for you."

Kibum ducks his head shyly. "I, uh, made it past the first round of auditions at MS Entertainment."

"WHAT?!" "Like, the MS Entertainment!?" "Um, when was this?!" "You're thinking of joining the entertainment industry?"

The last question surprisingly comes from Siwon, and the other guys shoot him a look. Siwon lifts his hands up in defense. "It's just that, Kibum, I've never even heard you sing."

Kibum shakes his head. "No, I wanna be an actor. I realised it after I missed out on auditions for the school play. For just a few hours a day, it'll be nice to pretend I'm not me. I think I could be really good at it if I got the chance." The guys nod, knowing very well how Kibum struggles to be and express himself without pretense.

"I can't wait to see you on TV one day, man," Shindong says with a smile. "If you book a commercial, I am buying one thousand units of whatever you're selling. I don't care what it is. I'll end up with a thousand pairs of jeans if I must," Kangin jokes.

Kibum grins appreciatively and nods towards Kangin in turn. "What about you, then?"

Kangin puffs out his chest with pride. "I'm gonna start at a baseball development camp out in Gangwon. If I work hard and play my cards right, I might get recruited at one of the farm teams in the Futures League. It would be awesome if I got into one of the Seoul clubs, just so I could stay close to home."

Shindong smirks. "Okay, let's say you had to go to a southern team. Which one would you pick? 1, 2, 3…"

"The Dinos."

Heechul barks out a laugh. "If you think I'd go all the way to fuckin' Changwon just to see your sorry ass… Well, a bitch might."

Siwon quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What is the self-proclaimed biggest star in the universe, the Great Kim Heechul, doing instead?"

"Whatever it takes, man," Heechul says with a snort. "I'll get some part time jobs here, travel a little there… Just figure life out as it comes."

Kibum nods, well-acquainted with Heechul's myself-against-the-world attitude. Shindong, for his part, tries his best to offer a smile without looking pitying. He can't help but feel like Heechul is making his life harder for himself than it has to be—but now's not the time, and neither is he the person, for that conversation.

Kangin counters, "You might find yourself in Gyeongsang anyway then, hyung."

"Yeah; and if you were paying attention to me, you would have known I acknowledged that already, dumbass. Clean the wax outta your ears."

"How about I clean your clock instead!" Kangin yells as he launches at Heechul, and they start wrestling in the sand.

Shindong watches, reveling in the familiarity of the moment, and thinks about how close he was to not having any of this. "When I first moved here, I was pretty sure I was gonna spend the school year alone." The words come out of his mouth without prompting; but now that they're out, he finds he actually has something to say.

The boys turn their attention to him, Kangin and Heechul halting their bickering and sitting in place where they found themselves on the sand, and Shindong continues. "You know. I was the new kid, I was only able to afford the school because of my scholarship, I'm fat. If life were like a TV show, that wouldn't have been the most successful combination of factors." He quirks the corners of his lips up in a wane half-smile, then turns his gaze from the fire to the earnest faces of his friends. "But I met you guys, and nothing happened like I thought it would. Thanks for giving me a chance."

"Aish," Kangin says as he gets up and moves back towards the group. He stops behind Siwon and places a hand on his shoulder. "Don't thank us; thank this guy. He texted us one day all, 'I invited the new kid to sit with us at lunch tomorrow. Try not to be dicks.' If it weren't for him, I probably would have pushed you into the lockers once or twice just for fun."

"I probably would have helped," Kibum says with a shrug.

"I probably would have filmed it," Heechul pipes up.

Siwon waves their comments away with good humour. "You guys aren't that mean. Maybe you would have slapped the books out of his hands, but that's really it."

"Maybe we aren't mean now, but that's because you made us soft. Remember when I made Go-seonsaengnim cry in freshman year just with a glare?"

The conversation readily turns to their early high school memories, which Shindong would normally have loved hearing about, but his attention is elsewhere.

The dim light afforded by the fire casts impermanent shadows on Siwon's face that alternately highlight his boyish features and give him the appearance of a grown man. Shindong watches this and feels like he's seeing the present blurring into the future before his very eyes, and he finds it especially poignant that Siwon is the focal point of that illusion considering his role in changing Shindong's own life.

He's going to miss his friends and the gentle feeling of home he managed to cultivate for himself among them, but at least he won't have to miss Siwon.

~~~

College is harder than Shindong thought it would be, but it's easier in other ways too. He plays the first semester safe (he's not trying to get his scholarship revoked before the first year is over, thank you very much); but when the second semester comes around, he knows what liberties he can take with himself to have more fun without sacrificing his studies.

So when the volleyball team holds a party and invites the basketball team, Siwon offers his plus one to Shindong, and he double-checks that he doesn't have a shift at the campus mailroom the next day… well, he doesn't say no.

It isn't the first time he's gotten drunk (there's no way you could be in Siwon's friend group for a year without sustaining at least one hangover); but after a whole semester and winter of working and studying practically non-stop, the lack of inhibitions feels better than it ever had before.

Siwon is far more drunk, however. He is as clingy as ever, introducing Shindong to all of his basketball friends (and even some strangers) and constantly slurring "I miss youuu" into his ears.

He would hate it except he loves it. He misses the guy, too, after all.

"Shindong! Let's go see the stars!"

Siwon drags Shindong to the backyard of the house holding the party, no less noisy but definitely less crowded. He happily settles down onto one of the logs around an unlit bonfire and pats the space next to him in a clear invitation. The happy grin on his face is replaced with a pout when Shindong decides to sit on a different log just to tease him, but that doesn't stop him. Siwon just moves to Shindong's log and cuddles into his friend's side, enjoying the warm feeling spreading inside him. Is it the beer or the company? In any case, it's the most cosy he's felt since school started.

Siwon chances a glance upwards at Shindong. Not for the first time, he cannot help but notice how soft the other looks in the moonlight. His cheeks always look so fluffy and pinchable, but Siwon has never wanted to hold Shindong's face more than he does right now.

When he notices that Shindong notices that he is looking at him, Siwon is just drunk enough to hold his gaze.

Siwon is just drunk enough to move his face forward, as slow as the movement ends up being. Maybe that's because he's drunk, too. He's definitely not sober enough to stop.

Then he's drunk in a different way, because Shindong is the one to bring their lips together.

The moment is perfect, even more perfect than Siwon had ever dreamed of—and oh, did he dream. In the back of his mind, he thinks about going to church three times a week from now on to thank God for this blessing.

He wants to deepen the kiss, he wants to lean closer, he wants to touch—but just as he thinks about doing any of that, Shindong pulls away with a giggle. Siwon laughs too, giddy and uninhibited as he is. He reaches for Shindong's hand and wonders how long the other has felt the same way as he did.

The hand for which Siwon had been reaching escapes to throw a bro-y, friendly punch into Siwon's shoulder. Siwon is mildly confused, but nothing can wipe the smile from his face now. He just kissed Shindong! Is right now too soon to be calling each other boyfriends?

"That wasn't so bad, right?" Shindong says as he looks back up at the sky.

Uh, right. Understatement of the century. That was amazing, stupendous, earth-shattering, future-defining—

Shindong keeps talking. "Not exactly how I thought that was gonna happen, but there's no planning for these sorts of things anyway. What's college for if not experimenting and cutting loose?"

Siwon's lovestruck internal monologue stutters to a stop. "What?"

"Don't get me wrong, you're the prettiest guy I know—full stop—but if kissing you doesn't make me feel something, then I definitely must be straight." Shindong starts cackling then, like he said the funniest joke in the world.

Siwon's hearing fails him, but all he can think about now is how badly he wants to rewind time.

He wants to go back to before he knew what Shindong's lips felt like.

He wants to go back to before he had the first drink.

He wants to go back to before he even met Shindong.

"I gotta go," he manages to say, crushed as he is under the weight of the guilt he felt when that last thought traitorously passed through his head.

Shindong laughs harder when he watches Siwon stumble away. Poor guy must be so drunk. He might not even make it to the bathroom in time.

~~~

Avoiding Shindong isn't as hard as one would think. They're different majors. They live in different residence halls. He has the basketball team too, and Shindong was never the kind of person that keeps up with all his friends' activities anyway. A little "Sorry, I'm meeting someone for a project" here, a little "Sorry, Coach is slamming us with extra practise" there, and a whole semester passes by without spending extended time with his best friend and—he's not afraid to say it now—the love of his young life.

And that's exactly why he needs to avoid Shindong. He can't face Shindong casually right now—not when the only thing that will be occupying his mind is the look on Shindong's face immediately before, not when his palms itch to touch the other's cheeks so he can fold that feeling into his memory. He can't know what it's like to kiss Shindong and not be able to kiss him again.

So he's depressed, he's lonely, and he's irritable—exactly the kind of mindset you want to be in when you meet someone new.

"Hi, I don't think we really talked before," the lanky kid says as he stands up straight from where he was leaning beside the open door to Siwon's room. "I'm Hyukjae, but my friends call me Eunhyuk. I live down the hall." He points over his shoulder with his thumb as if Siwon didn't know which hall he was referring to, and the gesture immediately gets on his nerves.

Siwon glares at him, and the guy—Hyukjae; they're not friends—smiles a wide, gummy grin. "Sorry to bother you like this, but I noticed you were taking your stuff to your car. Are you packing your things into storage for the summer?" Siwon nods mutely, unsure where the other is going with this and approximately three seconds away from blowing him off.

"Listen, I have, like," he pauses to rummage around in his pockets and count the pieces of paper he pulls out, "10000 won on me right now. If I give you that and pay for gas and—I don't know—buy you dinner afterwards, would you help me move mine into storage too?"

Siwon's glare turns incredulous, which makes Hyukjae facepalm. "Oh! And of course I would help you move your stuff. That's a given. Although… you certainly don't look like you need the help."

At this last statement, Eunhyuk gives him a quick once over, and Siwon bristles. This whole situation is really grating on him. Why did this guy look at him like that? Why does it bother him that he did? Why is he supremely against this mildly reasonable request?

(Well, he knows why, and that's only adding to his frustration.)

Hyukjae senses how close Siwon is to turning tail, so he resorts to drastic measures. "Bro, help me out," he begs as he clasps his hands and falls to his knees. "I live all the way out in Ilsan, and I don't have a car. I would be, like, super indebted to you!"

"Ilsan isn't that far away," Siwon points out unimpressedly.

"Indebted!"

He stares at the boy's pout, the hands grasping cumbled bills of won, and the mullet-esque hair and thinks he might actually be more pathetic than even Siwon feels these days.

"... Alright."

Siwon ignores the other's resulting cheers as he returns to his task. He figures that the sooner he gets this over with, the faster he can go back home for the summer.

~~~

Like Siwon said, Ilsan isn't that far away.

As in, he and Hyukjae didn't have the worst time together while moving their stuff, Hyukjae decided they are now friends, and Hyukjae commutes into Seoul every other weekend to pester Siwon into hanging out with him.

In the beginning, he had no problems brushing the other off. Hyukjae isn't bad people necessarily, but he's a brat.

Case in point: The first time he actually agreed to hang out, Hyukjae forgot his wallet and Siwon begrudgingly paid for their excursions that day. Hyukjae hasn't brought his wallet with him since.

After that first time, however, it became harder and harder to turn Hyukjae down. He's depressed, he's lonely, he's irritable—but somehow none of that has pushed Hyukjae away yet. Against his better judgement, Siwon cannot help but be drawn to the individual who is experiencing the worst Siwon has to offer and chooses to spend time with him anyway. It's… nice.

The summer proceeds like that: Eunhyuk having a new hare-brained adventure haphazardly planned for the day, Siwon's wallet finding itself thousands of won lighter each time, and Siwon slowly getting out of his funk and coming back to himself.

Even as the summer draws to a close and their event options dwindle down, Eunhyuk manages to find something for them to do. A couple of weeks before they're set to move back in for the beginning of the next school year, Eunhyuk takes Siwon to a trendy new pop-up cafe in Itaewon.

Siwon likes it. It's lively but not too loud, the food isn't half bad, and the interior is fresh-looking without being overly cute.

He doesn't say any of this though, mostly because Eunhyuk isn't really saying anything either.

It's a testament to how much he feels like his old self again that he strongly considers asking the other what's wrong. Old Siwon wouldn't have hesitated. New Siwon rationalises if something is really bothering the other, Eunhyuk would say something himself.

He's halfway through his cheesecake when Eunhyuk lets his fork clatter to his plate. "Siwon, there's never gonna be a good time or a good way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it. I like you."

Well, of course Eunhyuk likes him. He basically spent the whole summer with Siwon. The surprising part here is that Siwon means it when he says, "I like you, too."

Eunhyuk's eyes do something funny, then he shakes his head. "No, like—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and on the exhale he says, "Wanna go on a date with me?"

"... Oh."

And then Siwon's senses shift. His heart beat speeds up just a fraction more than it had been before Eunhyuk began talking, but he can't hear the crowd of the cafe anymore. Everything behind Eunhyuk's determined, hopeful face blurs into a mess of colours and light. When he swallows, he still has the aftertaste of the strawberry syrup from the cheesecake on his tongue.

"Um, okay," is all he says, but he can feel his lips tug upward in a small grin without his direction.

Siwon is greeted with a gummy smile, familiar yet new, and he cannot help but focus in on the revealed shade of pink.

~~~

Honestly, he forgets about Siwon.

There's only so many times he can get blown off before he stops trying to reach out in the first place, you know? Then midterms came around, then it was finals season, then he was too wrapped up in trying to find an on-campus job for the summer so that he wouldn't have to waste money and time moving out of his residence hall… Before he knows it, it's been a year since he and the guys had their beach day, and he uncomfortably realises he can't remember the last time he spoke to Siwon. Was it at that party in the beginning of last semester? That can't be right.

And yet, for a reason he cannot explain, he doesn't immediately reach out to Siwon first.

He starts off with Kangin, who hasn't made it to a team yet but has met with several scouts already and believes it's just a matter of time. Heechul answers him in English, of all things, and he has to use a translation app to find out that Heechul spent seven months in Australia as a freelance Hangul-speaking museum guide before coming back to South Korea to work at a brewery out in Jeju-do. When he texts Kibum asking if Kangin had made good on his promise to buy 100 units of whatever his latest commercial was selling, Kibum simply says, "lol."

Finally, the only one left is Siwon. Shindong is weirdly anxious to talk to him again, but he firmly pushes that aside.

He tries a text at first; but after two days with no response, he ups the ante.

"Hello?"

"Siwon-ah!" he cheers into the receiver. It had been so long since he heard Siwon's voice, and just the sound of it lifts his mood.

"Shindong-hyung, you called me." Siwon's voice sounds incredulous, and it makes him laugh. They're not people for phone calls, admittedly. It wasn't necessary back when they spent almost all their waking moments together.

"Hey, if you had just texted me back, I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures."

Silence, then chuckles on the other end of the line. "Yeah, that one's on me, isn't it? I did that thing where I read it but only replied to it in my head."

Shindong waits for more, but Siwon doesn't continue from there. "So, um, what's been up with you lately?" he asks stiltedly. He frowns; he and Siwon don't do small talk. He tries again, "Did I mention I'm on campus for the summer? I got a job as the front desk guy at the Alumni Office. It has its boring moments, but at least I didn't have to move out of the dorms. I know some of the guys on my floor even rented a storage unit so that they wouldn't have to move back and forth with their stuff, which is just… so far beyond my budget right now, haha."

Siwon makes a funny noise like he choked on his own spit. "Siwon?!" Shindong calls concernedly into the line.

"It's fine, hyung," Siwon croaks out. "Listen, you kinda caught me at a bad time. I'd love to talk more, but I gotta go."

"Oh, sure," Shindong says in surprise. "See you when the school year starts up again, yeah?"

He holds onto the phone tightly. He doesn't know what he's wanting to hear exactly, but he waits in anticipation for Siwon's response anyway.

"Yeah, of course. See you later, Shindong."

The line clicks silent, and Shindong doesn't let himself read into it. Like Siwon said, it was just a bad time.

~~~

The new school year isn't terribly different from the previous one, but Siwon likes what it brings. He's still balancing the basketball team and classes, but he has Eunhyuk now. Eunhyuk introduces him to his best friend Donghae, and college starts feeling less like something happening to him and more like something he's living.

Early into the new semester finds the three of them grabbing lunch on campus, Siwon and Eunhyuk playing footsie under the table and ignoring Donghae's gags in the background. They're not really talking about anything important, so the conversation is easily derailed by the sound of someone hollering from across the student union.

"Siwon! Ya, Siwon!"

Siwon temporarily freezes. He didn't expect to hear that voice again so soon. He can feel his face do something funny as his body and his mind fight for control over what to do. He wants to play it cool; he wants to ignore the voice; but more than anything, he wants to see Shindong again. He has ever since the summer.

He listens to that part and turns around in his seat to wave. The sight of Shindong's eyes scrunched up in happy half-moons behind his thick-rimmed glasses makes his heart ache even as his body relaxes from tension he didn't know he was carrying. He misses Shindong.

"Siwon, you brat! I didn't hear from you much this summer, and I barely saw you last semester!" Shindong laughs jovially before turning to the other two at the table, and Siwon is surprised to remember they were there. "Hey, I'm Donghee, but you've probably heard this guy call me Shindong. Mind if I join you?"

Siwon eagerly motions for Shindong to grab a chair, and Donghae says, "Hey, Donghee. I'm Donghae." as if it were the most clever observation in the world.

Siwon eyes Shindong's politely amused grin and cannot help but laugh. God, he forgot how funny Shindong could be even when he isn't trying. The other brings a seat over to their table and chats pleasantly with Donghae, and Siwon takes the moment to take in the changes in his best friend.

His face is slightly less pudgy, but the puffy round cheeks Siwon loves so much are fully on display. He has a tiny ponytail sticking straight up from the crown of his fluffy hair, and it reminds Siwon of elementary schoolers on picture day in a way that warms his heart. He notices the suspenders and khakis combination that the other is wearing and remembers how hard it was for Shindong to get used to not having to wear a uniform to school anymore. It seems he finally settled on something that worked for him, as nerdy as it ended up looking. (Somehow, that is endearing, too.)

"Siwon, what's your weekend look like? We should do something, just you and me. Grab some newspapers, eat gyoza, catch up. You in?"

Siwon would like nothing more and almost automatically agrees. Luckily, before he could land himself in hot water with his excitement, his brain supplies that he and Eunhyuk were supposed to picnic in the park this weekend. He flicks his eyes over to his boyfriend, asking without words if he could go.

Eunhyuk nods, so Siwon says yes, and it feels like a piece of him that was asleep finally wakes up.

~~~

They're best friends again in no time.

Sure, there were some awkward instances when Shindong or Siwon would refer to memories that the other wasn't there for in a stilted reminder that there is time lost between them, but they easily catch each other up and fall back into old habits. Their lives intertwine in the seamless way they did back in high school, and Siwon's heart feels so full.

He can't help but ignore the red flags as a result. The more active he and Shindong are in each other's lives, the more he is aware of the fact that Shindong does not know the full extent of his relationship with Eunhyuk; and he admits he has made small—inconsequentially, really—concessions to keep it that way.

He's starting to suspect that Eunhyuk knows something is up, too. It brings him a little bit of guilt, but it's not like he's completely avoiding his boyfriend (been there, done that). Besides, the other hasn't said anything. He even invites Siwon over one weekend, so Siwon figures he probably hasn't messed up too badly yet.

When cuddling on the bed with legs intertwined while watching a movie turns into roaming fingertips and forgotten laptops droning on in the background, Siwon feels content like never before.

"Why does it feel like it's been forever since I kissed you?" he murmurs into Eunhyuk's hair afterwards, planting a kiss right there and embracing his boyfriend closer to his chest. He'd love to fall asleep like this…

But then Eunhyuk gently releases himself from Siwon's hold and sits upright in bed. "I have a feeling it has to do with how Donghee is hanging out with us a lot now," he says as he pulls his clothes back on.

Siwon's disappointment clears when his mind, unbidden, conjures up the memory of Shindong's reaction when he caught Heechul rounding second base with his date when they all went to the movies together one time. "Yeah, Shindong isn't big on PDA," he says as he follows Eunhyuk's lead.

"Sure, but I'm your boyfriend," Eunhyuk emphasises. "Hand-holding, kissing… stuff like that is pretty typical for most couples. He knows what he would be getting into when he hangs out with us, and he still shows up. Doesn't seem to me like it would really bother him."

Siwon's movement falters. So Eunhyuk has noticed. "I guess I'm just trying to be a little courteous," he hurries to say, the not-quite-a-lie sitting heavy on his tongue. "He doesn't know you yet, and I don't want to give my best friend any reason to dislike my boyfriend."

Siwon puts on his most convincing, disarming grin, and it somehow makes things worse. "You know, it's funny," Eunhyuk begins with light tone absolutely lacking in amusement, "Donghee's supposedly your best friend, but I haven't even heard of him before this semester. It's clear he hasn't heard of me either. Wanna explain why?"

Siwon frowns at the accusation. "He is my best friend." He may not have acted like it for a while there, but that fact will never change. It's just… "We weren't really, ah, talking much at around the time you and I met." He wants to stop there, but Eunhyuk raises an expectant eyebrow. "Um, remember that time in the student union? That was, sorta, the first time we had spoken in eight months."

The admission completely melts all of Eunhyuk's cold and angry tension, and the sight makes him even more antsy for some reason. Siwon is acutely aware that he didn't answer the entirety of his boyfriend's question, but the other is already moving on.

"You get why I'm bothered, right?" Eunhyuk asks as he sits back on the bed, and yes, Siwon does finally start to get how bothered the other really is. He's never seen Eunhyuk so despondent before. His entire being radiates tired sadness, and Siwon realises with a pang that he did that to him."This guy that I've never met before just shows up one day, and my boyfriend starts acting completely different around him!" Eunhyuk's pout has a chilling effect on Siwon without the hint of flirtation to which he was so accustomed, and Siwon has him wrapped up in a side-hug as if on autopilot. Eunhyuk happily cuddles into the embrace and lays his head on Siwon's shoulder, but Siwon barely notices, too consumed by the weight spreading all over his body.

He's fucked up.

He hasn't been going about this correctly at all, and it's hurting his boyfriend, and that hurts him, and he's fucked up.

He stands abruptly. "I gotta go."

"What?"

Siwon can barely hear the shocked hurt in his boyfriend's voice, he's so preoccupied with the immense and all-consuming guilt that weighs down his limbs. He can't get out of the apartment fast enough. He needs space; he needs more room so that terrible feeling that is expanding within him has somewhere else to go.

"Siwon, where are you going?!" Eunhyuk hurries after him and manages to intercept Siwon before he could open the door. If he were more himself, he'd chuckle at how his boyfriend, 9 centimetres shorter and 5 kilograms lighter, is trying to bodily prevent him from leaving; but in his state, even a feather could knock Siwon over.

"There's something you're not telling me, and I'm not letting you leave the apartment until you do. What is going on between you and Donghee?" he demands.

"Nothing!" Siwon despairs, and it's the truth.

"Why are you lying to me!"

"I've never lied to you," and that is also the truth.

"But you are keeping something from me." There's nothing Siwon can say to that, so he fidgets where he stands. Eunhyuk laughs mirthlessly. "And it's related to Donghee, too, isn't it? How long did you think you could go without telling me, huh? Did you think I wouldn't notice?!"

Siwon is still in flight mode, his brain is still foggy, so he latches onto the only coherent thought he has just so that he can respond to Eunhyuk. "Why don't you call him Shindong?"

Eunhyuk seizes in incredulous frustration. "Can you focus!? That is so beyond the point!"

Siwon closes his eyes and rubs his hands down his face in resigned acknowledgement. Yes, that was the wrong thing to say. "Hyuk, I'm sorry but… I really, really have to go. I need some time; I need to think. You deserve better than the first thought that pops into my head, but I can't give you that right here, right now."

Eunhyuk's shiny eyes are devastating even under the fluorescent glare of his apartment lights, and Siwon's heart urges him to do something. He steps forward, arms outstretched, but Eunhyuk steps out of his reach. "No, please," he says simply. He hastily wipes away the tears that pool at the rim of his eyes and looks anywhere but at Siwon. "When you touch me, I feel better even when I don't want to."

Siwon lets his arms fall back to his side. The need to leave wars with his need to comfort, so he does nothing.

Eunhyuk sniffles once, twice, then says, "Whenever something happens to me—big or small, bad or good—you've become the first person I wanna tell it to. Nothing feels real until I've told you about it." He hugs himself and turns away. "But you don't even want to talk to me."

Eunhyuk walks back to his room and lightly closes the door behind him, a silent cue for Siwon to leave. When he finally does several moments later, the image of Eunhyuk rejecting his touch replays in his mind, and his heart rebels with every step.

~~~

With time and distance, Siwon realises a lot of things about himself.

He's always wanted his first real relationship to be with someone he shared a lot with, someone he didn't have to force himself to spend time with or get to know, someone who made it all easy yet made the difficult parts worth it. He admits to himself that he always wanted his first real relationship to be with Shindong, but that evidently wasn't possible. Just when he had given up on that dream (and on himself), he found all of it and more in Eunhyuk, who literally showed up unannounced, bribed his way into Siwon's life, and pestered Siwon into letting him stay. Without knowing any of the details and without asking any questions, Eunhyuk managed to shake Siwon out of the depressive episode he was in simply by being himself. The warm excitement that coloured their days together were noted but taken for granted, and the cold emptiness that replaces it in the aftermath of their fight is frighteningly familiar. He regrets that it took the undeniable pain that can only come from heartbreak for him to realise that he had fallen in love with Eunhyuk, but at least he knows now.

He also now knows he's a coward.

He was a coward back in senior year when he couldn't tell Shindong why he asked the other to prom, he was a coward last semester when he cut Shindong out of his life for accidentally breaking his heart, and he's a coward now.

With Shindong is back in his life, Siwon thought he could somehow keep both his past love and his current love in the exact ways he wanted them without having to have any uncomfortable conversations, that the two of them would get along fabulously, and that Siwon's happiness would simply fall into place.

He also now knows he's an idiot.

Siwon has always prided himself on being a man of action. He had enough time and distance to reflect, recalibrate, and reload, so it is time for him to gather his courage and react.

He texts Shindong to do homework together at his place then immediately goes out to buy some food just to have something to do with the nervous energy that buzzes within him. He even buys snacks that he knows only Shindong likes because he needs every advantage he can get. He returns with no less pent-up energy than with which he started, so he sets to cleaning the whole apartment. He even attempts to do his homework to distract himself before he remembers homework is the ruse he told Shindong to lure the other over.

His nervous energy is apparent the second Shindong steps foot in the apartment. "Okay…" Shindong drags out as he plops his stuff onto the kitchen table that doubles as Siwon's desk. "Is there a major exam you're freaking out about or something? I can't promise I know anything, but I can promise to help you study."

Siwon lets a ghost of a smile cross his face, fondly remembering their intense study sessions back in high school that none of their friends were brave enough to join more than once. The memory passes, and he sighs. "No, it's not about class."

Shindong gestures. "Well? Out with it then. You know I'm just gonna leave if you're not gonna focus, and I really don't want to leave when there's an unopened pack of honey apple twists right there."

Honey apple twists are also Eunhyuk's favourite, so Siwon starts there.

"Eunhyuk is a man of questionable taste," Shindong pontificates as he munches on the newly opened snack. "He loves honey apple twists but hates seafood. He's best friends with Donghae but spends all his free time with you. What an enigma."

Siwon tries to chuckle, but it doesn't work. He takes a deep breath instead. He can't think of anything else to say except: "I think he's in love with me."

Shindong stops chewing. "What?"

"I think Eunhyuk and I spend a lot of time together because he's in love with me."

Shindong frowns, brows furrowed and looking genuinely upset. It takes Siwon aback for long enough that he gets distracted. "What?" he parrots.

"Dude, that's fucked up."

"What are you talking ab—"

"You can't just string him along like that! What is he gonna do when he finds out you don't like guys? Bro, if Heechul were here right now—actually, I'm just gonna call him because maybe you need to hear why that's fucked up from someone who gets it."

And there it was.

Every unspoken fear he'd ever had, every answer to his heartbreak, every problem he never solved.

He reaches out with his head down and gently stops Shindong's hand, halfway to dialling their high school friend whom Siwon hasn't spoken to since graduation. "I love him, in any case," he says to the ground.

Shindong lets his hand hold his phone in midair. "What?"

Siwon takes a breath, counts to three, and lifts his head to look Shindong in the eyes. "Shindong, Eunhyuk and I are dating. He's my boyfriend. He has been since the summer."

Shindong says nothing.

"I'm gay," Siwon says at last, so easily, because he knows that's not going to be the hardest confession of the night.

As soon as he says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong's astute, masterful, beautiful mind.

"Is that why I haven't seen you since last semester," Shindong says instead of asks, "because you realised after our kiss and didn't want to tell me."

But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn't provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.

"No," Siwon says as he draws away, clasping his hands tight on his lap and wishing he could have told Eunhyuk he was gonna do this. He'd have said something to cheer Siwon up, and Siwon would remember that now, and it could give him courage. The only thing he has right now is the truth.

"No, that was because I was in love with you, and I realised you'd never love me back, and I needed time."

The silence that stretches out between them is awkward like no silence has ever been, even in the first few times they hung out again after reconnecting.

"For how long?" Shindong finally says.

Siwon tries to remember but finds he can't. It must have been one of those things that wasn't tied to any specific event, but a slow build until the whole of the structure was unmistakable. "Since the beginning, basically," he eventually settles on. "Not since the first day we met, no, but very, very close to it. I barely remember a time when I didn't know you and wasn't already in love with you."

"I see."

He finally looks at Shindong, who notices and meets his gaze for a moment before looking down at the table. In that one moment, Siwon could tell from Shindong's eyes that he can see now. He can tell the way Shindong is re-remembering every interaction they've ever had in a new light, and he simply waits. He has no more cards left to play.

Finally, Shindong looks back at him and says, "You should have told me. We should have talked about it. I could have been there for you."

Siwon smiles bittersweetly and looks away. "But not in the way I wanted you to be, and that's why I never said anything. No doubt, you would have absolutely been there. You would have been your funny, action-oriented, perfect self, within arms' reach but not mine for me to hold, and it would have broken me. Broken me worse than if you had dropped me as a friend completely."

Shindong is taken aback by the strength of Siwon's words, the seriousness with which he said them. "You must have been really in love with me."

Siwon turns the bittersweet smile to him then, tears shining in his eyes, and says, "So much. I loved you so much."

Shindong's heart breaks for his friend, his best friend, who suffered all alone and all on his account. He fiercely tugs Siwon into a hug and lets Siwon cry out every tear, every emotion, every everything from the last two years, all while murmuring "I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry" into his friend's shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I loved you, too. I still do," he says when Siwon's tears subside into sniffles, but the younger is still clinging onto him. Shindong won't let go until he does.

"I know. I know you did, do. Me too," Siwon hiccups out.

With one last squeeze, he pulls away to give Shindong a watery but bright-eyed smile, and Shindong gives him one right back. The clock in the kitchen tells him they were only like that for seven minutes, but in that time it feels like they just relived every day of their entire friendship, finally on the same page.

"I'm in the mood for pizza," he says abruptly, reaching for his phone forgotten on the table. "Do you still like pineapples with yours?"

Siwon chuckles while wiping away some latent tears. "Please, yes. Eunhyuk won't let me eat that around him because 'it's gross American food,'" he says with air quotes.

"Maybe Eunhyuk is a man of taste after all," Shindong says as he waits for the phone to ring. He catches Siwon's eye just to sneer, "What's he doing dating you?"

Siwon laughs, a whole-belly laugh, and gets a second wind when Shindong calmly rattles off Siwon's own credit card number for the payment information.

~~~

It's been almost two weeks since Eunhyuk last spoke to Siwon, the memory of his boyfriend's face as he begged for time haunting his undistracted moments. He's busied himself with dance practice, homework, and even once tried accompanying Donghae to the gym just to get his mind off of how much more lonely he feels. It was pretty bad before when Eunhyuk was convincing himself that the way his boyfriend was pulling away was all in his head, but with confirmation from Siwon himself, it just got so much worse.

Donghee—He's not about to start calling him by that ridiculous nickname. The only thing Donghee is good at, as far as he's concerned, is ruining his mood—first came into the picture like spilled paint across a canvas: completely and all at once where before there was none. He showed up at group hangouts and even tagged along to his and Siwon's casual day dates, sometimes at Siwon's own behest!

Siwon also didn't touch Eunhyuk as much when Donghee was around, which is saying something because Siwon is literally the clingiest man in all of South Korea. To have such a gentle, romantic, constant aspect of his relationship almost completely stop without explanation… Of course Eunhyuk was lonely. The only thing that stopped him from saying something sooner was how undeniably happy Siwon was with Donghee back in his life, and Eunhyuk didn't want to ruin that for him.

But now it seems like their whole relationship is ruined instead, and the idea that this is how it all ends makes him even more miserable.

It is during one of these pessimistic slumps that he gets a text from Siwon that he, Donghae, and Donghee are working on the quad together. Siwon signs it with "I miss you 😘," and Eunhyuk's heart clenches. He misses Siwon too, but he's not really in the mood to watch him and Donghee together.

He realises he's not really in the mood to be alone right now either. He considers texting Donghae to fake some emergency so that he could be with Eunhyuk, but Donghae texts him first. "don't bail i promise."

The fact that Donghae, the only one who happens to know the full extent of Eunhyuk's insecurities and worries about the situation, is the one saying that piques his interest. If Donghae thinks it'll be safe for him, Eunhyuk will trust that.

He sees them before they see him, and it plays out slowly like a movie. They're all sitting in a quasi-circle on the grass in the middle of a laugh. The scene is so picturesque, and the jealous pang in his chest rings loud and true.

He almost turns on his heel right then and there, but Siwon notices him before he can.

Siwon's smile is bright and free, and he makes grabby hands for Eunhyuk like he hasn't in a while. Eunhyuk's feet carry him forward without him telling them to, and he has a feeling that was his heart leading. Despite it all, next to Siwon is where he wants to be.

He settles into the space by Siwon with a little unease, which dissipates completely when Siwon shifts them so that Eunhyuk is between his open legs and Siwon is giving him a cosy backhug. As much as he wants nothing else, Eunhyuk fights the urge to lean in, acutely aware of Donghee's presence.

"Siwon-ah." Eunhyuk squirms. "I'm 'Siwon-ah' now, not 'Siwonnie?'" He can hear Siwon's pout even as the other squeezes Eunhyuk to himself tighter. He puts a little more effort into escaping Siwon's embrace, but Siwon simply uses his legs to lock him in.

Eunhyuk laughs; he can't help it. He wiggles as frantically as possible—not to actually get out of Siwon's hold, just to give him a hard time trying to hold on—and Siwon playfully bites his ear to get him to stop. Eunhyuk lets out a mock gasp, prepared to do something drastic, when all of a sudden they both tumble onto the grass.

Eunhyuk looks up to see Donghee calmly returning to his spot, acting like he did nothing wrong and ignoring how Donghae assaults his back with amusement. "I've wanted to do that for forever!" Donghae cackles.

In embarrassment, he begins to sit up, but Siwon doesn't let him, instead pulling Eunhyuk back down and on top of him. He looks for the reason why in Siwon's eyes, and Siwon just gives him a small smile before leaning up to brush his lips against Eunhyuk's. It was a soft little thing, but it calms him down nevertheless.

He folds his hands on Siwon's chest and rests his head on top of them, facing the side where the other two weren't sitting. "I thought Shindong isn't big on PDA," he repeats, keeping his voice neutral but loud enough for Siwon to hear. In this position, he can hear Siwon's heartbeat as he plays with the collar of Siwon's shirt. He doesn't know what to make of its calm and strong cadence when he knows the other can feel his own heart rate spike in nervousness.

"You're my boyfriend, though," Siwon maintains, echoing their conversation from a week before with the roles noticeably reversed.

Eunhyuk jerks his head up to face the other. He doesn't think Siwon has called him his boyfriend in front of Donghee yet before.

Siwon must see something in his face because he reaches up to hold one of the hands on his chest and squeezes twice. I'm sorry about that, it says. We'll talk about everything later. Eunhyuk nods, looking at Siwon with so much trust in his eyes that Siwon smiles the same wide, happy grin that made Eunhyuk fall for him in the first place.

With a louder voice, Siwon says, "Besides, Shindong's a big guy. He'll find it within him to get over it."

"YA! DID YOU JUST MAKE A FAT JOKE ABOUT ME?!"

Siwon winks at Eunhyuk before sitting them upright and into a more casual cuddle, Eunhyuk against Siwon's side and Siwon's arm across Eunhyuk's shoulder.

Eunhyuk ignores the ensuing banter between Siwon, Shindong, and Donghae, instead looking up to observe his boyfriend. Siwon's different again, but in a good way, he decides. For the first time since they met, Siwon looks completely unburdened, completely secure.

And yet he's still here, holding Eunhyuk to him like he used to, which means whatever Siwon let go of, it wasn't him.

Eunhyuk knows they still have to talk, that there’s a lot of explaining Siwon has to do and a lot of confused pain he has to work through, but he also knows there's time for that now. Siwon isn't going anywhere; and neither is he, for that matter.

He looks over at the other two across the way and muses that Shindong isn't going anywhere either, but he finds that's not such a problem anymore.

(Siwon's laugh breaks his concentration, and he notices that's different, too—better than before, even.)

In fact, he might even welcome it.

~~~

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Random Review #3: Sleepwalkers (1992) and “Sleep Walk” (1959)

I. Sleepwalkers (1992) I couldn’t sleep last night so I started watching a trashy B-movie penned by Stephen King specifically for the screen called Sleepwalkers (1992). Simply put, the film is an unmitigated disaster. A piece of shit. But it didn’t need to be. That’s what’s so annoying about it. By 1992 King was a grizzled veteran of the silver screen, with more adaptations under his belt than any other author of his cohort. Puzo had the Godfather films (1972 and 1974, respectively), sure, but nothing else. Leonard Gardner had Fat City (1972), a movie I love, but Gardner got sucked into the Hollywood scene of cocaine and hot tub parties and never published another novel, focusing instead on screenplays for shitty TV shows like NYPD Blue. After Demon Seed (1977), a movie I have seen and disliked, nobody would touch Dean Koontz’s stuff with a ten foot pole, which is too bad because The Voice of the Night, a 1980 novel about two young pals, one of whom is a psychopath trying to convince the other to help him commit murder, would make a terrific movie. But Koontz’s adaptations have been uniformly awful. The made-for-TV film starring John C McGinley, 1997′s Intensity, is especially bad. There are exceptions, but Stephen King has been lucky enough to avoid the fate of his peers. Big name directors have tackled his work, from Stanley Kubrick to Brian De Palma. King even does a decent job of acting in Pet Semetary (1989), in his own Maximum Overdrive (1986) and in George Romero’s Creepshow (1982), where he plays a yokel named Jordy Verril who gets infected by a meteorite that causes green weeds to grow all over his body. Many have criticized King’s over-the-top performance in that flick, but for me King perfectly nails the campy and comical tone that Romero was going for. The dissolves in Creepshow literally come right off the pages of comics, so people expecting a subtle Ordinary People-style turn from King had clearly walked into the wrong theatre. Undoubtedly Creepshow succeeds at what it set out to do. I’m not sure Sleepwalkers succeeds though, unless the film’s goal was to get me to like cats even more than I already do. But I already love cats a great deal. Here’s my cat Cookie watching me edit this very blog post. 

And here’s one of my other cats, Church, named after the cat that reanimates and creeps out Louis and Ellie in Pet Sematary. Photo by @ScareAlex.

SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you plan on watching Sleepwalkers and want to find out for yourself what happens.

Stephen King saw many of his novels get adapted in the late 1970s and 80s: Carrie, The Shining, Firestarter, Christine, Cujo, and the movie that spawned the 1950s nostalgia industrial complex, Stand By Me, but Sleepwalkers was the first time he wrote a script specifically for the screen rather than adapting a novel that already existed. Maybe that’s why it’s so fucking bad. Stephen King is a novelist, gifted with a novelist’s rich imagination. He’s prone to giving backstories to even the most peripheral characters - think of Joe Chamber’s alcoholic neighbour Gary Pervier in the novel Cujo, who King follows for an unbelievable number of pages as the man stumbles drunkenly around his house spouting his catch phrase “I don’t give a shit,” drills a hole through his phone book so he can hang it from a string beside his phone, complains about his hemorrhoids getting “as big as golfballs” (I’m not joking), and just generally acts like an asshole until a rabid Cujo bounds over, rips his throat out, and he bleeds to death. In the novel Pervier’s death takes more than a few pages, but it makes for fun reading. You hate the man so fucking much that watching him die feels oddly satisfying. In the movie, though, his death occurs pretty quickly, and in a darkened hallway, so it’s hard to see what’s going on aside from Gary’s foot trembling. And Pervier’s “I don’t give a shit” makes sense when he’s drilling a hole in the phone book, not when he’s about to be savagely attacked by a rabid St Bernard. There’s just less room for back story in movies. In a medium that demands pruning and chiseling and the “less is more” dictum, King’s writing takes a marked turn for the worse. King is a prose maximalist, who freely admits to “writing to outrageous lengths” in his novels, listing It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers as particularly egregious examples of literary logorrhea. He is not especially equipped to write concisely. This weakness is most apparent in Sleepwalkers’ dialogue, which sounds like it was supposed to be snappy and smart, like something Aaron Sorkin would write, but instead comes off like an even worse Tango & Cash, all bad jokes and shitty puns. More on those bad jokes later. First, the plot.

Sleepwalkers is about a boy named Charles and his mother Mary who travel around the United States killing and feeding off the lifeforce of various unfortunate people (if this sounds a little like The True Knot in Doctor Sleep, you’re not wrong. But self-plagiarism is not a crime). Charles and Mary are shapeshifting werewolf-type creatures called werecats, a species with its very own Wikipedia page. Wikipedia confers legitimacy dont’cha know, so lets assume werecats are real beings. According to said page, a werecat, “also written in a hyphenated form as were-cat) is an analogy to ‘werewolf’ for a feline therianthropic creature.” I’m gonna spell it with the hyphen from now on because “werecats” just looks like a typo. Okay? Okay.

Oddly enough, the were-cats in Sleepwalkers are terrified of cats. Actual cats. For the were-cats, cute kittens = kryptonite. When they see a cat or cats plural, this happens to them:

^ That is literally a scene from the movie. Charles is speeding when a cop pulls alongside him and bellows at him to pull over. Ever the rebel, Charles flips the cop the finger. But the cop has a cat named Clovis in his car, and when the cat pops up to have a look at the kid (see below), Charles shapeshifts first into a younger boy, then into whatever the fuck that is in the above screenshot.

Now, the were-cats aversion to normal cats is confusing because one would assume a were-cat to be a more evolved (or perhaps devolved?) version of the typical house kitty. The fact that these were-cats are bipedal alone suggests an advantage over our furry four-legged friends, no? Kinda like if humans were afraid of fucking gorillas. Wait...we are scared of gorillas. And chimpanzees. And all apes really. Okay, maybe the conceit of the film isn’t so silly after all. The film itself, however, is about as silly as a bad horror movie can get. When the policeman gets back to precinct and describes the incident above (”his face turned into a blur”) he is roundly ridiculed because in movies involving the supernatural nobody believes in the supernatural until it confronts them. It’s the law, sorry. Things don’t end well for the cop. Or for the guy who gets murdered when the mom stabs him with...an ear of corn. Yes, an ear of corn. Somehow, the mother is able to jam corn on the cob through a man’s body, without crushing the vegetable or turning it into yellow mash. It’s pretty amazing. Here is a sample of dialog from that scene: Cop About To Die On The Phone to Precinct: There’s blood everywhere! *STAB* Murderous Mother: No vegetables, no dessert. That is actually a line in the movie. “No vegetables, no dessert.” It’s no “let off some steam, Bennett” but it’s close. Told ya I’d get back to the bad jokes. See, Mary and Charles are new in town and therefore seeking to ingratiate themselves by killing everyone who suspects them of being weird, all while avoiding cats as best they can. At one point Charles yanks a man’s hand off and tells him to "keep [his] hands to [him]self," giving the man back his severed bloody hand. Later on Charles starts dating a girl who will gradually - and I do mean gradually - come to realize her boyfriend is not a real person but in fact a were-cat. Eventually our spunky young protagonist - Madchen Amick, who fans of Twin Peaks will recognize as Shelly - and a team of cats led by the adorable Clovis- kill the were-cat shapeshifting things and the sleepy small town (which is named Travis for some reason) goes back to normal, albeit with a slightly diminished population. For those keeping score, that’s Human/Cat Alliance 1, Shapeshifting Were-cats 0. It is clear triumph for the felis catus/people team! Unless we’re going by kill count, in which case it is closer to Human/Cat Alliance 2, Were-cats 26. I arrived at this figure through my own notes but also through a helpful video that takes a comprehensive and complete “carnage count” of all kills in Sleepwalkers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmt-DroK6uA

II. Santo & Johnny “Sleep Walk” (1959) Because Sleepwalkers is decidedly not known for its good acting or its well-written screenplay, it is perhaps best known for its liberal and sometimes contrapuntal use of Santo & Johnny’s classic steel guitar song “Sleep Walk,” possibly the most famous (and therefore best) instrumental of the 20th century. Some might say “Sleep Walk” is tied for the #1 spot with “Green Onions” by Booker T & the M.G.’s and/or “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but I disagree. The Santo & Johnny song is #1 because of its incalculable influence on all subsequent popular music. 

I’m not saying “Wipe Out” didn't inspire a million imitators, both contemporaneously and even decades later…for example here’s a surf rock instrumental from 1999 called “Giant Cow" by a Toronto band called The Urban Surf Kings. The video was one of the first to be animated using Flash (and it shows):

So there are no shortage of surf rock bands, even now, decades after its emergence from the shores of California to the jukeboxes of Middle America. My old band Sleep for the Nightlife used to regularly play Rancho Relaxo with a surf rock band called the Dildonics, who I liked a great deal. There's even a Danish surf rock band called Baby Woodrose, whose debut album is a favourite of mine. They apparently compete for the title of Denmark’s biggest surf pop band with a group called The Setting Son. When a country that has no surfing culture and no beaches has multiple surf rock bands, it is safe to say the genre has attained international reach. As far as I can tell, there aren’t many bands out there playing Booker T & the M.G.’s inspired instrumental rock. Link Wray’s “Rumble” was released four years before “Green Onions.” But the influence of Santo and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is so ubiquitous as to be almost immeasurable. The reason for this is the sheer popularity of the song’s chord progression. If Santo and Johnny hadn’t written it first, somebody else would have, simply because the progression is so beautiful and easy on the ears and resolvable in a satisfying way. Have a listen to “Sleep Walk” first and then let’s check out some songs it directly inspired. 

The chords are C, A minor, F and G. Minor variations sometimes reverse the last two chords, but if it begins with C to A minor, you can bet it’s following the “Sleep Walk” formula, almost as if musicians influenced by the song are in the titular trance. When it comes to playing guitar, Tom Waits once said “your hands are like dogs, going to the same places they’ve been. You have to be careful when playing is no longer in the mind but in the fingers, going to happy places. You have to break them of their habits or you don’t explore; you only play what is confident and pleasing.” Not only is it comforting to play and/or hear what we already know, studies have shown that our brains actively resist new music, because it takes work to understand the new information and assimilate it into a pattern we are cogent of. It isn’t until the brain recognizes the pattern that it gives us a dopamine rush. I’m not much for Pitchfork anymore, but a recent article they posted does a fine job of discussing this phenomenon in greater detail.

Led Zeppelin’s “D’Yer Maker” uses the “Sleep Walk” riff prominently, anchored by John Bonham and John Paul Jones’ white-boy reggae beat: 

Here it is again with Del Shannon’s classic “Little Town Flirt.” I love Shannon’s falsetto at the end when he goes “you better run and hide now bo-o-oy.”

The Beatles “Happiness is a Warm Gun” uses the Sleep Walk progression, though not for the whole song. It goes into the progression at the bridge at 1:34: 

Tumblr won’t let me embed any more videos, so you’ll to travel to another tab to hear these songs, but Neil Young gets in on the act with his overlooked classic “Winterlong:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV6r66n3TFI On their 1996 EP Interstate 8 Modest Mouse pay direct homage by singing over their own rendition of the original Santo & Johnny version, right down to the weeping steel guitar part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT_PwXjCqqs The vocals are typical wispy whispered indie rock vocals, but I think they work, particularly the two different voices. They titled their version “Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night).”

Dwight Yoakam’s “Thousand Miles From Nowhere” makes cinematic use of it. This song plays over the credits of one of my all-time favourite movies, 1993′s Red Rock West feat. Nicolas Cage, Lara Flynn Boyle, Dennis Hopper, and J.T. Walsh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu3ypuKq8WE

“39″ is my favourite Queen song. I guess now I know why. It uses my fav chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU 

Blink 182 scored their first hit “Dammit” with a minor variation on the Sleep Walk chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0g16_LQaQ

Midwest beer drinkin bar rockers Connections scored a shoulda-been-a-hit with the fist-pumping “Beat the Sky:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSNRq0n_WYA You’d be hard pressed to find a weaker lead singer than this guy (save for me, natch), but they make it work. This one’s an anthem.

Spoon, who have made a career out of deconstructing rock n’ roll, so that their songs sometimes sound needlessly sparse (especially “The Ghost of You Lingers,” which takes minimalism to its most extreme...just a piano being bashed on staccato-style for four minutes), so it should surprise nobody that they re-arrange the Sleep Walk chords on their classic from Gimme Fiction, “I Summon You:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXA8N3aF9M I love that opening line: remember the weight of the world was a sound that we used to buy? I think songwriter Britt Daniel is talking about buying albums from the likes of Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins, any of those grunge bands with pessimistic worldviews. There are a million more examples. I remember seeing some YouTube video where a trio of gross douchebros keep playing the same progression while singing a bunch of hits over it. I don’t like the smarmy way they do it, making it seem like artists are lazy and deliberately stealing. I don’t think it’s plagiarism to use this progression. And furthermore, tempo and production make all the difference. Take “This Magic Moment” for example. There's a version by Jay & the Americans and one by Ben E King & the Drifters. I’ve never been a fan of those shrieking violins or fiddles that open the latter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bacBKKgc4Uo The Jay & the Americans version puts the guitar riff way in the forefront, which I like a lot more. The guitar plays the entire progression once before the singing starts and the band joins in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKfASw6qoag

Each version has its own distinctive feel. They are pretty much two different songs. Perhaps the most famous use of the Sleep Walk progression is “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, which is one of my favourite songs ever. The guy who chose to let Bobby Hatfield sing this one by himself must have kicked himself afterwards when it became a hit, much bigger than "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling."https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0

What can you say about “Unchained Melody” that hasn’t already been said? God, that miraculously strong vocal, the way the strings (and later on, brass horns) are panned way over to the furthest reaches the left speaker while the drums and guitar are way over in the right, with the singing smack dab in the middle creates a kind of distance and sharp clarity that has never been reproduced in popular music, like seeing the skyscrapers of some distant city after an endless stretch of highway. After listening to “Unchained Melody,” one has to wonder: can that progression ever be improved upon? Can any artist write something more haunting, more beautiful, more uplifting than that? The “need your love” crescendo hits so fucking hard, as both the emotional and the sonic climax of the song, which of course is no accident...the strings descending and crashing like a waterfall of sound, it gets me every fucking time. Legend has it that King George II was so moved by the “Hallelujah” section of Handel’s “Messiah” that he stood up, he couldn't help himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. I get that feeling with all my favourite songs. "1979." "Unchained Melody." "In The Still of the Night." "Digital Bath." "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" "Interstate." "Liar's Tale." “Gimme Shelter.” The list goes on and on. Music is supposed to move us.

King George II stood because he was moved to do so. Music may be our creation, but it isn't our subordinate. All those sci-fi stories warning about technology growing beyond our control aren’t that far-fetched. Music is our creation but its power lies beyond our control. We are subordinate to music, helpless against its power and might, its urgency and vitality and beauty. There have been many times in my life when I have been so obsessed with a particular song that I pretty much want to live inside of it forever. A house of sound. I remember detoxing from heroin and listening to Grimes “Realiti” on repeat for twelve hours. Detoxing from OxyContin and listening to The Beach Boys “Dont Worry Baby” over and over. Or just being young and listening to “Tonight Tonight” over and over and over, tears streaming from my eyes in that way you cry when you’re a kid because you just feel so much and you don’t know what to do with the intensity of those feelings. It is precisely because we are so moved by music that we keep creating it. And in the act of that creation we are free. There are no limits to that freedom, which is why bands time and time again return to the well-worn Sleep Walk chord progression and try to make something new from it. Back in 2006, soon after buying what was then the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, I found myself playing the album’s closing track over and over. I loved the chorus and I loved the way it collapses into a lo-fi demo at the very end, stripping away the studio sheen and...not to be too punny, showing its bones (the album title is Show Your Bones). Later on I would realize that the song, called “Turn Into,” uses the Sleep Walk chord progression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqCFoPiwpk

It’s just like, what Waits said, our hands goes to where we are familiar. And so do our ears, which is why jazz often sounds so unpleasant to us upon first listen. Or Captain Beefheart. But it’s worth the effort to discover new stuff, just as it’s worth the effort to try and write it. I recently lamented on this blog that music to me now is more about remembrance than discovery, but I’m still only 35 years old. I’m middle-aged right now (I don’t expect to live past 70, not with the lifestyle I’ve been living). There’s still a whole other half life to find new music and love and leave it for still newer stuff. It’s worth the challenge, that moment of inner resistance we feel when confronted with something new and challenging and strange sounding. The austere demands of adult life, rent and routine, take so much of our time. I still make time for creative pursuits, but I don’t really have much time for discovery, for seeking out new music. But I’ve resolved to start making more time. A few years ago I tried to listen to and like Trout Mask Replica but I couldn’t. I just didn’t get what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of mistakes piled on top of each other. But then a few days ago I was writing while listening to music, as I always do, and YouTube somehow landed on Lick My Decals Off, Baby. I didn’t love what I was hearing but I was intrigued enough to keep going. And now I really like this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnd9dvb3sA&pbjreload=101 Another example I’ll give is the rare Robert Pollard gem “Prom Is Coming.” The first time I heard this song, it sounded like someone who can’t play guitar messing around, but the more I heard it the more I realized there’s a song there. It’s weird and strange, but it’s there. The lyrics are classic Pollard: Disregard injury and race madly out of the universe by sundown. Pollard obviously has a special place in his heart for this track. He named one of his many record labels Prom Is Coming Records and he titled the Boston Spaceships best-of collection Out of the Universe By Sundown. I don’t know if I’ll ever become a Captain Beefheart megafan but I can hear that the man was doing something very strange and, at times, beautiful. And anyway, why should everything be easy? Aren’t some challenges worth meeting for the experience waiting on the other side of comprehension or acceptance? I try to remember this now whenever I’m first confronted with new music, instead of vetoing it right away. Most of my favourite bands I was initially resistant to when I first heard them. Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Guided by Voices, Spoon, Heavy Times. All bands I didn’t like at first.  I don’t wanna sleepwalk through life, surrounding myself only with things I have already experienced. I need to stay awake. Because soon enough I’ll be asleep forever. We need to try everything we can before the Big Sleep comes to take us back to the great blankness, the terrible question mark that bookends our lives.