#not only am i used to in general the world treating me like shit

[kodiescove]

Person who I just got back into contact with after 3 years of no contact: you are perfect

Them: you are part of the reason I got sober. I didn't want to die and you not see me get better.

Them: I have to reassure you that you're okay. That no matter what you do, I could never truly be angry at you. You can do no wrong in my eyes.

Me: is this.... is this a joke...? Am I being punked...? Where are the hidden cameras? Are you gonna punch me in the stomach and then rob me after saying all of this? What the fuck is going on? Who are you?? What happened to you??? This is NOT and has NEVER been you, and I do not know how to handle who you've become. Am I dreaming? Am I high? Have I been isekaid?

[solitaireships]

I feel like I should say since there's been a recent uptick in a lot of communities I'm in/see stuff from a lot of white people pretending to be Asian, but you are not welcome here if you are in anyway stealing from Asian cultures for clout or the aesthetics of it

This includes if you're white and you give your self inserts Asian names, I truly do not care if your f/o is from an anime, you should not be using an Asian name under any circumstances. I hate that whenever I see someone using an Asian name online, I feel like I have to start searching their account to see if they're actually Asian or just a white person who likes the aesthetic of it bcs far too many white people will use Asian names here just bcs it sounds cool, with no regard for the actual cultural meaning behind it. Meanwhile actual Asian people will be mocked for their names, or treated like their names are too hard to learn to pronounce, or discriminated against based on their names

Asian cultures are not a fun little costume for people to dress up with. They aren't just a nice aesthetic, they aren't just a thing you can borrow from bcs you think it sounds cool

[s0dium]

Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

[kteezy997]

The Heart of a Bene Gesserit- Part Four//Paul Atreides//Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Warnings: cursing, smut, threesome, f and m receiving oral sex

“As a Bene Gesserit, I feel that it is my duty to see how you are being treated here. But please trust that I have no ulterior motives. I’m not wholly certain of the conditions of the slave quarters, but I’d like to find out.”

“Well, the food is shit, they give you just enough water to stay alive after being out in the scorching desert all day, and the beds here are hard and cold, but other than that, it is rather pleasing.” the biting sarcasm from the youngest Harkonnen was palpable.

“Mm-hmm.” you nodded, “I will speak to the Emperor, he needs to be more generous to the men who mind his spice. What you have is not enough.”

“That is very honorable of you…”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n.” he said your name, smiling and giving you a glimpse of his teeth. “But I fear that your suggestions will fall upon deaf ears. I cannot blame Atreides, if our roles were reversed, I'd have him enslaved as well, or I'd have just killed him. Our families have held hatred for one another for centuries, you should already know that."

“But he shouldn’t hate you, Feyd. You were just a boy, the same as Paul, when his father was killed. You were not a conspirator against the Atreides.”

“I have to ask: why are you lending yourself to my cause? Is it because Atreides has rejected your advances? Has he refused to give you the heir you were sent to acquire?” his dark eyes narrowed down at you, putting you on the spot.

You shook your head, “How did you know about the mission?”

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, “People talk. We don’t have much down here besides talk of spice. But the slaves have learned much about you, y/n.”

“Hm.” you huffed, “Well, you may know that I never did advance on Paul. He is my friend.”

“Friend? An Emperor has no friends, only followers.” he knew this to be true, as he was almost Emperor himself.

“Paul and I knew each other as children on Caladan.”

His non-existent brows raised up, he blinked slowly, “Oh, a childhood crush, is it?” he smirked.

You looked down, "I do not wish to speak of this."

"I suppose he rejected you, and now you're bored, so you're after the next best thing-"

"Silence!" you used the Voice.

Feyd's eyes closed, the movement of his mouth ceased against his will. "I see you've mastered the Voice."

"I am Bene Gesserit, of course I have. They do not let you graduate without doing so."

"I can also see that this is a sensitive topic for you, so I'll change the subject." Feyd slowly walked over toward the shadow edge of the roof. "I have a request for you, since Atreides won't likely show me any kindnesses."

You were intrigued, but also worried at what he could have wanted from you. "What is your request?"

"Get me off-world, back to Geidi Prime. Somewhere I can hide out from the Emperor."

"Feyd, he would kill you if he even knew you asked me that." youj warned.

"Precisely. Which is why he would never know."

You sighed, "You have given me much to consider, but I should be leaving. I have a feeling we are being watched by one of the servants."

Feyd gave you a smirk, "Well darling, if I knew we were being watched, I would have given them a show."

........

You left Feyd-Rautha and the slaves' quarters, returning to your wing of the House. You felt a little bit exhausted after your conversation with the Harkonnen and all the thoughts of Paul's reaction. You just wanted to sleep. You couldn't believe how quickly your life had come to revolve around two men.

You found yourself wrestling with thoughts of them both. You loved Paul Atreides, but there was something charming and also forbidden about his cousin Feyd. Were you attracted to the anti-Paul?

You took an afternoon nap, and your dreams became increasingly indecipherable from reality. First, there was Paul, your sweet Paul, his rich, dark curls falling in his face. The look of tenderness on his face warmed you up from the inside out. Then, the smooth, naked skin of Feyd-Rautha, his piercing eyes sending chills all down your body.

In this dream, you were in bed. Were they, taking turns with you? Feyd was waiting patiently by the bed, while Paul was kissing you all over. You were naked and breathless, trembling, even.

Paul had moved his face between your legs, flicking his Fremen blue eyes up at you. He started to lap his tongue between your folds. But it seemed that Feyd was having a difficult time only watching. As Paul sucked at the tiny bundle above your opening, you felt the bed sink at your side.

Feyd placed his big hand on your head, smoothing your hair back. He traced his fingers along your face, trailing down your chin, your chest, all to cup your breast in his hand. You gasped as he pinched your nipple.

Paul nibbled and kissed your inner thighs and rubbed your clit with his fingers.

You noticed Feyd's other hand at his waistband, and he pulled his pants down. Your eyes met his pale, veiny cock as he brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth, obediently, inviting his length. You moistened him with your saliva, sucking as best as you could.

Paul was moving up your body, his lips traveling along your stomach. He too, cupped your breast. Each man held your breasts, and your nipples hardened against their palms.

Paul's face was now close to yours as you had Feyd's cock in your mouth. He watched you, adjusted his body between your legs. You could then feel the tip of his cock prodding at your wet entrance.

You were then in a horny daze as you were abruptly woken by a servant barging into your bedroom.

"Sorry to wake you, my lady, but it is time for dinner."

"Who gave you the right to barge into my room while I'm sleeping?" you barked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Well, His Majesty, the Emperor, does, my lady."

You rolled your eyes, "Of course he does."

…….

That evening at dinner, you didn’t sit next to Paul, you didn’t talk to him, you didn’t even look at him. You wanted him to feel your absence, your neglect of him. He had been cold and rude toward you, so why should you warm up to him?

As you ate, you looked over at Gurney Halleck, sensing something about him. You were nearly positive you were being watched with Feyd-Rautha earlier. Gurney was behind it, you were certain. But why? Was it Gurney acting alone in his suspicion of you? Or did Paul put this into place?

As the meal ended, you made it a point to get up from your chair and simply head back to your room, without trading words or even a glance with Paul. No Bene Gesserit tricks, as you promised. You would get him to come to you, if he so wished, the natural way. Deprivation.

It was nary a moment after you closed your bedroom door before there was a knock. You knew who it was. You opened the door, “Paul.”

“Y/n.” said the Emperor. “Are you alright? I heard you spent the whole afternoon in your room. You did not come to council. Are you ill?”

“No, I am not ill. You should not bother yourself with worry about me, Paul Atreides. You have much more important duties.”

“You know you are important to me.” he said, resting his hand on the door frame. “You are my one true friend. As long as you are alive, I will care for you. That is all this is.”

“A true friend? Is that why you sent a spy for me?”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

[thattimdrakeguy]

I HAVE BEEN READING ZDARSKY BATMAN, AND I HAVE DECLARED: I FREAKING LOVE IT!!

I'm reading the Batman Zdarsky run in reverse. That way if I see any bull I can back out at anytime: and to be honest--besides a few things. I really enjoy it

LIKE YO, THAT IS JUST STRAIGHT UP TIM DRAKE RIGHT THERE. It knows who he is as a character. his motives, it's great.

Screw the people complaining "oh why is tim still robin :((", THIS IS WHY HE IS STILL ROBIN. Because this is when he's at his BEST. When he gets to hit his character purpose, WHEN HE GETS TO BE HIM AT HIS MOST HIM. It's FANTASTIC.

Reading in reverse because I know I hated the first story, it was so contrived and ridiculous.

But this--this is some good shit.

Tim being an underdog fighter, having to use his wits to win the fight? MY DAWG, MY DUDE, MY GUYS, MY GALS, MY THEMS, MY THEYS, THIS IS SO TIMMY DRAKE. This is so damn Tim Drake, guys. Oh, my gosh, I am loving this so far.

Dick has his temper back? And trust me, he isn't normally like this. But he's hitting a limit AND IT'S SOMETHING NEW, NOT JUST A REFERENCE. HE'S ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING HE'D DO, 'CAUSE HE'S AT HIS LIMIT. That's wonderful, man. That is so wonderful.

Plus Tim is the heart of the Bat-Family again? This feels like someone actually went back to read these characters before writing it. I'm not saying everything is perfect of course, but these high marks are exceeding all my expectations. And I STOPPED reading comics because of how the beginning of this run destroyed any hope I had.

You guys have no idea how much I'm enjoying the few issues I've read. Besides the cussing (I remember after a bit they decided Tim was someone who used funny words instead of proper cusses), this feels like the Tim I know and love during the era I especially loved him.

Tim comparing himself to his predecessors? Tim not being a natural? A WRITER REMEMBERING THAT?? It's been so long since I've seen that! Most writers treat him like he was another prodigy when he wasn't. AND THIS GUY REMEMBERED THAT!

I shouldn't be so happy at just seeing Tim do Tim things, and serving his character purpose. BUT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE A WRITER KNEW WHAT TIM WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE.

Only complaints I have is that Jason feels like a typical Bat-Family member, and not the sketchy outsider that he is. Making him so close makes his character more bland in my opinion. And Steph is--also generic af unless she's wacky quirky...which is a characterization I hate for her, because she started off so damn interesting, but they made her a freaking trope instead, which is such a disservice to her, but she barely does anything so far, so whatever I guess. Doesn't mean much.

--

This is the first honest thing I've seen that I hated.

No

Not this

This isn't the Bat-Family

This is a sitcom world the fandom wants to be the Bat-Family and some comply with

They're not a sitcom. The conflicts, and uniqueness of the characters is what makes things feel alive and well.

This stuff is cheap fanservice for the fanon demographic that doesn't buy comics to begin with.

Fanon doesn't belong in canon.

--

I mean sure Tim could be drawn smaller, the gag of him looking 12 when he's nearly 18 doesn't work when he's bigger than Damian who is 15 (and contrary to some bullshit comics isn't meant to be small. that was a random thing added for writers who aren't clever to write better humor. it actually contradicts things that were already established).

Don't see the big deal though for most of this.

Can't wait to find it, though. Oh boy.

This whole obsession with Zur Batman, is way over done though. So--I wouldn't be shocked if that was the problem, because my golly does that plot point not seem to be stopping--and it was there from the start and part of the reason why I didn't read it 'til now.

Good Tim tho, at least. So heehee, yey for that--I think--I guess.

Oh, well.

It let me peak at a pseudo-version of an AU I made up years ago. So that's pretty freaking cool.

Always a plus.

And redoing Red Robin story beats but better? Normally I'd hate references to Red Robin, 'cause that changed the perception of so many characters for the worst, but ayy, a bit of redemption isn't bad.

Man, just seeing simple stuff like Tim and Bruce being good ol' classic Batman and Robin warms my heart. It's been so long since Batman and Robin has acted like a proper classic Batman and Robin. It's dynamic that's been sorely missed by many.

OH, MY GOSH, WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO STINK SO BAD. THIS STUFF IS GREAT.

Like, DUDE, this is such a Tim thing for him to do!!

And he's showing emotion?? He's crying like how he does?? Because he's not a typical Bat-Family member who just angsts his way through?? THEY'RE MAKING HIM STAND-OUT AGAIN BY MAKING HIM, HIM??

WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO SUCK SO BAD?? THIS IS GOOD SHIT.

Like this part is why I originally stopped reading, not because Bruce should think Tim is his soldier, and not his son, THE FREAKING OPPOSITE.

But because the original story has Bruce acting weird when unneeded, just to say this was so unneeded, and adding in all these stupid corny Bat-Family moments was so groan worthy.

This run started off with a story that was a total turn off for me.

To end up being a run that could've kept me enjoying DC, rather than running away from it from as far as I have.

Chip Zdarsky started off awful, but really, he ended up great.

And I've seen people complain about his run, and TRUST ME, there's stuff to complain about. But I have only ever seen the stuff worth complaining about, or stuff I WOULD complain about.

WHEN MOST OF THE RUN IS GOOD

At least when Tim is around.

Go figure.

Maybe I should've paid sole attention to how he wrote Tim and nothing else at the very least for that first story.

'Cause even in the first story, Tim was well-written--it's how cheap the rest of the story telling was in that first story that turned me off--and the weird knew about the movie plans that I am still fully judging harshly. (Love the new Superman film suit, though)

[eamour]

unfavourable concepts.

i've been meaning to address this for some time now. with social media becoming a platform with such a large number of people talking about different concepts in love, work, health and so on, there are concepts which i think need to be discussed, especially as they affect so many of us.

before we start, celest1albeing on twitter inspired me to write this post! make sure to check out their thread on there as well.

disclaimer.

these are concepts that don’t serve me personally. i don’t expect you to stop believing these concepts or make them apply to you and the world if you have no problems with them. if you can resonate and identify with these, that’s perfectly fine.

concepts of love.

information · these are all only examples which i seem to encounter frequently and which seem to be common.

young men cannot commit · men only treat pretty women with respect · all male friends of women just wanna hit · if he wanted to he would · they categorise you into sweet, sexy and pretty · he doesn’t love you if he does this · men always cheat and lie · they all only want one thing · they only like ass or tits · all men are the same · you can't change his type · you aren't his dream girl · men love quiet women · if a man doesn’t pay he isn't the one

you are just an option · once you are married your partner will become less romantic · after 3 months their true colours will show (honeymoon phase) · true love doesn’t exist · after the talking stage you either get into a situationship or go no contact · getting into a relationship is hard ·

women can’t be friends with men · women are complicated · they only want your money and wouldn’t want to date men who earn little · there is always another woman · they always look for someone better · you have to work on your divine feminine energy · you need to get out of your masculine energy · a woman needs to know her place

concepts of work.

money doesn’t grow on trees · it’s hard to get money · you have to work hard in order to afford your lifestyle · only if you do the work you can get a promotion · you could never be a ceo · you need to be privileged and born into richness for this position · this generation is lazy · no one wants to work · they are all going to end up jobless and poor · nowadays we are only evolving backwards

concepts of school.

you need to learn in order to get good grades · you cannot be smart without putting in the effort · teachers always have their favourite students · it's almost impossible to get good grades by teachers who can't stand you

concepts of health.

pasta makes you gain weight · you need to eat xyz and you cannot eat zyx · junk food is unhealthy · you need to workout in order to be fit · you can only lose weight by eating less · good skin requires an expensive skin care routine · t's hard to treat acne · you cannot get rid of scars on your face

self sabotage.

all in all, it all comes down to one thing: but is this what you want to believe in? do these beliefs serve you in any way? can you continue believing in them without worsening life for yourself? see, i am not the one shoving these concepts down your throat and expecting you to tweet "men ain’t shit". it’s all up to you if you want to claim these concepts as your truth or not. but if you keep believing in any undesirable concept that you KNOW does not help you in any way, you are only self sabotaging yourself IF you know that you can change these beliefs of yours.

evaluation.

the reason why i made this post is to emphasise that you can CHOOSE to believe in these concepts or not. you aren't tied to them. you don't depend on them. and you don't need to follow these concepts either.

i know we live in a society where even if you don’t initially believe that men suck or that you will get cheated on one way or another, we are still influenced by the experiences of others and may end up experiencing these things regardless. but you don’t have to!!! just because jessica had a man promise her the world and left her with nothing it doesn’t mean that it’s gonna happen to you as well. you are NOT her, you aren’t — and you don’t have to be — ANY of these people telling you about how awful people are, how sickening it is to date in this decade, etc. you don’t have to believe ANY of these things, in fact, you can change these concepts and the people around you.

in conclusion, you are your own person with your own individual beliefs. however, you have the CHOICE. no one's forcing you to believe any of these concepts, nor do they hold a universal truth to them. they come from the same awareness that can state the exact opposite.

with love, ella.

[lebrookestore]

sixteen | l.dh [part ii]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.

Playlist: here 

Notes from brooke: here it is!! the second and final part of this fic that has taken me a whole year to write and i'm as proud of it as I am nervous to put out the rest of it here for all of you. as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

➳ read part i here!!

vii] now.

The aroma of coffee beans being ground wafted through the air, somehow managing to brighten your foul mood. You had never been much of a morning person and could barely start your day without some form of caffeine in your system. On most days, you made your coffee at home before setting out to work, but today you wanted to treat yourself a little bit, and what better way than to put your money towards something practical? 

(This was a hundred percent your attempt at trying to convince yourself the overpriced eight dollar coffee you had just ordered was worth it.)

“Iced Latte for Y/n?”

You got up from the stool you had occupied, making your way over to the counter and barista who had called for you. In another life, you would be one of those cool working ladies who managed to down americanos without flinching, but in this one you were quite content with the milky sweet goodness of a latte. You handed over the money you owed and lifted the straw to your lips, sighing in happiness as soon as the drink hit your tastebuds. 

“Hey, I had placed my order…” A man's voice startled you, but it wasn’t the abruptness that caught you off guard- that was pretty typical for a busy Tuesday morning in New York- but rather the familiarity of it as it trailed off. You spun on your heel quickly, coming face to face with a rather dumbfounded looking Donghyuck. 

You stared at him, lips parting in surprise at his presence there. The barista behind cleared her throat expectantly, waiting for Donghyuck to reiterate his drink order.

He snapped out of the initial shock of seeing you at that. “Right, sorry. I had asked for a caramel frappe about ten minutes ago?” Of course he still had the same order from when you were teenagers, one that was much sweeter than yours. 

“Oh yes, it's ready. Sorry for the delay sir!” Her cheery voice rang out as she held out the drink.

You were still rooted to the spot in front of him.

He pressed his lips together, cocking his head to the side to silently motion towards the counter, signalling that you were currently in his way. “Uh.”

“Oh.” You stepped out of the line, feeling embarrassment quickly creep up upon you for your slowness right then. He grabbed his drink, and moved out of the way for the next person as well, stopping before you for a second, eyes lingering on your face as if trying to read your expression, gauging whether he should say something or not.

Terribly self conscious, you took another sip of the latte you held, though it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. He sighed softly, seemingly deciding that doing nothing was for the best, and walked away.

What were the odds of you running into him like this? You had banked on only having to see him when Yeonmi had him over, but now you realised that was incredibly naive of you, since run ins were bound to happen from time to time. It seemed that your naivety from your youth hadn’t quite run out yet.

Often, you thought about how you had been so quick to shut down his pleas to talk about things with you that one movie night, how defensive you had been from the get go. He had done his best to be cautious while approaching the topic, as if he had seen the mental caution tape you had wrapped around your heart when it came to him, but you had been so afraid.

Afraid that whatever explanation he provided you with wouldn’t be sufficient to heal the would he had inflicted. Afraid that if you even began to let him in, you’d forgive him immediately and feel pathetic about dismissing the part of you that was so angry at being left behind without so much as a goodbye. 

But as you watched him walk away and to the door of the cafe, you couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t let him speak. 

Wasn’t closure something everyone wanted and deserved? You more than anyone knew this and maybe that's what you would have gotten if you hadn’t been so stubborn that night.

Your legs moved on their own, carrying you towards his departing figure. “Wait!”

He stilled, turning around slowly to make sure it was him you were talking to, which was a surprise in itself to him. You bit down on your lower lip, scrambling to find the words you needed to communicate with him. 

“Do you have a few minutes?”

His gaze softened the way it used to when it came to you and he nodded. “I can make time.”

You glanced down at your watch, grateful for actually having one sitting on your wrist. In truth, you had only bought it after noting how almost everyone in your workplace wore one. It didn’t seem professional to constantly be checking your phone for the time, but you did it anyway, leaving the watch to be just another accessory you donned. 

Right now, its utility made itself known. 8:00 am. “I have to be in office in an hour,” you informed him. “So I can’t stay long but….we can talk?” You mentally winced at how you ended what you had hoped to be a confident statement as a question. 

“I’d like that.”

The two of you made your way to a small table in the back, sitting opposite each other. You were grateful for the window on your left, which served as a good distraction from the man in front of you. Cars whizzed by on the busy NYC streets, painting the scene in a blur of reds and yellows against the grey concrete background. 

He tapped his fingers against the table periodically, the rhythm finally giving you the courage you needed to begin.

“You were right,” you said finally, desperately searching for the words to appropriately approach the topic at hand. “We do need to talk. I should have listened.”

“It’s okay, I should have approached it differently considering,” he paused, mulling over what he was about to say, not wanting to be insensitive but also not wanting to underplay the severity of what you felt. “Well, everything.” 

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, this was going nowhere and was getting increasingly more uncomfortable with every passing minute. You should have just let him leave instead of heeding to your intrusive thoughts and going after him, you should have watched him walk away and bit down your tongue in regret later on in the privacy of your room. 

It was as if he had sensed your trepidation and decided to put you out of your misery. “How are you?”

Small talk. Right. You could do that. 

“Good, good,” you had no idea why you said it twice. “Mostly just busy with work and you know, adulting. You?” 

“Pretty much the same, work.” He smiled softly at you, and you wondered how he somehow still made that feel like a reward for you, how something as simple as that could have a deceitful warmth bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “I have to get to the studio in a bit.”

“Studio?”

“I’m a music producer,” he clarified, and the conversation was almost too reminiscent of his date with Yeonmi, except a little more meaningful this time. A certain sense of shyness washed over him at telling you what he did for work, because although he was extremely proud of his job, your opinion of it mattered to him more than anyone else's ever could. 

“That's amazing! Do you like, get to meet famous people?” Your reaction was genuine, just as you had always been with him. You had once been the only person he thought believed in him. He could see the fraction of joy that sparked in your expression, truly happy on hearing this news.

He chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, I do. There are a couple of them I regularly work with.” It wasn’t in his nature to brag, but the starstruck look that appeared in your eyes made it worth it for once. 

“Wow,” you mumbled, fiddling with the straw in your drink. “I just work in HR.” Your life felt awfully boring in comparison to him, but then again, that was a feeling you had made your peace with a long time ago. He had always been the more interesting, more magnetic person from the two of you- or perhaps from everyone in general. A stranger could take a look at him and know that he was made to walk a path different and more vibrant than most. 

An awkward silence settled after that, only succeeding in increasing your anxiety levels. Pleasantries were over, so where the hell were you supposed to go from there?

“I didn’t know Yeonmi was your roommate,” he said quietly, not looking at you. “I’m sorry for the position I’ve put you in, I promise you it wasn’t intentional.”

“I never thought it was,” you assured him. “I didn’t think it was you she was talking about either. This is just some sort of freak coincidence, I guess.” You hesitated for a moment, before deciding to not overthink anything having to do with the situation. There were so many questions left unanswered that you had no qualms with getting right to the point now that you could. “I don’t even care actually, I just want to know one thing.” 

The flippancy in your voice almost made him wince. “Anything.”

“Why did you do it?” 

And suddenly, Donghyuck felt as if he was back as his teenage self, staring at you through his younger self's perspective. He had been so unforgivingly impulsive at that age, and selfishly so, unable to put himself in anyone else's shoes. Of course, he had felt guilty for what he had done, to the point where he felt sick in the days that followed, but he had done it to protect himself from having to deal with your reaction to the news. News that had, back then, ruptured the little world of bliss he had cultivated with you by his side. 

How could he have explained anything back then anyway? He had always hidden that part of his life from you, the constant instability and fleeting nature that it possessed. Putting it together made it sound like a bad excuse, and you definitely did not deserve that.

 But he wasn’t an avoidant teenager anymore, and neither were you. What you deserved was the whole truth and nothing but that, and so he steeled himself, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you. 8:15 am. He didn’t really have much time, but he was going to do his best.

“I spent most of my childhood moving around from place to place. I think the longest I stayed in a town was two years at most, and for the longest time, I resented my mother for that.”

This was something you had waited for all your life, or at least, that was how you felt, and now you were finally going to get the explanation you had spent years trying to put together for a fickle sense of closure. Here you were, finally getting what you had spent birthday wishes and pennies down fountains for since you were sixteen, hoping and praying that it would happen for your sake. Here you were, getting it from your first love.

It was three in the morning and though the caffeine from your coffee had long since worn off, you found yourself lying in your bed wide awake. It had been a few hours of tossing and turning underneath your sheets, trying to find a position comfortable enough to succumb to sleep but evidently, seeing that you were now staring at your ceiling in frustration, had been wholly unsuccessful.

You were going to need an extra large cup of coffee to curb your inevitable grumpiness the next morning. A sigh left your lips as you threw your covers off, sitting up in your bed and taking in your room in the darkness, hoping you would feel the heaviness set in on your eyelids. When that didn’t happen, you swung your legs over the side and landed on the wooden floors, slipping your feet into your house slippers and opening your door as quietly as possible.

A glass of water should put everything right and curb your restlessness. Your optimism was admirable, if not downright stupid. The cause of your current state was fairly obvious.

So there you were, now holding an empty glass. You had finished your water, and didn’t feel any better, not wanting to go back to bed in the slightest. 

Donghyuck rippled through your mind, and you shut your eyes, trying to block him out. The sight of those sad eyes of his as he explained what really happened all those years ago had been imprinted in your mind, and it had left you with nothing but contempt.

You despised the childish reasoning that consumed the entire explanation, the way it felt like everything that had happened and what you felt had been so trivial and completely avoidable if he had just spoken to you. Eight years, that was how long you had waited just for it to feel as if he had just rubbed salt in your wounds, and you hated every second of it.

What you hated most though, was the way you completely understood why he did it.

The more you thought about what he told you, you couldn’t help but empathise with him. Sure, you wouldn’t have done what he did if you were in his position, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had never been in his position, and it was clear that his younger years had been scattered all over the place.

How could he have known any better when he too was learning how to navigate his emotions at that age? He was a child and you couldn’t hold anything against a child now that you were an adult.

I’m sorry.

Suddenly, why those had been the last thing he ever said to you made sense. He knew what he was doing and did it anyway. The burn that you felt every time you thought about it hadn’t subsided.

Your younger self was angry at how things had turned out, pissed at being left in the dark even if you understood why. You wanted so badly to hate him for what he had done to you, but no matter how hard you tried to push yourself to do so, you just couldn’t. Instead, another emotion lied in the place you tried so hard to fill with hate, and it scared you even more.

He had hurt you to such a colossal extent, and yet that little flame inside of you refused to be put out, or even have the mercy to dim itself for your sake. It flickered back to life the moment you set eyes on him again and you knew this to be true by the effect he still had on you.

You never stopped loving Donghyuck. You only started hurting, and let the pessimistic degree of that feeling drown out everything else.

“I should have handled it better,” his frustration with himself was clear by the way he exhaled agitatedly. “I know I was a dick to you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. If I could go back and do it all again, I’d do it very differently, but I can’t.” He sounded pained, his sorrow cutting deep into your freshly reopened wounds and making you realise that he had hurt himself in the process of doing what he did. 

While you had been painstakingly stitching yourself back together after him, he had been doing the same, reaping what he had sown in your garden. He was as old as you had been, and emotions are often magnified in the melodrama of youth.

It didn’t feel like that magnification had dulled out though, the regret potent in his voice, matching your emotional state. 

“But if there's anything I can do now….I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

You were drowning, sinking rapidly below the surface as the waves thrashed around you, unrelenting and ruthless. You gripped the cup in your hands, a warm pressure building behind your eyes, making you feel even more miserable than you already were. The realisation of your present feelings overwhelmed you, and you crumbled against the counter, letting yourself lean against the cupboards as you settled on the floor.

He’d do anything for you. He said it himself.

So then…would he…?

A choked sound escaped your throat- something that sounded like a cross between a bitter laugh and a sob. You were deplorable, truly, for even letting the thought cross your mind, but god.

Would he end things with Yeonmi for your sake?

The topic of your roommate hadn’t been brought up during your chat, the two of you skirting around the topic for all you were worth. It felt like taboo, and although it was probably something worth mentioning, you were glad you hadn’t needed to deal with it just yet. You held so much love for Yeonmi, but right then she seemed like more of an obstacle than anything else. 

But if she knew the truth and Donghyuck and you, wouldn’t she think the same? She had done nothing wrong, so you were the problem here. You were the obstacle you had never signed up to be.

The question sat heavy upon your tongue, and you so desperately wanted to ask it.

You couldn’t do that to your friend, you would never. She hadn’t been this happy with someone since her sorry excuse of an ex broke her spirit, and you couldn’t bear to be the one to take that away from her. You couldn’t, even if it meant that it broke you, because goddamnit you were still irrevocably in love with Lee Donghyuck.

And all you wanted to do was hate him. 

viii] then.

Donghyuck’s room was much planer than yours, with just a clock hanging on one of its walls. A keyboard in one corner of the room and a guitar leaning against the side of his closet, you supposed that he hadn’t had much time to put too much thought into decorating just yet.

“You can put up posters of all those bands you keep talking about,” you suggested, running your fingers through his hair. You were sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard with him lying in between your legs, looking up at you fondly 

Your boyfriend frowned lightly, “Too much effort.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re just lazy. I can help you, you know. We could go print the posters after school.” Your enthusiasm was endearing, but he didn’t really see a point. Nevertheless, he didn’t have the heart to shoot your ideas down and nodded noncommittally, enjoying the feeling of you absent-mindedly massaging his scalp.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he said lazily. A silence settled, and although it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, he began humming a melody. 

You had heard him sing several times now, usually while he accompanied himself on guitar and his voice was just like the rest of him- captivating. It was gentle but still strong, his tone conveying the message and feel of any song he picked perfectly. He had once confessed that he would love to work in the music industry one day, no matter what the role was, but then brushed off the wish, saying that it was a shot in the dark. 

To counter this, you told him that if anyone could make it, it would be him. By no means did your words shake off his doubts or uncertainty, but you could tell that the faith you had in him helped him feel better. 

“What song is that?” You tilted your head, looking down at him. He shrugged. 

“It isn’t one, just a tune that came to me,” it was such a simple thing, and it still somehow earned him an impressed look from you, making him laugh. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.”

“You’re the dorkiest.”

“Hey! Dork-? Is this the shit I get for being nice to you?” You pouted, the offence heavily lacing your voice making him laugh, and to soothe your ruffled feathers, he dropped a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“A cute dork.” 

His mother was out, leaving the house empty save for the two of you. The privacy was nice, much better than your house for sure, where your mother was always hovering for some reason, even though you hadn’t told your parents about your new relationship just yet. She was overprotective, and while you were definitely going to tell them, you didn’t particularly want to deal with any outbursts just yet, wanting to savour the beginning of it all and keep that joy just for yourself.

As far as you knew, Donghyuck didn’t have a father, but he had never gotten into the details. He made sure to tell you that it wasn’t because it was hard to talk about, but because there wasn’t much to say about the man anyway, since he had never known him or even met him. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to fake annoyance to the best of your abilities, but you weren’t and never had been immune to the butterflies he managed to set free in your stomach with that kiss, a smile slowly forming on your face. Your hands moved to his face, cupping it gently as you leaned closer.

“Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere.”

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, “What will then?”

“A proper kiss maybe,” you mused, matching his playfulness. He immediately took you up on your proposal, smiling into the kiss. 

You were glad his mom wasn’t around.

Neither of you had ever kissed anyone before, but somehow he was still very good at it, a single touch of his igniting a pleasant buzz on the surface of your skin. Everything you knew about kissing came from books and movies, but you could only hope you had the same effect he had on you.

If you only knew. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had started dating, and he had memorised everything he could about you he possibly could- the shape of your mouth and the slope of your nose, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed and the sound of it, he knew it all like the back of his hand. It wasn’t hard to be with you, it came to him like second nature, and part of him was convinced that everytime his mother had moved them from place to place, it was to bring him here to this moment. 

To be lying in your embrace, tangled in your arms and the gentle, loving kisses you pressed to his mouth and forehead- this was the definition of bliss, and everything about it was so utterly ignorant. 

“You taste like sour patch candies,” you muttered softly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. You had quickly grown addicted to Donghyuck, deciding right then and there that you wouldn’t trade this for anything in the entire world. 

“Mhm, I was eating them before you came over.” 

You chuckled. “You, sir, have a problem.”

“Drama queen, you’re exaggerating a little too much. I only had a few.” 

“You had an entire packet, didn’t you? No wonder it's so noticeable.” The light wash of crimson that appeared on his cheeks at being caught gave him away.

“It can’t possibly be that noticeable.”

“It wouldn’t be if you didn’t consume copious amounts of that candy.”

He simply kissed you again in retaliation, a consequence you could definitely live with and had no complaints about whatsoever. “Shut up, you know you secretly like it.”

You never had the chance to argue with that one, once again silenced by his lips against yours. He was undoubtedly right about that accusation, for you liked it almost too much. You liked everything about him too much, and for the first time you understood the typical giddiness that was portrayed in every teen movie you watched growing up.

Every school day was something to look forward to now, making it possible to spend almost every day with him. You sat on desks next to each other, sometimes listening to music together and trying not to get caught talking to each other. The teachers had definitely picked up on the fact that there was something between the two of you, considering the amount of disproving looks you had gotten sent your way for laughing a little too loud at the jokes he would crack under his breath. 

Holidays were spent with you trying to finish all your homework as quickly as possible so you could hang out with him or Sakura and Chenle, making it so that every single day was bright and exciting from the moment you awoke. 

“You have no proof of that,” you pointed out, sitting up straighter to be able to kiss him better, savouring the way his arm immediately slid around your waistline. He smirked, his hand slipped just under your t-shirt but staying at your waist, fingers tracing abstract shapes upon the expanse of your skin.

“You’re still kissing me, aren’t you?”

The local playground was pretty deserted after eight on Sunday evenings, mothers having taken all their babies and toddlers back home for their nightly routine. Other highschool juniors or seniors didn’t really hang out there, opting to spend their time at the small skate park on the other end of town, which made it a perfect hangout spot for you and your friends.

Chenle slipped a cigarette pack out of the pocket of his designer hoodie, along with a bright red lighter. “Does anyone want one?”

Your reaction mirrored Sakura’s, who currently wore a frown. “Since when are you a smoker?”

“Johnny hyung taught me yesterday when he invited me to hang out with the seniors,” he filled you in, and you groaned, leaning into Donghyuck’s touch. He had an arm around your shoulders as the two of you occupied the bench swing, while Chenle and Sakura were sitting on the ends of the metal slides.

“Please don’t follow in his footsteps.” 

He lit one of the cigarettes, rolling his eyes. “Can you chill?”

“You do not have to smoke Chenle, you’re sixteen, not a wildly miserable forty year old  divorcee. You’re doing it just because you think it's cool and because Johnny does it.” Sakura shared your view of the senior, and as hospitable and lovely as he was, you didn’t particularly support his life choices.

“That is not true,” Chenle contested, and your other friend huffed. “Johnny is a great friend.”

You shook your head in disapproval. “He’s a bad influence.”

“He’s not! He’s really cool Y/n, I swear,” He waved his cigarette around, gesturing towards your boyfriend. “Right, Donghyuck?”

His admiration for the senior boy had only grown since the day of the party. To put it plainly, he thought the absolute world of the older boy, making an effort to spark a friendship. To say that he was overjoyed when Johnny started inviting him places was an understatement, if the excited call you got from him said anything. 

Donghyuck looked all too amused and nodded. “He is pretty cool.”

He got two scathing looks as a result, one from Sakura and an unimpressed stare from you, causing him to clear his throat, quickly following up. “But! That doesn’t mean you should follow his every move. You definitely shouldn’t smoke, smoking is bad.”

Now that he was back in your good graces, you kissed his cheek and looked at Chenle pointedly. “Please don’t end up like him.”

“I would love to end up like him.”

Jesus Christ. There was no saving him.

“With all the shit he pulls, he’s going to end up dead by twenty-five. Do you want to die?” He put the pack and lighter back in his pockets, brushing off Sakura’s grim statement. 

“One cigarette won’t kill me.” 

“Yes, but if you make smoking a habit and get addicted, it will eventually. Lung cancer is a thing, you know.” Your reminder was not taken kindly, and he groaned, taking a puff before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with his heel, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to smoke it in peace with you guys around anyway. 

“You are all so boring.” He whined, glaring at Donghyuck. “And you’re a hypocrite. Didn’t Johnny teach you how to smoke too?”

Having stayed a silent observer for most of this conversation, Donghyuck seemed to momentarily scramble for his words. “Only at the party, I haven’t smoked anything since then and I don’t intend to do it casually. It was a one time thing, and it was almost two months ago.”

“Remind me to only ever smoke at Yuta hyung’s place, because you guys are too annoying.”

Sakura perked up where she was sitting, blinking rapidly. “Nakamoto Yuta?”

He nodded, smiling almost evilly at her. “Yeah, I hang out with your crush more than you do. Maybe if you didn’t have such a stick up your ass, he’d invite you too.”

“Ugh, I hope you do die.” 

She had gained quite the infatuation with Yuta, having flirted with him at the party and hung out with him for quite a bit of the night. All her confidence to do so had come from the alcohol though, because she ran in the opposite direction of him at school, too nervous to go up to him and strike conversation so casually. 

You snuggled closer to Donghyuck, the evening air taking a turn for chilly. You loved having him around and was overjoyed at how well he fit into your little group, getting along with them as if they were his best friends as well. Being with him was effortless, just how it should be. 

“You should at least try talking to him,” you suggested, “If you don’t try, how do you know he’s just going to reject you? Didn’t he spend almost the entire party with you?”

“Easy for you to say,” she scowled, but you knew she meant no ill will and was simply joking. “You got the guy from like, the moment you met him.” Her words had you bite back a bashful smile. 

“That's true,” Donghyuck quipped almost proudly, rubbing your shoulder and dropping a kiss to your temple. He noticed the way you had tucked your hands under your legs. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured you, taking it off and draping it over your shoulders, and resuming his previous position of having his arm around them. Sakura and Chenle simultaneously pretended to gag.

“The two of you are disgustingly adorable.” She complained, and Chenle agreed.

“Yeah, you make me feel so single I want to smoke.” 

The sound of Sakura hitting his arm at that comment resounded through the empty park, making you laugh. You hadn’t realised how bland your life had been before this year because now it was like the colours were brighter and much more vibrant than before, so much more interesting. This was how highschool was supposed to be, you thought to yourself as you slid your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, simple and rosy tinted, without a single worry in the world. 

ix] now.

This was the tenth time Donghyuck was listening to the track.

He paused it and dragged it back to the start, playing the song once again. Something about it was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it just yet, subjecting himself to analyse it over and over as a result. 

He shut his eyes, trying to absorb the song and search for what was not clicking for him, letting himself be consumed by the music. The melody washed over him, the powerful vocals and enticing beat soaking into his system. In his expert opinion, it was one step away from being a hit on the charts. He just had to figure out what step he had to take in order to achieve that.

Usually, he would stay and work on it until he managed to come to a solution, but for some reason all he wanted to do was go home today. He wasn’t focused on his work, as much as he loved music and what he did, for some reason today he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe the thing that was off with the song was his demeanour at that moment. For all he knew, when he felt better and more motivated to work on it, it might sound ready to put out into the world without him having to change a single thing.

Donghyuck needed to clear his head. He pushed himself away from his desk and stretched his legs, walking to one of the windows of the studio and peering outside. 

He loved the studio, he practically lived there half of the time, sleeping on the sofa when he stayed too late or was too tired to drive home amidst a project. Every instrument inside was precious to him, every piece of equipment important. It was filled with happy memories for him, with artists waltzing in and out of his space and entrusting him with their life’s work. Their vision collided with his artistic view, and even though his name wasn’t bedazzled in the lights and he wasn’t directly in the limelight, he had somewhat managed to make a name for himself in the industry he had always loved.

The studio was more his home than his apartment, so then why did he so want to go back to the latter at the moment?

Looking out into the streets of New York, it hit him.

It wasn’t his apartment he was yearning for, per se, but more so the idea of home. It was something he had struggled with coming to terms with for the longest time, having never stayed anywhere long enough to consider home throughout his formative years. As a default, home had never taken the form of a place or a house on a particularly named street, but instead had always been a person. 

During his childhood, it had been his mother, for she was the only truly constant thing in his life back then. As his teenage years rolled around, even she started to feel alien to him. He began perceiving her as less of a home and more of the reason he didn’t have one. 

And then there was another person who became his home, and she came in the form of you. You were his age and much more relatable, it was much easier to place all his hope and trust in you, especially when just being around you made him forget about all his problems. When he was with you, his life seemed to lose that intense sense of instability that always kept him on edge. 

You somehow stabilised him, but he lost that stability in less than a year. In an attempt to reconcile with his guilt, he began punishing himself by changing his number and cutting you off completely, telling himself that it would help you as well. Once again, he was without a home, and his relationship with his mother was further strained. 

At eighteen, he moved out to New York. 

New York was his home now, the place he had stayed for the longest time. It was a place finally, somewhere he could point out with his finger and proudly say he lived in. He finished up his education, going to college and teaching himself music production on the side. He worked two part time jobs and enrolled himself in production classes. 

It was hard being all alone in a city as big as New York, in an unfamiliar and cold place. The loneliness hit him hard, and that led him to calling his mother. After a year in the city, working and studying hard, he finally understood why she had done what she did while he was growing up and appreciated her for it.

He had his big break at twenty-two while working under a small record label. The song he had worked on as a producer went number one on the billboard charts, rocketing the singer from an unknown person to a household name and right under theirs, was his.

He was being praised by critics for his experimental style and the little things in the production that made the song what it was. Suddenly, he was in demand and made real, good money- amounts that he had never seen in his life. He sent half of it to his mother and could now visit her as many times in the year as he so pleased. 

Every sacrifice was worth it. It had gotten to where he was standing and made him who he was. 

But you being in his home now?

That made him question it. You displaced him.

New York had only started to properly feel like home when he had made it big, the big scary city not seeming so scary anymore. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere after years of lacking that. 

The only time he had ever belonged to someone was when he had been with you. 

When he left your town, he had left a piece of his heart behind with you, just as he had taken a piece of yours with him. He had never gotten it back, searching for it- something, someone perhaps- in the faces of strangers. 

He had put all his faith in finding that in Yeonmi, a woman who reminded him of you, only to find out that she was simply influenced. He was stuck, frozen in place by a choice that seemed impossible to make. Whatever course of action he took, any option he picked, it always seemed to make him the bad guy. He couldn’t just drop her for you because things were too complicated for that, and it would in turn make you the bad guy as well, but he couldn’t keep on feeling this way while being with someone else.

Home. Donghyuck knew right then that he wasn’t yearning for his apartment, or the city itself. He was yearning for you.

Donghyuck wanted you there in his studio, in his apartment- just with him maybe would be enough. Not just wandering and brushing shoulders in the vast city that you called home as well, but by his side constantly, to once again be the home that grounded him.

The realisation washed over him, but it didn’t come as a total surprise. Part of him had always known that you were it for him, especially when he saw you for the first time again that night he dropped a drunk Yeonmi home to you. The reason he couldn’t focus was you, how badly he wanted to run back to you and ignore all the complications that came with it, right back into the arms that were his true home. 

Occasionally, you would think about Sakura and Chenle. 

You had long since lost contact with your highschool best friends, inevitably drifting apart from them with the course of time. Once university began, even managing to text each other turned into a chore, and the only times you saw each other or hung out was during the summer when you went back home. Once you moved to New York and started going home less, those few moments turned into nothing at all.

Nevertheless, you hadn’t forgotten about them. They had been your constants for so long, people you trusted with all your heart and soul, always running out of your house to meet them. You fondly recalled all the late night calls and sneaking out and sleepovers, complaining about examinations and school together, and spending your summers with iced teas and hanging out at the local diner. From drinking sprite to sneaking alcohol, a lot of your firsts have happened with them. 

They held you together when Donghyuck left. They picked up the shattered pieces, sticking them back together the best they could with the resources they had. They were the ones that got you to smile again and eventually forget about him long enough to forget that you were trying to. 

Even though you haven’t spoken to them in years, you still thought about them. You would never stop being grateful. 

You also wondered how they would react if they knew what your life had come to. 

The coffee you had ordered this time was hot, and you cupped the mug, letting the warmth of the drink seep through the ceramic and to your fingers. You were in what had become your regular booth in the cafe, and across from you sat none other than Donghyuck himself. 

Ever since that day, an unspoken sort of agreement to at least be friends had passed between the two of you- a truce of sorts. It was only logical, considering he was technically with Yeonmi, and it meant that you would have to learn how to put everything aside for that. Oddly enough though, you never talked about your roommate, and he didn’t make an effort to bring her up either. 

Sakura would have glared at you in disbelief. Chenle would be laughing his ass off in some corner.

Meeting at the cafe had turned into a ritual of sorts. You would meet him there every Tuesday before work and both of you would chat and have your drinks before parting ways. Admittedly, you had started looking forward to these little rendezvous with him, they somehow managed to make your entire week. 

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised at this. Donghyuck had always had that effect on you and clearly nothing had changed. He still made you laugh more than anyone else and left you with that warm, fuzzy feeling that made you think that anything was possible. 

Yeonmi did not know about these meetings. 

You had never mentioned them to her even once, and you were willing to bet that Donghyuck hadn’t either. He seemed to avoid talking about her entirely, and it seemed that he hadn’t been talking to her very much either, since your roommate had worriedly mentioned his lack of communication this past few weeks.

“He still talks to me,” she explained, eyes knit together in worry. “But not as much, you know? I can’t help but wonder if something is wrong.”

“I’m sure everything is fine.” You assured her when you were not, in fact, sure. You didn’t have the courage to ask about it anyway, and selfishly enough you didn’t particularly want to spend any of the little time you got with him talking about her.

You abhorred the way you had subconsciously turned against your friend, but it was fine because you had it under control. You could never do anything to hurt her, this was completely innocent. The two of you were just talking.

“You’ve met Lee Jieun?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide in awe. He held back a laugh at the starstruck look on your face, nodding as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. 

“Yeah, she’s very sweet and extremely talented. Worked on a few tracks on her last album.”

“I bought that album,” you said, putting your mug down and clasping your hands together. “I’ve been saving up for tickets to her concert.”

His lips twitched in amusement. “I can get you some if you’d like.”

Mouth falling open, you stared at him in shock, no words leaving your lips for ten seconds straight. “If I’d like?? I would love that, my god. I’ve been a fan for four years now and she’s always my top artist on spotify every year during spotify wrapped. My most listened to song is also always hers and she’s just so-”

You faltered when you glanced at him and noticed the doting expression he wore while looking at you- the sides of his lips were just slightly upturned, eyes following your movements keenly and hanging onto every word. It had heat rise up to your face and made you self-conscious because goddamnit, that was the exact way he would look at you when you were together. 

Fuck.

Your throat felt dry, and you swallowed hard, averting your eyes as you felt your cheeks burn. “I’m rambling,” you mumbled, fiddling with the teaspoon on the little place your cup sat in. “Sorry, I talk too much. I’ll shut up.”

“Don’t,” he immediately said, “I like hearing you talk.”

You blinked.

God. He really hadn’t changed at all, had he?

“R-right, uh, I just really, really love her music.” Everything about the moment threw you off. The way he was able to so skillfully grab you and plunge you back into the past you had tried so hard to run away from was jarring. It wasn’t even something that slowly crept up on you, instead clutching you by the collar and throwing you straight into it, right back into your sixteen-year-old self’s shoes. 

“I can tell. I’ll do my best with those tickets.” His promise almost flew over your head entirely and you forced a smile, staring down at your coffee awkwardly.  He still liked hearing you talk and your loquacious nature. Some things stayed the same no matter the course of time.

You let yourself wonder if he felt the same way about you as well, but just for a second. 

There was no way you could let yourself get away with thinking about it anymore because it would strip you of any dignity you had left. Your feelings for him had only grown dormant over the years and were now being awoken from their hibernation with every minute more you spent in his invigorating presence. It was unrealistic and childish to think that he felt the same way anymore.

The lack of any mention of Yeonmi, the way he seemed to be talking to you more lately and going so far as to meet with you on a weekly basis, well, the signs were definitely there, weren’t they? You were well aware of how much of an asshole move this was from both your ends towards your oblivious roommate, but as much as you tried to, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was terrible, but there was nothing happening. You were allowed to enjoy these fleeting moments that when boiled down to it, meant nothing at all.

But as he smiled at your excited demeanour, looking at you like you were everything he could ever want, you couldn’t help but wish that it did.

Yeonmi stood in front of the ice cream display, scanning all the different flavours at her disposal. You stood by her side, already digging into your own ice cream and waiting patiently for her to be done.

“You’ve already chosen what you want,” you pointed out. “Do you want a second cup or something?”

She shook her head. “Not for me, for Donghyuck. I’m going to meet him later on and since he likes sweet stuff I thought I’d get him a tub.” 

You paused your movements. Their meetings had grown sparse from what you had heard from her, with her having to plan most of them and him simply agreeing. It killed you a little on the inside, filling you with guilt at the suspicion that you had something to do with it.

The earnest lilt in her voice, her eagerness to please him- it reminded you so much of yourself. You disliked the way he was treating her, but you also found a sense of relief in it, and when you acknowledged that, you officially accepted that you were probably the worst friend in the universe.

“Have you chosen what you would like yet?” The teenager behind the counter asked impatiently. She looked like she would have rather been anywhere else in the world, but she was probably a highschooler who wanted some extra cash and this was the best she had gotten.

“No, sorry,” your roommate said dejectedly. “I’m not sure what he’d like.” 

Deciding to put her out of her misery, you spoke up. “Can we get a tub of cookies and cream?” The girl nodded, boredly taking one of the tubs out of the freezer and sliding it across the counter, calling out its price. Yeonmi flashed you a confused look and fumbled with her purse for a few seconds, taking out a few dollar bills and handing it over. 

The two of you walked out of the ice cream store, and she doubtfully looked at the tub. “What if he doesn’t like this?”

“He likes cookies and cream ice cream.”

“How would you know?”

You stopped walking and glanced at her, quickly realising you had slipped up. You tried not to take offence at the defensive nature of her tone, knowing that she had every right to be that way. She was technically his girlfriend, she should have been the one to know what flavour he would want. 

So you bit down hard on your tongue when the urge to tell her that you knew him better than she ever could sprung to its tip. You were bitter at having to let that go, your ego bruising from the fact that you weren’t entitled to the position of being the one who knew him so well, even though you had everything for it.

“He told me.” You said weakly, dropping your now empty cup into one of the bins on the sidewalk.

“When?”

Eight years ago. That was the truth, but you knew very well that you couldn’t possibly tell her that after pretending you had never met him before. The edge that her voice possessed right then put you off, but you brushed it to the side, knowing deep down that she had the right. “That one movie night we had.”

She frowned. “I don’t remember talking about ice cream at all.” 

“You fell asleep, remember? We spoke about it after that, just before he left.” The lie tasted sour, but not the pleasant kind of sour that is followed by a sweetness like a sour patch candy. This type of sour was persisting, the type that tainted your mouth from just its feel, spreading to your lips and the back of your neck.

“Oh.” She sounded hollow, letting the arm that held the bag containing the tub of ice cream fall limply to her side. “Okay.”

“You can tell him you picked it out.” 

You knew he wouldn't believe it anyway. “Okay,” She repeated, but you could tell how miserably she truly was. Resentment filled you, but just as quickly so did pity, replacing the former in the blink of an eye.

She had finally moved on from her sorry excuse of an ex and found happiness in another man, only for him to suddenly pull away right when she was ready to give it her all. You understood that more than anyone ever could, but in a completely different sense. To her, Donghyuck was emotionally absent now. For you, he had been wholly absent, snatched away and out of your reach for so long.

Yeonmi still had the chance to hold him, if he let her. You never had that.

And then your pity for her was replaced by anger.

Donghyuck had no right to run her around in circles like he was doing. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to make a decision on whether he wanted her or not.

You didn’t want to know the answer though, because the chances of it breaking your heart were high, and you didn’t think you’d be able to handle another heartbreak at his hands. It could also remove him from your life once again, and you’d continue to be haunted, just by new memories this time around. 

And just like that, you understood why he couldn’t make a decision so easily, because you couldn’t either. You wanted nothing more than for him to choose you, but it was the very last thing you would ask for, reluctant and afraid to hurt someone else in the process of healing your very own innate brokennes.

So you walked with Yeonmi back to your shared apartment and talked about insignificant things to take her mind off it all, trying to do the same for yourself. 

x] then.

When a storm is coming, you can almost always tell.

It may not look like it, but intuition works in mysterious ways. That sinking feeling that stirs deep within your gut, discomfort flooding your system slowly and warning you of something bad to come. You try your best to ignore it, to pretend as if you’re overthinking and going crazy and that everything is fine. You revel in ignorant bliss and sunny days, growing all too comfortable with the stability of the everyday life you have grown accustomed to. You let yourself believe that the calm before a storm is permanent.

Donghyuck knew something was wrong the moment he walked into his house that fateful November evening, four whole months since he had first stepped foot inside it when they first moved in. He had learned the pattern of the switches, he knew the layout of the house by heart. 

His mother sat on the dining table, her face buried in her hands. Usually, he would walk upstairs to his room and not bother, but this time something made him stop.

“Mom?”

She looked up at him, and he noticed just how exhausted she looked. His mother was a beautiful woman, but time had worn her down just like it did to everyone, and all the stress she was under had caused some of her black hair to turn grey. Wrinkles showed on her palms, her laugh lines had grown deeper. 

“Donghyuck,” she said his name with a heavy sigh. “Come. Sit.”

On most days he had an excuse to avoid this, saying that he had homework or a project to work on, but today he complied, taking a seat next to his mother. 

“How was school today?”

“Good,” he answered. She gave him an encouraging smile that was clearly forced for his sake, and clasped her hands together.

“Good, good.”

“Is….is that it?” He asked gently, suddenly not wanting to be there. It was like his body was trying to get him out of the situation, knowing something was off before his brain did. Unfortunately, some things were unavoidable and inevitable, and just like that the clouds began to darken.

She shook her head, “No, there’s something I need to talk to you about” She reached out and grabbed his hand that was on the table, squeezing it hard. “It’s important, okay?”

He nodded slowly, now trapped within the conversation with no escape. His mother exhaled and shut her eyes, dropping her head in what seemed like defeat. “I’ve been offered a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes- with a much better salary. Of course, I’m beyond blessed with the amount I get now but we’d be more comfortable, it’s a better opportunity.” She rubbed the hand of his that she held soothingly, as if trying to soften the blow she was about to give. 

The waves gradually grew more turbulent, slow but definite. It was clear that she was trying to approach whatever she was trying to say with as much tact as possible, but was only succeeding in frustrating the boy with her vagueness. 

“Just spit it out, Mom. What's happening?”

“We’re moving, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck sat there, stunned into a silence at what his mother had just said. Finally, she was done beating around the bushes like he had wanted, but now he wished he had let her take her time. It almost didn’t even feel real to hear, the true weightage of her words not quite registering just yet.

“What?”

His voice was devoid of any emotion, falling flat and harshly against the gentle, apologetic facade that his mother upheld. “In a few months, I know that it’s hard to hear and I’m sorry I have to uproot your life once again but I promise it’ll all be worth it I just-” She shakily exhaled, as if trying to expel all the fatigue she had accumulated over the years of switching out jobs and moving around in an attempt to create a better life for her only son. “I promise I’ll try and make this bearable and it’ll be the last time.”

If she had the choice, she would never have chosen such a turbulent lifestyle. After all, who would ever want to thrust their child into such an unstable environment- it being unstable due to its ever changing nature? But being a single mother was difficult and she had to do whatever she had to in order to survive.

The ship that Donghyuck stood upon began to rock as the storm intensified. 

“It’s been less than a year,” He said icily. “Five months.”

“We’re not moving immediately. I have to finish up some work here and get everything together before we leave. Three months.” She rushed to assure him of this as if it fixed anything.

“So eight months. That’s still less than a year, Mom.”

“I know sweetheart, I’m so sorry.

Sympathy filled her expression and she squeezed his hand, trying to convey that she understood his frustration. That notion was perfectly ridiculous sounding to Donghyuck, how could she even begin to think that she understood how he would be feeling? If she did, then why was she once again ruining his life?

If she was really so sorry, she wouldn’t be doing this in the first place. He clenched his jaw, looking away from his mother and around the living room he had finally grown familiar with. Every other time this had happened he had always grinned and bore with it because there never seemed like a reason to fight back. He had grown complacent and used to the cycle, expecting it almost.

But this time he had prayed it wouldn’t be the same. This time, he had grown attached to the dusty streets of the town and the long school days. He had a favourite store, more friends than he had ever had in his life and more importantly, a favourite person. This time, it wouldn’t just be him leaving behind a bunch of acquaintances, it would mean him having to leave you behind as well. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of that, his fury welling up and coming to the surface. For once in his life he had someone he wanted to stay for.

“If you’re so sorry,” he said, voice low and enraged all the same, “You won’t do this again.”

Her eyes softened, “I have to. I won’t ask you to understand, but-” 

“I hate you.”

The moment he said it, he could see his mothers countenance crumble, but the sympathy in it only increased. No parent ever wanted to hear their child say those words to them and he knew that in his heart, he didn’t truly mean them, but he was just so indescribably angry with her and the world for constantly doing this to him. 

It was cruel for him to say it without any hesitation, that much was certain the moment he saw tears well up in her eyes. She was a strong woman, refusing to let them escape and fall down her weary face for his sake, and he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer. Aggressively, he pushed his chair back and stormed off, bounding up the stairs of the house that would no longer be his with his heart hammering in his chest.

It was only in the comfort of his room that he let himself let out the sob that had been choking him up as he crumpled near the foot of his bed, a heavy sense of loss already passing through him. His eyes drifted to one of the walls of his room.

He had never put much thought into decorating, but there on it were three posters you had managed to convince him to put up with you, insisting that they livened the place up a little. He would have to tear them down now, just like everything else in his erratic, volatile life. Every other time was easier because there had been no bonds to sever in the process. He had let himself foolishly trust that his continued resilience was all for the happiness he had ultimately found now.

Perhaps this was why he had been so reluctant to let you help him decorate his room. Subconsciously, he had known that it would all be for naught when the nature of his life caught back up to him. Somehow he had already known that this was never meant to be anything more than temporary.

The waves capsized his ship and down Donghyuck went, sinking beneath the surface of the storm and below the storming sea, drowning in his sorrow.

You sat in the driver's seat of your father’s car, legs propped up on the seat with your cardboard container of fries balancing on your knees. Donghyuck occupied the passenger's seat, biting into his burger.

The both of you were parked in the local diners parking lot in the late evening after school. Donghyuck had said something about not feeling like going straight home, and since you had driven to school that day, you suggested taking a detour and hanging out for a little. 

“I was thinking,” you started, picking out a fry and biting into it, glancing sideways at the boy who owned all of your teenage affections. 

“Hmm?”

“I wanna tell my parents,” you declared finally, finishing the fry. He blinked, lowering his burger and looking at you pointedly. “About us.”

“All of a sudden? Why?” His mystification was justified since ever since the two of you had begun dating, you had been adamant on trying to hide it from them. It hadn’t been the intent initially, you simply were procrastinating their reaction- not that it would be a bad one- and as time went on, it got easier to put off. That being said, it also got harder to hide.

You shrugged, shifting in the car seat and reaching out to adjust the volume of the radio. “I just think it’s time, you know? I’ve been putting it off long enough and I want them to know about you. The smile that crept up on your face when you said that was enough to have a pit form at the bottom of his stomach.

Guilt is an ugly emotion. It manifests slowly, digging into your insides as it grows in its magnitude until it's up to your throat, depriving you of air and choking you. 

Needless to say, you weren’t the only one putting off telling someone the truth.

Avoidance wasn’t something that was inherently built into his nature, but it came into play almost naturally now. He had managed to evade being around his mother as much as possible over the past week or so, ever since she had dropped the news that completely displaced his entire world. Similarly, he had been avoiding bringing up what was happening to you, telling himself that he still had some time

But the truth was, saying out loud and admitting it all to you was just too much for him. It made it feel real and not like some terrible nightmare he had been living for the past few days. He didn’t want the reality of it all to hit him just yet.

“Do you have to?”

“Kind of?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question. “We’ve been dating for almost three months now Hyuck, do you expect me to just keep it from them forever?”

He winced internally, beating himself up about how you were talking about your relationship with him. It felt wrong to let you naively talk about a supposed forever when he knew that simply wasn’t going to be the case.

Your forever was going to be quickly cut short. 

“Of course not,” he mumbled, sighing softly. “I don’t know. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

You frowned slightly, turning the volume down and putting your fries on the dashboard, giving him all your attention. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. He wanted to laugh, mostly because the only other option he had was to cry and he couldn’t do that without having to expose it all. Instead though, he shook his head as nonchalantly as he possibly could, refusing to meet your eyes and instead staring at his burger. “Nope.”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, that was definitely believable. Come on, tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You said you didn’t feel like going home today. Is it something to do with that?”

You were too smart for your own good. He rolled his eyes, attempting to remain lighthearted, “What if that just meant I wanted to spend more time with you?”

“Weird fucking way of putting it, then. You could have just said you wanted to hang out.”

He put his burger on the dashboard as well and turned to you, holding your gaze firmly in the hopes that it would thwart your suspicions by appearing to be sincere. “Y/n,” he said your name steadily, a slight smile playing upon his lips that from the outside looked effortless, when in reality it was the most forced he had ever been. “Nothing is wrong. Drop it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. You could respect that.  “Alright, I’ll back off.” You raised your hands to the sides of your face to mimic surrendering and earning an amused look from his end in the process. 

It scared him a little bit, how you seemed to be able to look right through him without even knowing the full extent of what he was going through. He had known you for so little time- too little almost- and yet you knew him better than anyone else. 

Leaving you behind was going to be the thing that hurt the most.

He leaned over and kissed you gently. “Thank you. And you’re right, you should tell your parents.” Your trusting countenance clawed at him, only worsening the sickening feeling of culpability that swirled in his gut. Maybe he’d tell you tomorrow, or the week after. Maybe he’d wait for another month so that he could gather his wits first.

If you doubted his confident facade, you didn’t let it show.

“Hey Donghyuck?”

“Hm?”

“I think I love you.”

Five little words should be entirely inconsequential, but even as young as he was, Donghyuck knew their true weightage. He knew you meant it by the credulousness in your gaze and the gentle squeeze of your hand on his. 

The two of you were sitting on the roof outside your room's window, you clad in sweats and his jacket- the very same one he had given you weeks ago at the playground. You had never given it back to him. He was in casual clothing as well, having sneaked onto your room during the early hours of the morning to hang out with you.

Time with you seemed to be fleeting now, and so he clung onto every minute he got. You had your head resting on his shoulder as the sun began peeking over the town and spilling its golden rays all over the little houses and buildings, lighting them up and bringing vibrancy to the town. 

Love was a complex emotion, a haphazard mishmash of several others in proportions that were unique to every occurrence it manifested itself in. Trust, admiration, infatuation and many more- they made up the feeling that everyone on the planet supposedly sought after so desperately. If it was truly so unpredictable, how did anyone know what it felt to be in love?

He sucked in a breath as seconds passed. Then, he squeezed your hand back.

“I love you too.”

xi] now.

Yeonmi was a great friend, ever ready to show her endless support for you in all your endeavours. 

“Smile! And for god's sake, get a drink and lighten up. It’s all your friends here.” She slid her index finger under the strap of your dress, lifting up to its correct position on your shoulder. 

You sighed and complied, flashing a smile for her sake, promising to make your way to the kitchen and do as she asked. She inspected your eye makeup one last time, pleased with how her handiwork had turned out and left your room, reminding you to hurry up and get out there. 

You had gotten a promotion at work a week ago, and when you had revealed the news to her she insisted that you celebrate properly for the occasion, taking it upon herself to organise a small party at your apartment. She invited some of your friends from work and a few mutual friends of yours- not too many people in all, but since your apartment wasn’t the biggest, it was already starting to feel a little cramped.

Pulling yourself together, you left the confines of your room, finding yourself humming along to the music that she was playing. The dress you had donned was definitely not as short as the ones you had insisted on wearing during your highschool years, having opted to go for a more respectful length now that you were older, but it made you feel pretty and put-together.

Among the familiar smiles and toned down congratulations that you received, you found your eyes wandering until they met another pair that was already trained on you.

Donghyuck was there, of course he was. Yeonmi had already told you that she had asked him to attend and you had been expecting his presence.

So why then did you feel your heartbeat pick up a little, as if it had come as a surprise?

You looked away

A slow hour passed.

In your teenage years, parties had been something you had always enjoyed partaking in, but right then you felt a tad uncomfortable. You quickly deduced that this was because all those times, you had just been another partygoer, lost among the rest of the drunken crowd. Here, you were the subject of the party, the centre of attention. 

People came up to congratulate you and make small talk. It struck you then, just how different your life was now from what it was back then. You were older in a different city, surrounded by people who had nothing to do with what felt like your previous life. Your old best friends, people you had thought would stick by you to the very end were not there, you were far away from your parents and were no longer a child that depended on them for everything. You had an apartment you called your own that you shared with your roommate. 

The only thing- person- that had somehow belonged to both your youth and adulthood was Donghyuck.

Flushed with the alcohol that you had consumed, you excused yourself from the umpteenth conversation you'd been dragged into with some of your colleagues and made your way to the kitchen, wine glass in hand. Shutting the doors behind you, you revelled in the momentary silence. 

You noticed the bottle of wine sitting on the counter and looked at your empty glass. Being the focal point of everyone's attention had never been something you particularly enjoyed and so to ease the bubbling anxiety inside of you, you walked over and poured yourself another, swirling it around and taking a good, long sip. 

The sweet wine trickled down your throat, kissing it soothingly with its tart berry flavours. You were no doubt tipsy at this point, having subconsciously fallen back upon the alcohol to support you through all the socialising. You truly wished Yeonmi hadn’t been so insistent on this stupid thing, you would have been more than happy to celebrate by going out to dinner, just the two of you.

“Oh! You’re here too.”

You spun around, clutching the stem of your wine glass a little tighter and automatically leaning your back against the counter when you felt your balance slip away from you a little. Donghyuck shut the door, hesitating.

“Am…Am I intruding?”

He totally was intruding on your solitude, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it came to him, thus shaking your head ‘no’. “Not at all, I just needed a moment.”

“I can leave if you’d like.”

“Don’t.” And you meant it. You didn’t want him to leave and he was the only one you would willingly tolerate at that moment. He flicked the lock of the door, sealing it shut to the rest of your guests and walked over to you with his own glass. You handed him the bottle of wine.

He nodded in silent thanks. “Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you took a small sip of your wine, looking at him and allowing yourself to study his matured features. There was not a thing about him that didn’t explicitly shine, a being so enigmatic and beautiful that it had you in awe of him even eight years later. “Not that it’s anything exciting like your job. I just sit in a nicer office now.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s still pretty cool, you’re still pretty young for your own office, aren’t you?”

You nodded bashfully. Even though you tried to remain as modest as possible when it came to the good news, you were quite proud of yourself. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get so far so quickly out of college.”

Donghyuck shuffled a little closer until he was right next to you. The urge to lean into him sprung up out of nowhere, the little voice in your head telling you to do so abruptly growing stronger. You drank the rest of your wine in an attempt to drown it out, only succeeding in doing the complete opposite.

God, he smelled amazing. You could get hints of the cologne he had on, a musky scent that had hints of something citrusy in the mix- thoroughly dizzying to you. You despised how much control he had over you without even knowing it.

“I had to repeat my senior year of highschool.”

His words snapped you out of your self-induced reverie, and you cocked your head to the side in question, prompting him to continue. As of late, your little coffee dates (your mind had defaulted to calling them that, even though you knew you shouldn’t), he had begun sharing bits and pieces of his life, and you had started doing the same. However, this was quite out of the blue, piquing your curiosity.

“After we moved,” he clarified, uncertainty creeping into his voice as if he was afraid of how you would react. “I almost flunked the eleventh grade finals in my new school and barely made it to the twelfth, and then that began, I barely attended, bunking almost all my classes to hang out with this group I had somehow managed to fall into.”

He sounded regretful as he spoke and you didn’t dare interrupt. You had often speculated what he was doing after he left, while you mourned the loss of your love, you had spent countless sleepless nights tossing and turning, wondering if he was thinking about you as well.

“They were terrible influences, but at the time I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was never in class, always at one of their garages with some sort of alcohol. A lot of that year was a blur, with me being drunk almost every day. I’d leave the house in the morning and say I was going to school and take a detour. My grades fell but I never paid attention to it because of how unhappy I was.”

Your eyes stung with emotion for him, because although you had resented him so much, he was still only a kid back then. Pairing this new information with what he had told you about his flighty childhood, you couldn’t even imagine the sheer level of frustration he must have experienced with having to adapt to yet another place.

“By the end of the year, my attendance was so terrible that they couldn’t let me write the finals, nor could they let me graduate, leaving me with the option to drop out. My mother was in tears and we fought a lot when I told her about it. At first I was fine with just dropping out and giving up, but she said something that made me rethink that.”

“What did she say?” You whispered, your heart feeling as if it was in your throat. You hadn’t even realised you had moved in position, now even closer and directly in front of him.

He sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t want me to end up like her. She wanted me to live without having to uproot every year or so, and the only way I could do that is if I didn’t give up. And that got me thinking about everything.”

His glass was empty now. “I realised I didn’t like my so-called friends, I hated what I had become and I didn’t want to continue living the way I had for so long. I thought long and hard about what my mother said and then…then I thought about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you held his gaze, searching his face for answers before he presented them to you. 

“Me?”

He reached out, his fingers oh-so-carefully brushing against the skin of your cheek, dragging back slowly and tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, lingering there. 

“Yes, you.” A wistful smile made a show on his face. “I thought about how my mother said she wanted me to graduate and push forward so I wouldn’t live the same life she created for us, and how if she had done the same thing she was begging of me, maybe-” His voice cracked, causing a jolt down your spine and your sight to blur slightly with the emergence of tears, but they didn’t fall just yet.

“-Maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave you.”

Fuck.

A single tear trickled down the apples of your cheeks, and the moment it did, his thumb wiped it away gently. 

“So I agreed to the second option, which was having to repeat my senior year. I attended every class that I could, I studied and worked hard for every test. I graduated late, but I managed to do it, and then I moved to New York just before I turned nineteen.”

“Donghyuck…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say.  It was clear to you now that he had to grow up a lot earlier than you had, even if it hadn’t seemed that way at first. You had a good family life and a stable, comfortable childhood. You were allowed to figure it out slowly, never being exposed to any sort of extreme turbulence that shook your world so deeply other than his leaving- and you had support through that as well in the form of your friends. Donghyuck had none of that, left all alone.

“All I wanted to say was that without you, I wouldn’t be where I am.”

“Don’t do that,” you said almost sorrowfully, “You did it yourself. I just happened to be a part of it for a little while.”

“You should have been a part of it for longer.”

He wiped the stray tears that escaped your eyes at that, knowing how much weight that statement alone held. You shut your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to try and pull yourself together, but to no avail. Quietly, you responded. “I know.”

“Don’t cry,” He whispered, tilting your face up by your chin, a fond expression gracing those gorgeous features of his, and your eyelids fluttering open to look at him, committing every single detail about them to your memory. “You look beautiful tonight, Y/n.”

The compliment stung, like needles digging into the surface of your skin roughly. You knew you were completely undeserving of it, that it should have been directed to your friend who was somewhere outside the privacy of the kitchen and yet there you were, basking in his attention like you always did in the few stolen moments you got with him. 

You were quite aware that you weren’t sober and you were willing to bet that he wasn’t either. Here the two of you were once again, eight long years later at a party, alone yet together. The irony of it all was not lost on you, and you somehow knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few seconds and still you made no motion to stop it. 

His lips found yours instinctively, kissing you hard. You let him, the familiarity of it all rushing back to you so quickly that it nearly knocked you off your feet. Your hands rested upon his arms as his mouth moved against yours, rendering you breathless and at his disposal. You were his, you had always been his just as he had always been yours, no matter how much time had passed or how much the two of you had changed.

If the wine had gotten you tipsy, his kiss had you downright intoxicated. You were drunk on the sensation, leaning into him to get as close as possible to take it all in. You memorised the way his thumb traced your jaw so tenderly as if you were made of glass and he was afraid to break you.

Life had somehow brought you right back to him full-circle, ending right when it had started the two of you off. Perhaps it was a cruel joke, to give you everything you had ever wanted in such a limited capacity and to simultaneously make it completely off-limits.

Eight years you had waited for this, and nothing had ever felt as liberating as it was wrong.

“We need to talk.”

It was the second time you were hearing these very words from Donghyuck’s mouth, and you were just as reluctant to comply as the first.

“No.”

He looked at you, frustration decorating the expression he had directed towards you. “We can’t keep avoiding it.”

Yeonmi had invited him over again for a movie night, but realised you had run out of coke and had volunteered to run down the store and get some more, blithely unaware of the clear tension between him and you. Then again, she had never noticed anything when it came to that, but it made your life much harder. 

“I think you’re just fine at that.” God, you couldn’t even begin to explain the magnitude of your anger. He was sitting there on the other end of your couch after a week of saying nothing to you- which was mostly your fault, considering you hadn’t shown up for your little coffee date that week and had stoutly ignored any calls or texts he sent your way- but that wasn’t the point.

The point in question? The fact that despite having kissed you, he evidently hadn’t broken things off with Yeonmi.

He frowned, “What do you mean?” 

Now, it wasn’t as if you wanted him to break up with her for you or anything, but rather because it was the right thing to do. Of course, this wasn’t to say that you didn’t secretly hope the former would be the reason for it, but deep down, you knew that you couldn't even indulge in that. The incident had been eating away at you ever since it happened–

– Well, what exactly had happened?

You recalled the way you broke out of his touch the moment he whispered your name against your lips and brought you back to reality. You remembered how the crash felt, the way you had been on top of the world for a few seconds before it all crumbled right at your feet, the long-growing anticipation dying out into unadulterated guilt.

You remembered thinking of Yeonmi, your sweet, supportive friend who hadn’t done a single thing to deserve what you had just done to her. 

When that happened, you wordlessly left the confines of the kitchen, avoiding him for the rest of the evening. Your cheeks felt hot and you felt light headed, but you had to keep up your image until everyone had gone home. He disappeared some time after that, the reason unknown to Yeonmi, who informed you of his sudden departure. 

“I mean, you’ve done a great job at completely avoiding talking about Yeonmi before, so you should have no problem avoiding talking about whatever happened between us.”

He clenched his jaw. “That's not fair and you know it.”

You did. You were too proud to admit it to his face though, refusing to let him pummel through your already shattered dignity. “Whatever.” You were still seated, staring up at him in defiance as your fingernails dug into the cushioning of the couch.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut me out again. Talk to me.”

“I shut you out because you left me, Donghyuck. I’m sorry for not letting you back in with open arms, if that's what you wanted from me.” You were terrified of this, manic at possibly having to face the music. You were so much better at running away from it all, away from him.

He sighed in retirement. “We kissed.”

Your throat felt dry. “Yeah.” 

“Y/n-”

“Don’t,” you warned, feeling emotion bubble to the surface and crack into your speech against your will. 

“I want to talk about it. I need you to talk about it with me.”

Stupid, perfect Donghyuck. You loathed the way that even after everything, after all this time, trouble and everything in between, he was somehow still everything you had ever wanted.

You kept your voice airy and as light as possible although your tongue felt heavier than it had ever been. “If you’d like, we can pretend like it never happened in the first place, just like we pretended we weren’t a thing.”

A thing. What a gross, unjustified oversimplification of what you had with him when you were younger, and cruel too, but you had no choice. You had spent every waking hour going over the possibilities, every outcome of the situation you had stumbled into and had come to a singular conclusion: you were going to get hurt.

Donghyuck stared at you in disbelief, getting to his feet and pacing around the room as if he was trying to create space between him and you to get away, but coming back moments later. “Don’t pin that on me. That was all you.”

A bitter laugh left you as you stood up, now face to face with him. The tension was arid, almost choking you, but his gaze had an even more adverse effect, cutting right through you like you were nothing at all and holding you accountable. He was so close to you, close enough to reach out and touch and kiss once again if you so wished.

But wishing for the unattainable was futile.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Futility be damned, you wanted another taste of what it felt like to be kissed by Lee Donghyuck already, having been stripped of that luxury without having any say in it all those years ago. Just like that, you were breathless and your thoughts scattered, the air between him and you turning electric.

God, you were so tempted to just give in and press your lips to his, but you knew you couldn’t, no matter how the way he was looking at you made you consider risking it all.

“Oh and what did you expect me to say? That it was wonderful she was dating my ex-boyfriend?”

And that's when you heard glass shatter.

You startled, taking a step away from Donghyuck immediately and your head snapping to the direction of the sound, only to find Yeonmi standing by the door. 

Two broken glass bottles of coke lay near her feet, their contents spilled and pooled around her shoes. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know- the disbelief in her eyes and agape mouth, those features laced with striking betrayal. In the heat of your argument with Donghyuck, you hadn’t heard the door open, neither had you heard your roommate enter, and you were certain that she had heard that last bit. 

Worse, she had seen the two of you like that. It didn’t matter how quickly you had retreated away from him. 

The scene was horrific in her eyes, and you could only imagine it from her perspective. The man she was dating and her roommate, someone she trusted and considered close, looked as if they were about to kiss each other right in front of her as if she didn’t exist in the first place.

“Yeonmi– I can explain–” You scrambled to try and piece together something that sounded plausible. 

“Explain what, exactly?” She asked quietly, staring at you like she had seen a ghost. You had never heard her speak with such hollowness and it scared you. “That you, the both of you, lied to me?” 

You had nothing to say to that because it was completely true. Everything about this was your fault and you could relate to the betrayal that she felt right then, you understood the hurt that she undoubtedly was experiencing right then.

“It makes sense now,” she said, tears springing to her eyes as she looked from you to him. “How you knew she knew so much about you, why you suddenly distanced yourself from me when I thought things were going well.” Donghyuck exhaled, looking at the ceiling and shutting his eyes. “You never really wanted me.”

“I’m sorry, Yeonmi.” 

You watched as tears made their way down your friend's face. You felt like a fraud for still referring to her as a friend when you had been anything but one to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed like her grief took over, only a choked sob leaving her. 

“I never want to see you again.”

And she turned around and walked out, storming into the hallway outside your apartment. You followed her out as quickly as possible in desperation, leaving Donghyuck behind. The yellow hallway felt intimidating all of a sudden, as if it was staring you down for the sins you had committed against your roommate. “Yeonmi, wait–”

She stopped outside the elevator and turned around to face you. “Why?” Her question felt like a sharpened rod prodding at your heart, or perhaps a knife driving through you and leaving you there to bleed out. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Your helplessness finally escaped you in a rush, your own tears gathering in your eyes. “I didn’t want to, I swear I never wanted to hurt you.” 

This was all wrong. You had never wanted to hurt someone else, you had never wanted to spread the pain you had carried with you all these years to her and had done everything in your power to avoid doing so. You had done everything you thought was right and yet here you were, having made a mess of it all anyway. 

“I never…” You trailed off, your voice failing you as your tears trickled down, stinging your skin with their heat. “I never meant for it to be like this. I’m so sorry.” 

“He’s your ex.”

You nodded miserably, burying your face in your hands and pressing your palms over your eyes hard. You let your hands slide into your hair, tugging in frustration before you gathered the courage to finally look at her again.

“A long time ago. We were kids.” 

“And you’re still in love with him.”

You didn’t bother answering that one because you knew it wasn’t a question, looking at your feet until your vision got blurry from all the tears, some of them dribbling down your chin and onto the thick carpet beneath your slippers, staining it a darker colour than it was. Of course you were in love with Donghyuck, but it had come in between her own falling for him and she, despite having done nothing wrong, had to suffer the consequences.

“Fuck,” she muttered, leaning against the wall. “You should have told me. I would have stopped seeing him immediately if I knew.”

This wasn’t groundbreaking news, you had inherently known this from the start. “I know.” 

“If you knew, then for fucks sake, why didn’t you tell me?” Her anger was warranted in every sense and ever scenario having to do with this, the force and outrage in her tone making you visibly flinch.

“Because,” you hesitated, before deciding that hiding anything more from her wouldn’t do you any good. “Because you were happy.”

She softened slightly at that. “But you weren’t, Y/n.”

“I hadn’t seen you that happy since…” You didn’t need to finish or mention her ex, you knew she understood. “I couldn’t bring myself to take that from you.”

She took a few steps towards you, failing to portray any malice now. “You ruined it anyways, and I think this is much worse.” Pity exuded off of her while she spoke to you, but just as quickly as you felt it, it was gone, replaced by the sheer magnitude of deception she felt. “You let me experience a false sense of happiness and consequently ruined it, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” 

You certainly didn’t expect her to. You didn’t even dare ask her for forgiveness, knowing that you didn’t deserve it at all. 

“But I can’t blame you for loving him. And I can’t blame him for being in love with you either because I can see it. It finally makes sense now.” She sighed in defeat, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I hate you.”

“I know.” 

“And I can’t be happy for you either, so I’m going to leave. I’ll stay over at Chaewons.”

You shook your head. “No, I should be the one who goes, you should stay at the apartment.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who deserves to have a friend to talk to, so I’m going to go.” You could tell how hard she was trying to remain calm, removing herself from the situation before she did anything stupid. She walked away from you and towards the elevator, calling it to your floor. You nodded, letting a defeated sigh escape your lungs.

“Okay. Drive safe. I’m sorry.” 

“I will.” Yeonmi stepped into the elevator and faced you one last time, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry too Y/n, because I never want to see you again either.”

xii] then.

You occupied one of the swings, humming an idle tune you had heard on the radio earlier that day while you looked through your phone. Currently, it was 7:15 p.m, fifteen minutes after Donghyuck had promised to meet you at the park. You didn’t think much of it though, since he was usually on time and would show up soon enough.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil.

You looked up from your scrolling to see him standing there a little away from you and smiled. He seemed out of breath as if he had run all the way here and his hair was tousled from the wind that blew, biting into your exposed skin. You realised you had left his jacket at home. 

“Hey you,” you hardly ever recognised the tone your cadence took on when it was directed towards him, and you couldn’t pinpoint when it switched to such transparent affection either, but you weren’t one to question such things. Your love for him was as sure as the cycle of the earth around the sun, an inevitable happenstance of fate. 

“I can’t stay for long,” he informed you regretfully, walking over and occupying the swing beside yours. “I have to be home earlier today.”

“That’s okay,” you checked the time. 7:17. “How early?”

He winced, “Eight technically, but I’m sure I can stretch it till eight-thirty.”

You waved this suggestion off, shaking your head. “Nah it’s fine, I don’t want you to get in trouble. We can talk while we walk home.”

“Okay.” He followed you out of the park and onto the streets. Still being winter, the days were short and the sky was already dark, the streetlights provided the pair of you with illumination, second to the moon peeking out from behind the clouds as if it was afraid to call the sky its own before its usual time. 

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you fell in step with him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “We can just hang out tomorrow.” The next day was a Sunday, which meant you had the entire day to yourselves if you so pleased.

His smile faltered slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.” 

You completely missed the uncertainty coating the word and the anxiety he felt right then, pulling him along with you as you walked. Teenage foolishness was truly a fool's paradise, your blissful unawareness blessing you with a bounce in your step and a worry free mind. Donghyuck meanwhile was struggling to keep up, his guilt making it feel as if his feet were heavier than ever, the knowledge he possessed and had effectively kept from you being the cause of his misery. 

So you talked about your day, the difficult question on your test that day and about Sakura’s progress with Yuta (which had been minimal at best, but you were proud of her nonetheless because at least now she could wave ‘hello’ to the boy). He listened to you chatter endlessly, the sound of your excited rambling distracting him from his troubles. There was never a moment he was bored when around you and he truly did love to listen to you talk. 

He’d miss that more than anything. He’d miss you more than anything he had ever had the chance to miss.

“Oh we’re here,” you stopped outside your house and turned to him, walking right into his arms for a quick goodbye hug, planting a chaste kiss upon his lips before you pulled away. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, watching as you began walking to your door. He already missed the feeling of your skin against his, wishing he had held you for a little bit longer. Was he already forgetting the taste of your kiss, even though you were only a few feet away from him?

“Y/n?”

You stopped and looked back at him, your smile visible in your eyes. “Yeah?”

He was leaving tonight. That was why he had to be home early, because it would be the last time he ever set foot in that house. Tonight he would be gone, and you still didn’t know a damn thing. It was too late to explain. That was his own doing and now he’d simply have to live with the guilt plaguing him for what would probably be the rest of his life. Every time he thought about you, it would attack him once more and push him underwater, holding him there until he ran out of breath. 

So he would have to settle for something small and manageable to quell his culpability, at least by a little. 

“I’m sorry.”

He knew that it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for everything. Two meagre words couldn’t do much at all and it wasn’t capable of fixing anything either, but it was the best he could do. His heart felt heavy, and he could feel his eyes sting with tears at the sight of your confused face at this, finally letting the unhappiness he felt crack through. “I’m so sorry.”

Concern bled into your features. “For what? Hyuck, are you okay?”

Donghyuck shook his head and blinked rapidly to stop himself from crying in front of you, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a step back. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just– see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you to eye his figure as it sauntered down the street and disappeared around the corner. He was confusing sometimes, switching from being happy to something entirely else within seconds. 

You opened the door and walked into your house as night fell.

The next day, he was late again. 

Usually he would pick you up on holidays before you went anywhere, but today he was nowhere to be seen. It was noon now, and you glanced outside your window, anticipating his car to pull into your lane any moment now.

You momentarily entertained the idea of him possibly forgetting. It did seem like he had a lot on his mind as of late, so you wouldn’t blame him if he had. The only issue was that he wasn’t texting you back, nor was he answering your calls and so you decided to stop waiting around for him to show up, opting to go over to his house instead.

The sky was cloudy that day, a chill in the air that had you remembering to pull on a jacket before you set out this time, the gravel beneath your feet crunching loudly in the silence of the afternoon. Most of the town took their midday nap on a Sunday such as this one, making it seem a lot quieter than it was.

So when you walked up to his door and noticed all the lights in the house seemed to be off, you didn’t think much of it, preparing to apologise for disturbing if his mother happened to answer as you rang the bell. 

No response.

You frowned, waiting a minute or so before ringing the bell again twice in succession. When nothing happened, you slipped your phone out of your pocket and clicked on his contact, holding it up to your ears. It didn’t ring at all, immediately playing a recorded message instead.

���This contact is temporarily out of service.’

Your intuition kicked in, telling you that something was inherently very wrong. Swallowing thickly, you tried ringing the bell one last time, louder than before.

“Y/n? What are you doing here sweetheart?”

You looked over to your right to see a lady in her fifties- a friend of your mothers- standing outside the neighbouring house, wrapped up in a robe. Embarrassment at causing a disturbance flared up inside of you as you rushed to explain yourself.

“I’m sorry Aunty, I just wanted to visit my friend Donghyuck.” You gestured toward the door to aid in your explanation, earning a perplexed look from her end.

“He’s not here anymore.”

There it was again, your intuition kicking you from the inside and clawing up, dread beginning to fill you. “I–I’m not sure I understand Aunty.” 

“They moved out sometime late last night, his mother had told me about it a month or so ago when she needed help fixing a hole in the wall to get her deposit back from their landlord. I had my husband help her– but that’s beside the point. They’re gone.”

The implication of the new information hadn’t quite registered yet, leaving you to stare at the lady, dumbfounded. “Gone,” you repeated under your breath. “Oh.”

“I thought you knew since you were such good friends with her son.” Friends. The word sounded bitter right then, because you had been so much more than that, but as you stood there and listened to your mothers friend talk, you wondered if you even qualified for that. Didn’t friends tell each other things? 

“Is everything okay, darling?” Why didn’t he tell you?

“It must have slipped my mind. I’m sorry for disturbing you Aunty.”

She waved it off, forgiving you easily and retreating back into her house. You stared at the door.

He couldn’t have been gone- it made no sense whatsoever. Just yesterday he had been by your side and had made plans to meet with you today. Why would he have done that if he was going to leave?

I’m sorry.

His cryptic words from the day before rushed back to you and you gasped to yourself when their magnitude finally hit you, causing you to stumble back and off of the landing of the house. He did know, he knew and had blatantly lied to your face without a second thought. Your mind went into overdrive as you tried to piece what had just happened together to form a coherent set of thoughts, failing miserably at doing so.

Two things were clear: Donghyuck was gone and you had no idea where or why. 

You tried calling him again, punching in his number into the dial pad almost furiously, willing him to pick up. When the same monotone message repeated itself, you cursed, accidentally dropping your phone onto the path you stood on in your frenzy.

“No, no, no, no” There was a certain manic quiver to your voice as you picked up the device, staring at his profile picture. It seemed to mock you now, the bright smile he sported in it that portrayed joy directly challenging the torrential downpour of agony that you were inflicted with, thus rendered utterly despaired.

Your boyfriend was gone, and he hadn’t bothered to tell you about it. 

The boy you loved, heck, the person you adored and meant the most to you in the entire world had left you without so much as a proper goodbye, leaving you behind to wonder why. You hadn’t the faintest idea where he could have been at that moment, just knowing that he wasn’t where he had promised he’d be and where you needed him most.

Hot tears spilled out of your eyes, catching onto your eyelashes and making it hard for you to see. You didn’t bother to stand back up, the asphalt beneath your knees digging into it harshly, no doubt going to leave a few minor cuts. The amount of questions you had were innumerable, each one crashing into the other until your head was full of incomprehensible nonsense that made it spin. 

It felt too normal for him to have been gone. The rest of the town functioned as normal and yet it felt as if your entire world had just been flipped upside down.

When Sakura and Chenle sat you down and asked you about what had happened when they found you sitting all alone in the park after skipping school a few days later, you left out the parts describing how you desperately tried ringing the bell a few more times afterwards. You didn’t tell them about how you had so hoped that it was an elaborate prank, nor did you go into detail about how many times you had called him, hoping and praying for him to pick up. 

The days melted into weeks without Donghyuck. 

You hated how it felt as if he was everywhere, having tainted all your favourite places and being the majority of your most beloved memories. You half expected him to walk out from around a corner and surprise you, taking you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

But hope is a foolish sentiment, especially hope fueled by naive teenage fallacies. The rose tinted glasses that had been worn by you for the months you had been with Donghyuck seemed to fade in their vitality, sucking out all the colour from your life until it felt as if you were left with a dull combination of greys and blue hues to paint the rest of your life with. You were missing the components that gave it warmth.

For you, Donghyuck was the sun, enigmatic, alluring and all too elusive. He was everything you could ever ask to have and yet just outside your reach, your fingertips barely brushing against it before it disappeared again. You quickly learned that you were the moon, waiting amidst the stars and hoping for those moments when both the sun and moon were painted across the same canvas of sky. 

That very sky had fractured into a kaleidoscope of colours when he left, leaving you to pick up the shards of your broken heart.

xiii] now.

You stood in the doorway of what used to be Yeonmi’s room, comparing it to how you remembered it looking before. The only thing left was the bedframe and an old cupboard, the rest of the room was bare.

She had moved out a couple days after the incident, leaving you alone in the apartment. You would have to look for another roommate or simply cover her part of the rent yourself considering you could afford to now with your promotion. Still, the silence was overwhelming, reminding you constantly of how easily you had ruined a friendship.

It seemed to be one of the core themes of your life- to experience debilitating loss over and over without having any time to prepare for the same.

The doorbell rang. 

Ungluing yourself from her former doorframe, you dragged yourself to the door and opened it, your eyes widening in question when it fell upon the person who stood there.

“Y/n."

Donghyuck stared back at you with those captivating eyes of his, pulling you into a trance of sorts instantaneously.  You forced yourself to snap out of it.

“What are you doing here?”

He combed his fingers through his hair, evidently agitated. “I didn’t know what else to do. You won’t answer my calls and I need to talk to you, even if you don’t want to.” 

You were so tired, the events that had transpired over the past few weeks crushing you beneath the weight of it all. Looking at him now, all you could do was weakly shake your head, a frantic sort of fear consuming you whole. 

“No,” you said, taking a step back. “I don’t not want to talk to you, I can’t.”

“Why?”

The question made you freeze in place, your feet rooted to the flooring of your apartment. Why? After everything that had transpired, it was for some reason much too hard for you to answer although the answer was at the forefront of your thoughts and on the tip of your tongue. Truthfully, you were afraid to sound it out, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convey it correctly.

When he left you eight years ago, you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him. He had taken away that possibility for you without ever considering if you’d want it, and gradually you grew used to silently harbouring ache that bloomed in your ribcage. 

It occurred to you then that the same was the reason he wanted to talk. Donghyuck had forced himself to cut you off in every way after he moved, following his own teenage justifications that told him it was for the best. Now, older and wiser, he knew not to repeat the misdeeds of his youth, but the very opposite notion had been instilled in you.

“Donghyuck,” you whispered his name, giving him a knowing look, one that was filled with so much sadness and despair that he could barely recognise you. Where was the ever-cheery girl he had fallen for?

Was he the cause for her disappearance?

If so, he promised himself he’d be the one to bring her back too. “Be with me.”

You gasped softly at his proposition, shaking your head furiously, “Are you insane?”

He simply nodded, taking a step closer towards you. “Yes. About you, I’ve always been insane about you.” Conviction hung onto every word, and perhaps if you were younger you would have swooned and run straight back into his arms. 

You missed your naivety, for life would have been so much easier with it. It was a boon, but now you were wary for the sake of your fragile heart. You could feel your teenage wistfulness rise to the surface as if it was trying to break out of the cage you had locked it in, doing its best to claw its way out and hand the rest of the pieces of your heart over to the man who had the missing bit you had been searching for all these years without him. 

But you knew better.

Instead, you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make him go away. “No, no, no.” It seemed to be the only word your tongue could form right then and so you repeated it over and over, clinging onto what it meant as if you were trying to convince yourself that you truly meant it. “I can’t be with you.”

“Yes, you can. You know you can.” His own desperation began to shine through, exposing his own years of heartache. He had waited so long for a moment like this. Every goddamn day since the day he had left you, he had regretted it, heartache permanently etched into his bones.

You snapped your eyes open, disbelief overtaking. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Be with me.”

“We just hurt Yeonmi,” you said, your words getting caught in your throat. Then, once again, your chagrin towards him glared up as you glared. “And that was because she happened to walk in on us talking. What if she had seen us kiss? Tell me, would we even be having this conversation if she hadn’t found us?”

“I…” He frowned and you scoffed. 

“Would you have ever broken it off with her?” Or would I have had to deal with our intertwined web of lies all by myself? The bitter thought lingered.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. “If you wanted that, I would have done it.”

“Of course I wanted it!” You blurted out, your fingers curling into the palm of your hand into a fist. “But I couldn’t want it, because she was my friend, Donghyuck. Even if you had broken it off, I still couldn’t do a damn thing.” 

He swallowed thickly, “I know, its fucked up, but I–”

“Yeah, fucked up. Too fucked up for me to even think about being with you.”

“But you have, haven’t you?” The question threw you off, and as if he had magically read your mind, he clarified, “You have thought about it.”

You froze, and your silence betrayed you immensely. There wasn’t a single lie you could have uttered in response that would have been convincing enough, not even to yourself. 

“I can do it this time,” he said so earnestly that it broke your heart all over again, his coffee-coloured eyes pleading with you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you again Y/n, I’m not a kid anymore. I can be here for you.” Promises fell from his mouth, sweet pledges and assurances that felt like balm to your wounded soul. 

But how were you supposed to trust the very person that had given you trust issues? 

How were you supposed to put those trust issues to the side and take him back with open arms without bruising your dignity any further? How were you to do it without falling apart?

Melancholy was a funny thing to have taken over you right then, self pity flooding your system, as well as pity for him. For so long, you had blamed him, but now that you took a step back and viewed your situation, you realised that you would have to do the very same thing he did so long ago.

The cyclical nature of life was pitilessly cruel, ravaging everything in its path no matter the case. It had brought you back to all you had ever known and wanted, all the while forcing you to let go, pulling the rug from under your feet without giving you the chance to find your footing. It had made him leave you and come back, only to have you walk away because of how wrong things were. 

Love found in dark, twisted places was never love that was meant to be nurtured. Love emerging from lies and deceit, situations that were impossible- it was love that would forever have to be left behind, no matter how pure it might have once been.

“I can’t love you.” 

“Y/n please-” 

“I’ve already hurt her, and if I love you again I’m going to hurt myself as well because I–I’m always the one that's left to sit and think about you. And it fucking hurts Donghyuck, it hurts.” You couldn’t believe him when he said he’d stay, because he had told you the very same thing all those years ago. You couldn’t be with him without guilt haunting your every move when you had so severely hurt Yeonmi due to your own agony.

You didn’t even realise you had started crying, tears cascading down your face. It was all so unfair, how something that had always been advertised as being simple had been anything but for you. Love had never once ended well for you, constantly picking you up and throwing you back down subsequently without giving you a moment to breathe.

Love was supposed to be the most beautiful thing in the entire world, so why was it so goddamn ugly? 

It crushed him to see you like this, so openly broken and yet guarded at the same time, your wall built up so high that he wasn’t sure he could ever break it back down again. He hated how it was him who always brought you to this point, and he tried to reach out to you to wipe away your tears, but you only flinched away from his touch. 

How the hell had you ended up like this? 

“Then tell me you don’t feel it.” He had to know. He needed to hear it from you.

Your lower lip quivered. “Feel what?”

God, you felt so much. Just looking at him was enough to stir up a surfeit of emotions that you hadn't the faintest clue how to handle, but one in particular overpowered the others, an ache emanating from your rib cage that was so potent, it exhausted you.

“Feel what you did when we were sixteen. Say it.”

Sixteen. You had felt so loved by another that barely understood the concept of it himself at the time, its meaning so completely untainted by the passage of time and complications that came. That innocence wasn’t to be found within you, but the remnants of it had grown and interwoven itself with what only he could bring out of you.

“I–”

“I’ll say it then, because goddamnit Y/n I love you.” The look on Donghyuck’s face ripped right through you. “I’ve always loved you, from the moment I saw you when we were teenagers. You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with and I know you love me too.”

It fucking hurt. You couldn’t understand how the only person in the world who understood you so completely and saw right through everything you were was the one person you couldn’t let yourself be with. It was Donghyuck who used to notice even a slight switch in your mood when you were upset and it was him who would cheer you up the best he could. It was him who used to let you ramble on into the late of night and text you into the wee hours of the morning and him who now naturally gravitated towards you, just as you did to him. It was his jacket that you still had buried somewhere in your closet from all those years ago, with you unable to let go of it no matter how hard you tried. 

Even now when you had only reunited for a bitterly short period of time, he was still the one who intrinsically knew every part of you. He knew you loved him still.

You inhaled sharply, noticing the red tint to the white of his eyes, realising that he too was struggling to keep himself together right then. Shaking your head slowly, you moved closer towards his figure, touching his face gently and cupping it between your palms, searching his eyes intently.

“I love you.”

He shut his eyes the moment you said it, tears slipping down and catching on your fingertips as you brushed them away. 

“But even you know we can’t be together.”

The world had ripped the two of you away from each other once, and you had to trust that there was a reason for it. You knew you couldn’t let yourself go back because it was simply not meant to be with the circumstances and cards life had dealt you.

You loved Donghyuck- fuck, you loved him more than you thought was possible, and it still wasn’t enough. Neither of you could communicate through anything and shit was a hell of a lot more complicated than it was when you were just teenagers. He was right, he wasn’t a kid anymore and neither were you, but too much had happened. The timing was never right for him and you, there was always one thing or the other standing in the way, and the repercussions of everything was too much for you to simply put in the past, making the two of you something that would never work.

“I know.” 

The syllables left his lips so brokenly that you instinctively had the urge to somehow fix him- whatever part of him that was fractured. The front he had been parading around, the false sense of confidence that he had pretended to have about you had finally collapsed, leaving him with a truth he hadn’t come to terms with just yet. The resignation he possessed broke you further, and you pressed your lips to his firmly, trying to mend your fragmented souls.

But it was fruitless. This was a brokenness that you would have to learn to live with until time bandaged your matching wounds, dulling it down into what would one day just be the thought of how terribly it burned. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

Disentangling himself from you, he stepped outside of your apartment and looked at you, imagining you once again the way he had first met you. 

“I love you too.”

It was ironic, how words could mean something entirely different to what they were, how seemingly unrelated sentences were connected, a confession of affection serving the same purpose as a final farewell. Goodbyes of such permanence were merciless things and so when presented with one so absolutely brutal, he couldn’t help but think about the beginning, from the very first hello that passed between him and you. 

I love you. The very last time you’d ever hear it from him.

Those fragile, lovely rose tinted glasses you wore in your youth had snapped a long time ago, and you could see everything for what it was.

And now, he could too.

Time was said to heal all wounds, but only if it was a wound that was ready to be healed.

Everything about Donghyuck and you was unfinished back then, the millions of questions you had haunting your every move ever since it had so abruptly ended. For eight years that wound had been left wide open and time had only assisted in letting it fester, burying its memory deep within your psyche.

But time also brought wisdom in its stride. 

You picked up the mail your new roommate had left on your coffee table, shifting through the pile until you found the envelopes with your name on them. Leaving the rest behind, you made your way to your room, sighing in relief at finally being back in your comfort space.

Sitting atop your bed, you began opening each envelope. A letter from your grandmother who refused to learn how to send you a text, a card from an aunt and a few bills- the usual collection, but one stood out from the rest. The sender's address was entirely unfamiliar to you, and you frowned lightly, carefully tearing open the top and tipping out its contents.

A soft gasp escaped your lips.

Right there on your lap lay two tickets to Lee Jieun’s upcoming concert.

As if you were afraid that they would disintegrate, you gently picked them up and inspected them, in utter disbelief at the fact that you were holding them. You had failed to get tickets of your own when you had tried and yet here you were with not one, but two of them in your grasp- and they were the expensive kind, the ones where you had access to go backstage and meet the artists as well. 

For a moment you entertained the possibility of this being a mistake, but then you stopped your train of thought when it slammed head first into the only explanation as to how they had gotten here.

A small, wistful smile crept up upon you as you glanced back at the envelope, noticing a small piece of paper still inside. Taking it out, a breathless chuckle was all you managed after reading what it said.

‘Thought I’d at least keep this promise. – L.D’

Suddenly, you were taken back to that cafe where you had the conversation with Donghyuck. You hadn’t stepped foot in there since the last time you saw him- over two months ago when you knew it was over. 

Sometimes, a story doesn’t have to have an ending to be finished. 

You knew that a part of you would always love Donghyuck due to the ephemeral, innocent nature of the young love you had for him that had been ingrained within you. You had made your peace knowing that the two of you were something written into the world to die out eventually, something that you had to let go of even if it made no sense to you.

It was apparent that this was a love that could never truly be yours, as magnificent as it seemed it had never been yours to begin with in the first place. It was a mishmash of bad timing and rash teenage decisions mixed in with that sort of hopelessness you only found in the blissful oblivion of adolescence. You could wish and want a million things, but at the end of the day, now and then, some things were simply not meant to be.

The love between the two of you was something you were never supposed to claim, time and time again slipping through your fingers, and yet you still grieved for its loss.

But grief could be overcome. You shut your eyes, imagining his cheeky smile and fond eyes, the way he’d look at you while you were talking and all the pretty, empty promises he had made. All the talks of the future that had always been fractured for the two of you and moments of tenderness.

For once, you didn’t just picture him apologising to you over and over again, that ache having finally dulled out.

And when you opened your eyes, you didn’t feel sixteen anymore, instead you felt as if time had passed almost too quickly and reality was finally catching up. You felt older, properly this time, and much more experienced. 

Donghyuck had been your first love at the tender age of sixteen, the cause of your flushed cheeks and racing heart; affectionate, shy smiles and chaste kisses underneath streetlights. He had been the torrential downpour of rain upon a stormy sea, as violent as it was beautiful. All you felt about him had only ever been intense in nature, your youthfulness unable to process them in any other way. Now, looking back, perhaps there were several things you would have done differently, and maybe some you wouldn’t have done at all.

You would remember it all, every single detail of course, but when you thought about Donghyuck, you’d think about all the good. You’d remember laughing out over him singing along to your favourite songs on the radio while aimlessly driving around town, the late night conversations you’d sneak out together to have and the ice cream you’d share on hotter summer days. You’d think about his infectious laugh and the way he always managed to make you happy, the way he’d take care of you when you were sick and kiss your forehead goodbye each and every time. How your hand would perfectly fit in his, fingers intertwined and clasped together tight, how he’d whisper the three words that you so cherished back then at the most unexpected of times. You’d remember the love that was very real and very much lost and its seemingly magical, wild nature that you doubted you’d ever find again. 

You’d remember sixteen.

fin.

[alpaca-clouds]

Travel is good, tourism isn't

I said in the blog yesterday, that I think travel is good, but tourism isn't. So, let me explain this. And I will put this here first: I am going to explain it on the example of Japan, because I know the most about what is happening there in terms of travel and tourism - and what issues arise from it.

See, I do think travelling to foreign places (whatever that means for you) is a good thing. Experiencing other cultures and interacting people who due to their culture have a very different outlook on life and the world is a good thing. Not only to move away from a certain worldview (which for white people tends to be an eurocentric one, and for Americans an US-centric one), it also fosters empathy to other people.

And I think of this dramatic thing especially when it comes to Americans travelling, who due to their lacking education system often do know jack shit about the rest of the world.

However: I do both think that the thing we right now call tourism does not really help, but actually does hinder this - and is harmful in many other ways.

Right now, foreign tourists are no longer allowed in Gion, the Geisha quarter of Kyoto. The reason for it is, that too many of them were fucking disrespectful. Some made photos of the Geisha without asking, some even touched the kimono and the hair of the Geisha. Some even got angry and started arguing, when people told them to not do this.

Especially when it comes to Kyoto I can think of a variet of other examples. People have carved their names into temples. People touched things that are not supposed to be touched (like idols). People otherwise behaved inappropriately, for example towards kannushi and mikos. Folks have bathed their feet in pools meant for ritual cleansing. There are a lot of examples of this.

And I think part of this goes back to two things. For one again eurocentrism and the way, that a lot of especially white folks to not perceive other cultures as real. But also, and maybe more importantly, the mindset that: "I have paid $1500 for this trip and I get to very well do what I want." The different culture in this mindset gets treated like a themepark, not as a place filled with real people, rather than performers there to enhance the tourist's experience.

Meanwhile the tourists generally are not really interested to interact with the other culture further than that. Which is also, why they tend to flock to the same few places, to all go make their own photo of the same place that a million people have photographed before - as compared to going exploring in a foreign place.

And in some cases - like Kyoto - this also leads to the fact that the local people often get pushed out of the places they actually live in.

A lot of people will often say: "Yeah, but it is great for their economy." Which... leaving my capitalism-hating-ideation aside for a moment... Well, actually it is not good and COVID showed us. Because it makes the economy totally depedent on tourism. In places that are heavily dependent on tourism, the sudden complete anihilation of tourism with the pandemic pushed those places further into a crisis than anywhere else. Heck, keeping it with Kyoto: Given a lot of folks had jobs related to the tourism industry and there were in fact not many other jobs, a lot of people found themselves forced to move away from Kyoto during the pandemic.

So while the entire "but economy" thing will seem true on a short term, it actually is not on the long term.

And that is without going into the environmental impact that comes from a lot of people flocking to certain places. This is shown especially in areas, where folks go for "nature", destroying nature while they do so. Because nature just cannot handle thousands upon thousands of people travelling through.

So, what do I mean with "travel, instead of tourism"? Well, frankly: Yes, you still go to other places. But - to keep with Japan - instead of going to Kyoto you might go to Morigushi or Beppo, and instead of touring from one temple and shrine to the next, you will just interact with the places and explore them. To actually experience them, rather than some preconscieved notion of what it is supposed to be. And you interact with the people.

And you learn. Because we all just need to learn about different people, different cultures and different places. Rather than just consuming them.

[blackmosscupcakes]

I'm fascinated by how this arc of The Wizard the Witch and the Wild One has really flipped the narrative on who's in the right and wrong compared to the first arc, because the key thing is NONE OF THEM are acting differently than they did then--they're all acting incredibly true to character traits that were established from the get go--the only thing that's changed is the surroundings and the context of the backdrop around them.

Out in the world, among ordinary people, Suvi often came across as imperial-minded, deeply indoctrinated, and carrying a feeling of being superior to those who weren't of the citadel. Her feelings and actions were understandable, but the reaction of the audience was often to read her as being overly hostile to the other two and determined to cleave to the Citadel and the beliefs of her upbringing to a degree that was detrimental to their task.

Ame and Eursulon showed a willingness to go off half-cocked and act impulsively based on their feelings in the first arc just as they did in this latest episode, but in the context of the wider world this often came across as deep empathy with ordinary people and spirits and a sense of responsibility to deeper matters beyond the politics of humans. Sure, their actions were a bit reckless and had some negative consequences, but they were acting with their hearts and for the right reasons and everyone was down for Quest Fever!

And then last night we see exactly the same dynamic play out once again--Suvi trying to balance the needs of her adoptive mother and her home and the entire institution in which she grew up against the needs of her friends, while her friends run off and literally blow up the Citadel's shit in absolute defiance of everything Suvi was raised to believe. Now, standing there alone and reeling from a curse as her friends tear off leaving destruction in their wake, she seems understandably hurt, as well as obedient, measured, restrained, sensible, if perhaps a little too blindly trusting in Citadel processes*. And likewise, amidst the context of seeing how the Citadel runs and how generally well it's treated Ame and Eursulon, the two of them seemed reckless, ungrateful, disrespectful, and short-sighted with an unwillingness to play along with the realpolitik of going through the proper channels. Instead they (quite literally) burned important bridges and damaged Suvi's life in the process (though it's also understandable that in light of the revelations about Eursulon's sister they rightly felt unsafe even if Steel was understanding).

It's fascinating how incredibly similar the climactic sequences from these two arcs have been. The characters have followed their natures and it's led them down exactly the same path twice in a row. But the context surrounding their actions is VERY different this time, and each mirrors and recontextualizes the OTHER occurrence. People were largely on Ame and Eursulon's side last time, and they're largely seeing Suvi's side this time. It's been a really complex ethical and practical tangle to navigate both times (and good on Brennan for setting it up that way), but I feel like seeing the two together helps us understand and respond to ALL of the characters in a better way than just having one of these situations would have. It's been really cool to watch, and I've been absolutely loving reading all the thoughts and opinions from people on every side of it. It's already been some of the best fandom discussion I've seen about a TTRPG show.

*I read an interesting perspective from someone who believed they would have had to escape even if they'd trusted Steel, as she already went from "meet me at this time" to "give me more time to talk to the diviners" and they thought she would have continued to delay and delay in order to check all of the Citadel's bureaucratic boxes--I'm not sure whether that's what would have happened but it's an interesting possibility, and one that prevents Steel being used as basically a deus ex machina powerful ally any time they're in trouble.

[pokegyns]

the way that baeddelism & antitransmasculinity permeates & slips through every corner of the trans community and nobody does anything about it because transfems are this Protected UwU Baby Girls™ is actually so sickening. i’m tired of seeing literal baeddels getting away with saying shit like “men are oppressive. but by men we do not mean just cis males we mean trans men too! they are also men!” like. “validating” my gender identity only to dehumanize me & throw “tme” at me in a demeaning manner is not progressive at all. i am not “privileged” for being transmasc & i am not violent or abusive or powerful or capable of systemically harming trans women. i am not simply oppressed on the basis of being trans, i am quite literally, quite factually oppressed for being a trans man– i am oppressed for being a person of the female sex, and doubly so for being a person of the female sex who misaligns with cisheteropatriarchal ideals & inherently goes against what the cisheteropatriarchy has set upon me. i was punished & shamed for being gnc during my childhood, for being gnc in the way that female people are gnc. i wasn’t seen as a feminine boy, i was seen as a masculine girl, and i lived the childhood of a masculine girl. i went through all the hardships cis girls did, and i also experienced a subset of misogyny that specifically targets masculine & gnc girls– antitransmasculinity. i was punished for not fitting in with the cishet norms, for being autistic & not understanding gender roles, for not liking boys, for being the “strange odd girl”…

when i learned what dysphoria was & began identifying as trans, i did not suddenly gain male privilege overnight. saying that transmascs are a category of marginalized men might seem like a harmless statement, but it is often used for erasure & furthering transmasc invisibility, violent invisibility. it might “gender us properly”, but saying we are a category of marginalized men often fails to fully encompass the factual reality that we aren’t seen as men. we aren’t marginalized just for being trans, we are marginalized for being female & for being transmasc. our oppression more aligns with the way that lesbians, especially gnc ones, are oppressed, than it does with the way that any other category of marginalized men are oppressed.

telling transmascs that we “need to make sure everyone else around us is comfortable” & that we “should pander to the women around us” literally reeks of this specific type of misogyny that targets us. the way that the trans community tends to treat us as “just queer men” & quite literally erase the fact that we are trans, is rooted in deep misunderstandings of lesbophobia, antitransmasculinity, misogyny & gncphobia. when we are punished for being gnc during our childhoods, we aren’t punished for wearing dresses & liking make-up– we are punished for not doing that. when we are punished for not being opposite-sex attracted (i know not all transmascs are same-sex attracted, it’s just that a lot of trans people in general do tend to be ssa), we aren’t punished for liking boys/men, we are punished for liking girls/women. in what world are regular men punished for liking women? in what world are regular men punished for not being feminine? antitransmasculinity in the trans community either malgenders us & paints us just as capable of perpetrating misogyny as cis men are (even when we aren’t even out, apparently it’s ingrained in us– does that smell of gender essentialism???), or it straight up attacks us on the basis of our observed sex without even trying to hide it– see “afab privilege”, “theyfab”, “tme” (not necessarily inherently bad, but the way in which it is used is bad), “trans guys need to be subservient & quiet”, literal fetish accounts made by transfems who openly misgender us & talk about “detransition kink”… it all goes back to the good ol’ “shut up and let the smart people speak”.

this is not the way that normie men, even normie marginalized men, are treated. the crowd that malgenders us & expects us to be okay with their little “kam includes trans men!”, “all men are bad! including trans men!”, “trans men’s gender identity harms trans women!” comments because they’re “affirming” us… no. shut up. i do not care about being “affirmed” if the way you are “affirming” me is dehumanizing. transmascs do not have the systemic power to oppress neither cis, nor trans women.

the baeddel belief system, that misogyny is born out of transmisogyny (& not the other way around, at the very least), is also so fucking wild and insane. transfems refusing to accept that they’ve generally been male socialized & that they were punished for being gnc in the way that they misaligned with the cisheteropatriarchal ideals for being seen as feminine boys & not for being seen as masculine girls is one thing– dysphoria can take a massive toll on your beliefs, and i get being uncomfortable with the whole gender socialization theory (although it is legitimate, even if some people do use it maliciously), but it is another thing to firmly claim you weren’t under any circumstance ever treated as a boy at one point (then are you denying transphobia exists?? what???), but at the same time, transmascs absolutely were socialized female & we have this nonexistent “afab privilege”, BUT we’re also evil men who hate & oppress women of all sorts. but god forbid we ever enter women’s spaces or connect with women in any way, especially not with lesbians. we have no right to those spaces, and we are “invading” women’s spaces even if we do not pass– but non-passing trans women who are literally hypermasc & would look like the average normie guy if people didn’t know their gender identity (i’m not talking about masc passing transfems, transfems def can both pass as women & be masc) are free to call themselves lesbians & enter women’s spaces, and we are evil and bigoted if we say that’s dumb as fuck. we cannot ever connect with lesbians or, i apologize for the heresy, do the vilest sin humanity has ever seen & even call ourselves lesbians. we are hurting lesbians! we are totally capable of harming cis lesbians, because we totally yield systemic power over them, even if we do not pass at all. the trans woman whose lesbianism is fully dependent on her inner identity is more free to enter lesbian spaces & her lesbianism is more valid than mine, a visibly gnc transmasc butch’s who-is-not-out-as-trans. the trans woman who didn’t even experience transmisogyny growing up & wasn’t ever even gnc at any point in her life, is somehow more valid to call herself a lesbian, than i, a person whose childhood was practically made of antitransmasculinity & lesbophobia, am.

baeddel ideology is inconsistent. they either use radfem talking points but flip them all the way around & turn them upside down, so trans men are now as evil and abusive as cis men & oppressive to both cis & trans women & the entire reality of us being assigned female is erased, or they straight up attack us based on the very fact that we are assigned female & treat us as if we are not Truly Trans. either way, we are never acknowledged as trans. the former sees us as “just guys” (but keep in mind that crowd never uplifts us & babies us in the way they do to cis men, so again we aren’t even really seen as guys), and the latter sees us as “stupid theyfab ftms tmes” “who aren’t really trans”. in simple words, the former sees us as cis guys undeserving of male privilege (but still claiming we somehow have it), and the latter sees us as cis girls undeserving of cis privilege. baeddelism was designed to harm transmascs, and while it can also do harm to cis women (with the whole misogyny part of it), it specifically harms transmascs & even just gnc cis women. it deeply hurts me when i realize that these sort of people are out there dating trans men & transmascs. some of them even actually do the next step & start with physical abuse. it makes me so incredibly sad. i will never shut up about antitransmasculinity, no matter what.

– mod zoroark

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother (who I assume you now know is Lucrecia, NOT Jenova), and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

[lemmeurs]

okay. here is my 1600+ words essay on raphael. if anyone would like to adress anything from it, please do but keep it civil! i am so damn invested in this topic, i wanna hear everyone's thoughts

raphael rant

(DISCLAIMER: this essay was not written in order to justify Raphael as a character or any of his actions or intentions. i am completely skipping any point of morality, whether my own or just in general, i simply wanted to somehow try and write my feelings and thoughts down while looking at the whole thing from an objective point of view, analyzing the design of the game, the plotline and his whole persona and just.. idk i wanted to see whether anyone else felt the way i do because i have been going INSANE over this for the past few days)

hi. i have come here today to express my thoughts and feelings on Raphael the cambion and "his final act". this is being randomly and spontaneously written in my notes app so please excuse the absolute chaos that this essay will be (no i won't be rereading it, fuck it we ball) (CONTAINS BG3 ACT III SPOILERS!!)

first of all — i am so beyond devastated that he gets killed. and not just by anyone, he gets killed BY US. THE PLAYER. WE AS THE PLAYER DELIVER THE FINAL BLOW THAT ENDS HIS EXISTENCE. not only is that very upsetting (because come on, hot devil man, obviously i don't wanna kill him??) but it also makes me feel so.. awful. like, everything about this is wrong and i hate the fact that there is no other option.

because let's review the course of the story in the house of hope:

- we barge into his house unannounced, uninvited, while he is absent

- we invade his privacy by entering what's his own personal space (yes, i know he stole it from Hope in the first place but that is not the point here — whatever his devil business is, it's still HIS, you know?? like he is a devil, this is the kinda stuff they do and honestly? i didn't want to stick my nose into it. but obviously i did because tHe sToRy etc etc. but still, it was his own thing that basically doesn't affect the player in any way so TECHNICALLY you dont have to free Hope. you can, if your character's moral compass advises so, but it doesn't affect the main plot.)

- we then proceed to walk around his house freely, lie to his archivist in order to look at the stuff we're already planning to steal

- we meet his personal incubus whom then we have the chance to either use or kill (i fought Haarlep so that's the point of view i'm looking from at this here, in which case i also robbed their corpse) and we rob his safe. and his whole bedroom actually. we read his journals. we use his bath.

- then obviously we go and rob his entire archive which includes all of his most precious possessions

- upon stealing, we slaughter every single creature in his house, fighting our way through to get to Hope's prison

- we then kill the two spectators he has guarding her (they were probably super hard to obtain??) and we just. free his prisoner. because yeah, that is the right thing to do, IM NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG, but let's say we skip morality for a second, let's just focus on the fact that we have no ulterior motives in freeing Hope. we just wanna mess with HIS business because why not since we're already ruining all of his plans.

- and then we have the audacity to try to leave before he comes back and act like we were never there while his entire house is turned to shit.

now let's look at this list again but this time keep in mind the fact that at that point, he hasn't done A SINGLE THING to us. like, he has never harmed us, he treated us with (let's call it) "respect" and politeness, he was fine with our hesitation towards his deal and was willing to give us time. he was never aggressive towards us, he was never "the enemy".

and now you can say - okay wtf is wrong with you, that man literally admitted his intention of conquering the worlds, enslaving all mortals and basically becoming the tyrant of all while also most likely stealing everyone's souls for his own pleasure.

yes, he did, and yes, that's bad. but just because those were his intentions does not give us the right to do all that shit to him AND THEN KILL HIM. AS IF WE HAD THE RIGHT TO SERVE JUSTICE HERE?? YEAH HIS PLANS ARE EVIL BUT IT IS NOT UP TO US TO DICTATE HIS CONSEQUENCES. HIS PLANS WOULD ONLY SUCCEED IF WE GAVE HIM THE CROWN IN THE END, SO JUST- DON'T?? LIKE DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. IM NOT TRYING TO JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS OR INTENTIONS, BY ALL MEANS. i'm just trying to express how weird this all made me feel because not everyone decides to play as the selfless, lawfully good hero of all, protecting the world from all evil, ever! this is roleplay, afterall!

and them obviously he comes home. he is furious, as he should be. but mostly he's betrayed because, as weird as it may be, he trusted us. he admitted to growing "quite fond of us, in his own way". he thought we were some weird sort of.. acquaintances? friends maybe? (again, i know most of our relationship with him is mostly just him manipulating us but still, it's quite clear he wasn't expecting this betrayal) and we just barged in there and disrespected him in the worst way possible. so obviously he wants to kill us now and obviously we can kill him since he's just a boss in a game. and that's what we do. and then.. that's it. we're the good guys. we ruined a man's whole career because we needed one of his toys, murdered him in his own house and just left. and we're supposed to be the good guys.

i think the source of my problem is that Raphael is never introduced as evil. we don't meet him as the big bad villain that we know we'll have to kill at some point. i swear to god, at the beginning of act 3 i trusted that man way more than i trusted the Emperor and i was so close to agreeing to his deal just because i felt like i could trust him and he would keep me safe (for some reason, let's blame it on those wonderful eyes of his).

we meet him so early on in the game and he follows through all 3 acts, making it feel like he's gonna be some key character that will matter in the end - turns out, no! we were just supposed to rob and kill him. and that's literally it. talk about wasted potential.

when i first met him i got the "unofficial narrator" vibes from him, as if he was only supposed to seem intimidating and "evil" but you could sense there was so much more to him and i was dying to see how his story would unwrap. i was so ready for a redemption act, a plot twist, anything. man was i disappointed. because how cool would it be if he turned out to be a part of the "gather your allies" quest?? imagine having him as an ally and an ACTUAL friend in the end??

and don't even GET ME STARTED on what the orb in Helsik's shop shows you after you kill him. the fact that he's not even dead yet but ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED BY MEPHISTOPHELES. ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED. BY HIS FATHER. HE. WHAT. THATS THE ENDING HE GETS. and we are the ones that served it to him when he got RIGHTFULLY pissed at us for doing all that shit to him. and im supposed to just be fine with it?? i'm supposed to feel like this was the ending he deserved and i did the right thing??

god what i would give for a different way. idk. striking a new deal with him. saving him from Mephistopheles afterwards. REDEMPTION ARC?? ANYTHING?? NO? THATS IT THEN?

now i know that you dont HAVE to kill him, you can either agree to his deal or just ignore him and the house of hope altogether. but that just defeats the whole purpose of this character?? agreeing to his deal and giving him the crown at the end results in a pretty bad ending and ignoring him means that yeah, you don't have to kill him but you also don't get anything else from him anymore. like he has no other endings, just either death or his big evil plans. and for a game with so many choices and so much branching, it just feels almost weird that that's all he is there for. then why do we meet him in act 1? why does he follow through to act 2? (yeah, astarion, i know, but i cant help but feel like they could have put a completely different way to read his runes there if they didnt want Raphael specifically to help us) WHY ARE WE ALREADY SO USED TO HIM BY THE TIME HE PRESENTS HIS DEAL? if the whole hammer business is the only thing he's in the game for, then we may have as well been introduced to him only in act 3 during the whole Voss quest. but we knew him already and he felt like some sort of a.. friend lets call it? idk. this just does not make sense to me and makes me genuinely so sad.

as i'm writing this, it's the third day after ive completed the house of hope and i literally can not think about anything else. like my mind is just going on and on about this and i cant get over it!! im actually GRIEVING a fictional devil and i dont know what to do with all these.. thoughts.

so now i actually genuinely MISS THAT MF. I MISS HIM. GIVE HIM BACK. I WASN'T DONE AND NEITHER WAS HE. PLEASE PLEASE LARIAN I CAN FIX HIM—

okay i think thats it for now. idk i wrote this so chaotically i already forgot what i said and didnt say. im just. im feeling so many things. im so fucking sad and mad that this is how it ends. rest in peace hot devil man i will never forget you.

[guardianspirits13]

Trolls worldbuilding questions

Forgive me for this but I am thinking way too hard about the logic of this kid’s movie

How big is their world? The pop trolls live in a whole village and were ignorant of trolls from other genres, but all of the trolls seem to live within the same general area??

Where are the bergens native to? The first movie implies (maybe?) that they weren't around when Branch's brothers left him, so where *did* they come from?

Are there any rules to define sentient and non-sentient species? We see a lot of plant/bug creatures that are treated like animals, but there doesn't seem to be a fine line when we consider that Mr. Dinkles talks, maybe they can be taught to do so by civilization?

Are there any other significant species beside Trolls, Bergens, Muppets, and Mount Rageons?

What is up with food in this universe?? Based on the first two movies, it would have been a fair assumption to say that Trolls only eat sugar and candy... the Bergens have a whole bunch of troll recipes but minus the trolls they look pretty normal. When Crimp is demonstrating her "smoothie extractor" all of the fruits she uses are candy. Similarly, the nachos seen on Vacay island look like glass, and the drinks are made of orbeez. The Putt-Putt trolls have normal looking fries, but that checks out since they are bergen fries and not troll fries. Branch also goes into detail about his breakfast which sounds very... normal?? Either he eats differently than the other trolls and prefers less sweet foods, or he had some candy-esque 'troll' version of them. This is the same universe in whice Cooper shit out presumably edible cupcakes, so I really don't know what to say to that

Speaking of which, do the trolls even need to eat?? Floyd was presumably stuck in that perfume bottle for two months, and I doubt Velvet or Veneer would have cared about feeding him. Maybe trolls that are derived of color like Branch need to supplement their diet with nutrients, while other trolls subsist off of happiness and only eat sugar for fun?

[ladyshinga]

i think actually my most isolating-feeling 'tism aspect is that i keep caring about shit after the neurotypicals get bored. god forbid i still talk about covid in 2024. god forbid i won't shut up about how machine-generated plagiarism images are bad actually (and the voices thing, jesus), god forbid i still talk about political things that aren't shiny and new anymore. and this isn't me going "how dare my friends not still post about this stuff", it's how they react when I do. it's being told i'm dramatic, overblowing things, that this is "just how things are now, deal with it", like... neurotypicals roast us for hating change, but they refuse to even NOTICE change, they don't QUESTION change. covid SHOULD have changed the world, it SHOULD have led to more people believing in science, masking in public, vaccinating. It didn't because they shrug it off with "well this is how the world is now", and won't adapt. people get pissy about spotting machine images, "well why does it matter? this is the world now, cope with it, AI art is the new world" but won't learn how it works. won't educate themselves on the environmental issues with AI, won't even try to understand how it works. just look at the world and shrug and go "so? doesn't mean i ever have to change how i treat people or how i live my day to day"

like, how am I the one resistant to "change"? i feel like the only one still screaming about the changes we desperately need, and tired of being told i'm dramatic and overreacting and "clinging to the past"

[chubs-deuce]

Hello!!! Love love LOVE your Charlastor and Hazbin artwork; your art is amazing!!

I have a feww questions if you’re comfortable with answering them (no worries if not) :D

I love hearing people’s music recommendations, so I was wondering if you listen to music whilst you draw and if there’s any songs in particular that make you think of the characters and/or the ship?

Also, I get a bit nervous posting about Charlastor because of some of the hate it gets in the fandom and because some of my irl classmates who follow me don’t like the ship (and don’t know I like it), so I was wondering what your general mindset is when you post your art online, but also what your mindset is like when posting Charlastor art, knowing what the fandom can be like?

Finallyy, I wanted to ask if you’ve read Under My Skin by whamagram on AO3 and if you have, what are your thoughts on it? It’s a mature slowburn Radiobelle fic and only has a few chapters out so far, but it’s updated pretty regularly and has become my new favourite at the moment! I highly highly recommend it because it’s super well-written, really witty, and really understands the characters. It’s all about Charlie nursing Alastor back to health after the final battle in season 1 and it’s just so well done!!

Again, just want to say that I really really love your work and thank you for sharing it! I especially love how you draw expressions and the way you draw characters and their emotions feels so real. Seeing your illustrations inspires me to keep practicing with my own art!

Omg thank you so much for this lovely ask?!!

I'd be more than happy to answer all of these actually! :D

I am, in fact, the kind of person who looooves finding songs that fit certain characters or ships and make whole playlists over time if I find enough of them, so here's some that made me think of Charlastor (links are all spotify):

- Glass Piano, by Kathleen

- Daisy Bell, and specifically this scuffed computer sung version bc it hits better

- bored like me, by dodie

- Ended with the Night, by Caravan Palace

- I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire, by The Ink Spots

- I Can't Decide, by Scissor Sisters

I have yet to really find more songs specific to the characters as individuals tho lol

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As for your next question...

This isn't my first rodeo in the unpopular non-canon het presenting ship club, so there's a few things I like to remind myself of when I feel that people pleaser anxiety sneaking up on me:

1)

if people truly wanted to avoid content of the ship, they'd block the tags. Maybe kindly ask your friend to block the charlastor and radiobelle tags bc you want to post about them? This way they're not forced to see what they dislike and you get to have your harmless fun. If they're opposed to this, question why. It's not your job to curate *their* online experience, they do have all the necessary tools at their disposal.

2)

I consider the source material like a toy box. You can play with the dolls in it like the packaging intended for you to, but there's no rules dictating that you can't play *your* way if that's more fun to you.

Canon is in my eyes the preferred suggestion, but not the law - don't we all just smush the heads of dolls together making kissy noises in our minds at the end of the day?

A lot of people sadly treat shipping like it's a battle for author validation, when in reality it was always just a way to playing with hypotheticals and exploring the world and characters canon offered us in new and interesting ways... I hate the attitude some people have about canonicity. Imo, as long as you're not acting like your non-canon ship should be canon and shit on other ships in the process, you're not doing any harm.

Now... Canon sexualities and having contrary headcanons are a tricky road to travel because there's so much emotional investment in the canon representation of often overlooked or mishandled minority groups, and this is the biggest anti argument I've seen get thrown around, since Charlastor as a ship not only splits up the canon lesbian pairing, but also alters Alastor's canon sexuality to make the ship work.

What's important here is that you handle it respectfully - i.e. don't be a dick and go around acting like your preferred ideas are better and should be canon or whatever. Attitude is important, respect canon for what it is and embrace the fact that your ship is not. It's not a detriment! It just means we have to make all of our own content lol.

I personally headcanon Alastor as demisexual/demiromantic not only because it still fits under the aspec umbrella, but also because I myself am both of those things and enjoy messing with the characters and narrative using a dynamic I have a lot of personal experience with! It's fun to hit someone as haughty and stubbornly emotionally detached as Alastor with a flurry of unexpected, unwanted feelings and struggling to navigate them.

Do I want that to be canon? Absolutely not! I'm just having fun with my imaginative toys in my own corner of the internet lol.

Also for the record, I think Chaggie is cute and they should absolutely stay together, I just don't find them interesting enough to explore further in the realm of fanfiction and art :'D

Ultimately I'm a strong believer of "I can post whatever I want forever", if anyone has an issue with it and the given tools at their disposal aren't enough to deal with it, they're free to unfollow and/or block me! I don't need anyone's approval to have harmless fun with my artistic and writing skills where I don't bother anyone, and that's imo always what should be at the core of creating just about anything.

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OH ALSO I KNOW THAT FIC AND IT'S SOO GOOODDDD I DROP EVERYTHING TO GO READ IT WHENEVER A NEW CHAPTER DROPS

I try my best to leave comments under it wherever I can too bc it genuinely scratches like every itch I have about this ship so well-

The comedy is on point, the dialogue feels so solidly in-character and the pacing and the overall concept just work perfectly!!

10/10 concur as a great recommendation lol

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QWQ again, thank you so much for taking the time to type out this lovely ask, I really do appreciate it and the compliments also absolutely made my day!!

I hope you keep having as much fun with this ship as I am, take care!! <3

[glassofgretel]

My honest opinion on Evillious Chronicles...I believe the series is truly deep and beautifully written, but there are some personal issues I have with it.

I don't really care about the point and message of the Evillious Chronicle series nor the concept of "morally gray", I only believe in good, evil and the consequences of our own actions. MOTHY has made an amazing story that we all still enjoy ~16 years later, but I have to disagree with his philosophy and outlook on the world, ours differ greatly– Though he has some valid points, it's rather naïve IMO... and while it's compelling storywise and from an emotional perspective, it isn't as much realistically or from a political/social standpoint of right and wrong.

Morality never mattered in the first place, because evil always succeeds if it has enough power or deems its deeds necessary for a "greater benefit"... Good and evil are both necessary forces that exist to maintain the balance of this universe, just as our fate dictates.

Personally, I'm starting to see far more evil and corruption than light and hope in today's politics and throughout our society's history, so I only get pissed the fuck off whenever I see a political debate between self-righteous snowflakes on Twitter or Reddit (Especially the Character rant mfs), with each side claiming that they're right and the other is evil.

Even though morality is literally IRRELEVANT in politics, it has always been about interests and agendas in the end. If anything, there are only two lesser and greater evils. 💀

I'm no Altright-winger either, as some idiots on Discord might say... I'm more of a Pan-Arab nationalist but I just hate politics in general. Because if anything, we humans deserve all the shit that's coming to us. And trust me, I HATE Hitler with every fiber of my being... but if I were in his shoes, I would've done far worse with all the scum and idiocy in this world.

As for Riliane Lucifen, despite her awful deeds, she was still somewhat good at heart. Unlike the two-faced hypocrites over at the USA, Russia, China and Israeli governments, and especially those scumbags Adolf/Stalin... But it still doesn't excuse her actions despite her lack of moral agency, neither does her being possessed and manipulated by the demons.

So let's stop painting her as some sort of saint, she was a broken kid who deserved her redemption and a second chance- but that's all there is...

Because we know damn well that would NEVER fly in our reality, even if she was truly genuine about making amends.And I don't want to be like her or Nemesis lol, I prefer the likes of Frieza, Judge Holden, King Piccolo etc. as role models, because at least they're purely evil and honest about their philosophy, they embrace it to reach their own goals. Unlike most of our world's society...

I would say I am Near Pure evil though, since I have clear moral standards and my own personal law, I can discern right from wrong- But I'm not really much better than Hitler myself, and I am wrong more often than I'm right. I just despise everything wrong with the world, but I don't intend to change it for the better either. I don't even care about ending the cycle of violence and hate, infact I want to keep it going for my own benefit. That is the path I've chosen for myself and I embrace it fully with no guilt or regrets, even if it might be the wrong one.

I'm not just being pretentious or edgy either, I am simply disappointed and frustrated with this reality- I've had enough of this world and want to watch it burn. I enjoy treating evil with even worse evil, fighting fire with fire- Because it turns me on, gives me a greater purpose and sense of fulfilment too.

I'm sorry I really don't know how to answer this, it's the most concerning message I've ever received in my entire life