#now to make another dozen till i get good at it

[onenightbreak]

now i have an ita bag that isn’t actively falling apart

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

Hey actually let's talk about cigarette burns since I feel like they're pretty in vogue rn for the t4t girlies out there. I have a few dozen of em so I'll share my experience.

First off, they are usually going to be semi permanent if not permanent. Not saying don't do it, but I am saying that should be considered.

There are ~16 on the back of my hand, all from around the same time from over 2 and a half years ago. Most if not all were not from putting out a square, but instead, holding the cherry against the skin. Most are faded enough that you have to look really close, but a few you could see from a glance

Most of these below are from a year and a change to nine-ish months ago, and they all were from putting out cigarettes. Some of them have a slight bump to them (likely small keloids) whereas some of them are much flatter. They don't itch or irritate and besides the visual blemish, I wouldn't notice I had em. Some are very faded and don't even show up well on camera, whereas others are very noticable even from a distance. I would very much not recommend getting them on your breasts, those are the only ones I regret. They healed slower and poorer and I just don't like their look.

I also have some on my back and legs but they're similar enough to examples shown here.

Second--the actual act of burning. Look idk jack shit but I find it's less painful and heals much nicer to just get it all done quick. It's like putting out a candle with your fingers. From contact with the skin to being pushed down all the way should probably be like a second, maybe less. Once it's out, it's out, it's not really gonna damage the skin any more, so unless you're going for long term skin damage, the name of the game is speed.

If you want to make that second hurt a little more, give it a drag right before you press it down, it'll heat the cherry up, though again, more likely to damage the skin more. Want it to hurt/damage a little less, wait till it's already going out. Besides that, any actual tips for putting on a good show are for another time.

Finally--caring for the wounds. I literally did nothing to care for any mine so no advice from me besides probably hit that bad boy with some alcohol wipes every now and then and please don't keep picking at it. I'm sure others can add what to actually do. I did have luck breaking down one that turned into a keloid by massaging it gently for a bit every few hours for a week or two but that could be random

I'm sure there are other risks but this is just things I've run into with burns, so others can feel free to add on

If u appreciated this post, consider checking out my leather at pansy-leatherwork.com

[shycloudkitty]

His Sweetest Escape

Summary: Leon returned from a mission. Safe but exhausted and traumatized as hell. He doesn't want to drown in the suffocating thoughts of survivor's guilt. He wants an escape. And you were always his sweetest escape.

Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader 

Tags: (NSFW 18+), MDNI, FWB relationship, Angst at first, talking about Leon's trauma (necessary for the plot), Oral (f receiving!), Cunnilingus, fingering, sitting on Leon's face, nipple play, Leon being a tease. A bit ooc? Probably. 

A/N: Hello Guys!!! My FIRST smut fic is here🤭. Yes I know…FWB again, but I just really wanted to write a smut fic with that trope😭. Also I am very serious about minors not interacting with this post. Please don't.

(Edit) : This can be considered a sort of rough prequel to Just a little touch. Cause for a prequel I have something else cooking up🤭

Hope you enjoy this and have a good day!! 😊😊

A huge thanks to @elfven-blog and @luniaxi for helping me a lot. A little birthday (belated) present to @nexysworld 🥰

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

WC: 5.6K

Another mission. Another horde of zombies and tyrants. And dozens and dozens of lives that he wasn't able to save in time. But it was a successful mission or at least that's what he was told by his superiors. 

Leon tiredly pushed open the door to his apartment and deeply sighed as he slowly entered and closed the door behind him. 

It is said that a home perfectly reflects people's personalities. The things there give bits of how a person lives and wants to live, their likes and dislikes and much more. 

And his cold and empty apartment gave a perfect reflection on who he was. The furniture was there, furnished of course. But that was it. No decorations or signs of someone living there. And that's how he felt he was. A person who had all the features of a normal person but cold and empty on the inside. 

But then again he never found a home. This was just a place to live in. 

Leon found a whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet and dropped to the couch, groaning as he sat down after a long time feeling his injuries stretch uncomfortably making him wince. Leaning his head back and staring at the empty ceiling, flashbacks of the mission running wild in his mind. Taking a big swig of his whiskey to numb it. Trying to forget everything about that God forsaken assignment. 

Leon kept drinking and drinking till he started to feel a bit numb to it and sighed tiredly to himself and pushed the bottle aside. Allowing himself to get a bit lost in his thoughts and closed his eyes. 

He was so fucking tired of all this fighting, fighting it to no fucking end and never seeing the ray of hope that all of this shit would end one day. Instead it only got worse. And he fucking hated it. 

His survivor's guilt continued to eat at him slowly and bit by bit on his consciousness, till he felt suffocated by it. 

He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and groaned in frustration. The fuck was wrong with him? Actually don't answer that, he already knows. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Closing his eyes and taking small deep breaths. 

Leon shook his head to himself and sighed again. This wasn't going to go away anytime soon. And he really didn't want to wallow and drown in the guilt or he was sure it would kill him more than it already had. He wanted an escape. 

A sweet escape that always made him forget about the hellish missions and the guilt that comes with it. 

He opened his phone and searched for your contact and pressed the call button. Bringing the phone to his ear as it rang. 

For some reason he felt a bit guilty for only calling you for these things, which was weird because it has always been like this between you both… and neither of you minded it before. 

Maybe he needs this more than he thought. 

“Hey handsome” Your sweet voice rang in his ear from the other side of the call making his mood a bit better. 

He cleared his throat and said “Hey… Doing anything right now?” Trying not to sound too desperate for her and playing it cool. 

“Sort of… But… I can be free if you want~” trying to tease him a little bit. 

A small smile bloomed on his face when he heard that and teasingly replied. “You will make time for me huh? That's sweet.” 

You chuckle and tease him back. “Oh you know… I could never say no to you…or a good time.”

Your teasing words made Leon smile a bit more. Knowing you could always tease him a little and get away with it and he wouldn't mind it even once cause he loved the tease. 

Leon then says. “Then be free and come here.”

“Uff… So bossy. Can't add a ‘please’ in your sentence?” You asked in a playful way. 

“One more comment out of your smart mouth and I will come to your apartment to show you how bossy I can actually be.” Voice getting sultry as he teased you. 

It's not like it will be the first time he bossed a sweet thing like you around… always so eager to please him, following the orders he used to give you while you were a moaning & whimpering mess but oh, so ready to do them… just for him. 

How could he not feel like a God when you were always ready to be his devoted worshiper. 

There was a beat of silence, and Leon smirked knowing that teasing worked perfectly in making you flustered. 

He took the opportunity and said “Hmm… that's what I thought, now come here…please” emphasizing the word please more on purpose. 

You lightly huff over the phone. “You know you are making a lot of promises.” your voice was clearly flustered even if you tried to hide it. 

“Cause I can keep ‘em. I don't make empty promises and you know that…” His voice lowered. He knew how much he had an effect on you, and he couldn't help but use it to his advantage. 

Leon waited for a response. 

“...I do.” your voice came out more breathy than he expected. 

“Good girl… now come soon. I am waiting.”

He cut the call and tossed his phone aside, taking a deep breath. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he got plenty worked up from just one call and it was probably less than a minute. 

You were a damn vixen and he loved it. 

Now that you were most certainly coming over, he could at least take a shower. He got up from the couch with a groan and stretched his arms a bit and made his way to his bathroom. 

Removing his gear and soiled work clothes, he got in the shower and turned it on. Letting the water slowly wash the grime and dried blood away along with the horrible memories of the mission. 

Instead he focused his thoughts on you. He let his mind slowly fill with the sweet memories of you. Your soft red lips against his… They tasted like candy, sometimes cherry but always something sweet. 

And he especially loved when your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock…slowly taking him in and looking up at him with those greedy eyes all your senses focused on him to pleasure him. 

How could he not want a sweet thing like you around forever? 

But he wouldn't admit that out loud. 

Leon could feel himself get more worked up as he felt more images fill up in his head and groaned quietly.

He huffed lightly, and quickly finished his shower and got out of it. Moving towards his wardrobe and wearing his sweatpants and one of his casual blue t-shirt. And decided to wait till you arrived. 

15 mins later his doorbell rang and he grinned at the thought that it was you. And quickly walked towards the door and opened it. 

And there you were, a smile on your face and a soft blush on your cheeks. Wearing a white crop top and blue jeans to pair it up with and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. He bit his lip lightly and teasingly said. “You came huh?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled playfully at his words. “You called.” your voice being equally teasing. 

He grinned and let you inside his apartment and closed the door behind you. 

“When did you come back from your mission?” You asked as you went over and sat on the couch and looked at him. 

“Today actually…” Leon said as he came over and sat beside you. You raised an eyebrow and said. “Today... Like..Just now?” 

Leon nodded and shrugged lightly and looked at you. “Yeah. Why?”

Your eyes widened and said. “Wow… aren't you tired and sleepy as hell?”

Leon chuckled and shrugged. “No, not really.”

Well to be fair he was exhausted but that's why you were here… to take it all away. 

You frowned slightly not believing his words. After all, he was gone for a considerably long time. You then slowly ask. “Are you sure?”

Leon just chuckled and teasingly replied with a smirk. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it… Although I am flattered that you care that much about my health.”

While he was grateful that you were concerned for him, he didn't want to talk about it. He would rather focus on you and get lost in you than talk about his awful work. 

You roll your eyes and smirk at him and playfully reply. “Please… I am only asking because I don't think you will be able to last if you just came back home tired as hell.” 

You knew what you were doing, but again a little friendly fire never hurts anyone. And in this, you don't care if it hurts you. 

Leon looks at you in amusement and scoffs lightly, shifting closer to you as his voice lowered. “You think I wouldn't be able to last long hmm?” Slowly bringing his hand to your thigh and caressing it gently while looking in your eyes. 

You bite your lip and slowly say. “You heard what I said… Did I hit the nail with that?” 

No, but you did hurt his ego. And he was going to prove exactly how wrong you are. All in the name of friendly fire. 

Leon started to gently run his fingers to your inner thighs and rub teasing circles there. His hand inching closer and closer... but never touching you where you really wanted him to. 

His lips curve in a smirk and biting his lip lightly. “You really think that huh...” his hot breath hitting your neck. His gaze falling on your lips, on how you are slowly biting them. 

Your face grows flushed and goosebumps rise on your skin as he… slowly moves his free hand on your other thigh and does the same thing there. His smirk grows wider when he feels you squirming a bit. 

Everything around you feels so much hotter now… his touch, his eyes shamelessly tracing every inch of your soft body. 

Leon watched as you cleared your throat and looked away from him. “Not really… I was just joking, you know.” 

Leon smirked some more and teasingly repeated your words. “Just joking hmm?”

Your breath hitches when Leon presses his lips on your neck and presses feather light kisses on it while gently nibbling on it too. You tilt your head back giving him better access, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth lightly scrape your skin.

Your perfume slowly fills his senses and makes his mind hazy with lust. You smelled so fucking good to him. All this teasing was doing a number on him. So much so that now all he wanted to do was to fuck you dumb against this couch and still keep going. 

He gently bites your earlobe and mumbles. “Can't have you making jokes everywhere on serious matters baby…”

You gasp as he suddenly spreads your thighs apart, settling himself between them. His bites on your neck get a bit more harsher as his hands start sliding to your ass. Gripping them tightly and bringing you close, pressing you against the couch and him.

He then whispers. “Can't have a sweet thing like you leaving my bed thinking my cock wasn't good enough for your pussy…”

You squirmed in his grip as his words shoot straight at your core. His touch felt as if it was burning right through your skin. You opened your mouth to say something and a small whimper escaped your lips as he bit down on a much sensitive part of your neck. 

“Oh Leon…” You mumbled and looked at him. And he quickly sealed your lips with a kiss and mumbles against your lips. “I know baby, You love that cock don't you? Love how good it feels when it ruins your little cunt.” 

A small mewl left your mouth as two of his fingers reached your center, sliding them up and down on your clothed cunt giving you the stimulation you were craving. 

Leon smirked at your little sounds and snakes his other hand under your crop top, slowly groping your right breast in his hand. And tauntingly says. “Yeah…Feels good when I give that cunt a bit of attention, Doesn't it? Already squirming under my fingers and I haven't even started.” 

Your body grew hotter as his fingers started to rub small circles over your cunt and now groping your breasts a bit harshly now. You can feel your panties getting wet from his teasing and lean more into his fingers to search for that friction. You whine and pout at him. “Leon…Stop teasing.”

He bites your earlobe. “You try to tell me what I should…And teasing you will be all I do tonight.” You pouted him in response and he just gave you a teasing grin.

As he says that he pinches one of your nipples making you jolt in surprise. You whine as he continues to pinch and roll it teasingly between his fingers drawing a needy moan from you. 

He then pulls away slightly and starts to unbutton your jeans and kisses you. He lightly tugs at your lower lip, giving you a pleasant shiver down your spine. Removing your jeans he cups your ass and drags it a bit closer for him to see. Smirking at the wet spot on your cute lacy panties. 

Soft moans and whimpers fall off your lips as he presses his thumb on your clit over the thin layer of the fabric and rubs slow teasing circles. 

His free hand makes its way to your chest and eagerly lifts your crop top and tugs your bra down to free your breasts. And latches his mouth to one of them and eagerly starts to suck on them, not even bothering to fully remove it.

He then starts to slowly suck on your nipples taking his sweet time with it while still paying attention to your cunt. His eyes are shut as if he was concentrating on the world's most important task ever. Your moans started to get louder and more whiny, and feel the flimsy fabric of your panties sticking to your folds by now.

He suddenly pinches your clit at the same time he gives a harsh tug at your nipple. Your body twitches from the sensation and you whine louder than before. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you gasped for breaths.

You looked down to see his face and whined to him. “Leon, I want more…please.” Your voice was more breathy than before. You gave him a pout and looked at him with those same needy eyes which he usually gave into.

He feels so proud for having you this way, seeing how quickly you used to melt for him and gave him the control he was so desperately craving without any resistance. And he loved it every single time. Seeing your red pouty lips, eyes filled with lust, messed up hair, flushed face, it made his heart skip a few beats every time… He could always get lost in your beauty and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon presses a kiss at your temple and drops another at your shoulder. And smirks and in a taunting tone whispers. “We just started baby, Already can't last hmm?”

Ass. That's what he was. An ass for using your words against you. 

He then pulls back and you whine at the loss of his touch. Panting softly, your skin feeling as if it was burning under his hot gaze. You look up at him and he wasn't any better but he had a better control on it. 

He grins and kisses you softly on the lips to make up for the teasing and softly asks “Want to move this to the bedroom?” You nod and kiss him back. Wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

You both kiss each other softly and he slowly removes the rest of your clothes and lifts you up in his arms and slowly stands up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your hands gripping his shoulders and continue to kiss him softly while he makes his way to his bedroom. 

He places his hands on your hips to hold you and never breaks the kiss even once. If anything he pulls you more close and deepens the kisses. He opens his bedroom door and slowly lays you down on bed and pulls away a bit and smiles at you and softly whispers. “Want more?”

You nod and he leans in close and deepens the kiss. Gently caressing your body all over, his hands kneading the soft plush fat of your thighs and hips. Tongue exploring your mouth sensually while kissing you. Both of your eyes closed while enjoying the sensual kisses and touches. This was much calmer than what you both were doing earlier but still very sensual to keep you both going. 

“Feeling better?” He mumbles against your lips. 

You chuckle softly and in a teasing tone reply. “I would feel much better when you actually start.” 

You feel a deep rumble from his chest as he laughs softly at that and shakes his head lightly. His voice takes a quick change from soft to sweetly seductive and whispers. “Fucking insatiable…Love it. Who could tell that a cutie like you was such a slut inside. But you are not gonna hear any complaints from me.”

Your cheeks burn red from his words as he now starts to kiss your neck and collarbone. A moan slipped from your mouth when he pressed himself forward and his boner made contact with your sensitive clit, letting you feel how much he was turned on right now. The cloth of his sweatpants gave enough friction to feel amazing as you started to grind against him, wanting to continue where he left off. 

Soft grunts slipped from his mouth as he felt you eagerly rub your pussy against him. A rough chuckle leaves his lips and he mumbles. “Patience baby…” and moves his hips away to stop it, pulling a whine from your mouth from frustration. 

He brings your lips in a deep kiss which you were more than happy to respond to. His hands found their way back to your chest to your breasts. Groping and massaging them and giving light tugs at your nipple which made your body twitch in excitement. 

He then tugged your lower lip, gave a harsh bite to it and tweaked your nipple lightly. He continues this motion of torturing you like this. While you lay there under him writhing and moaning for him. “Leon… I can't take it… please..”

The little piece of shit just laughs and tweaks your nipples once more making you whimper for him. And in a taunting tone says. “Oh yeah? You can't take it hmm? Too damn bad…”

You feel him rubbing those little buds under his thumb sometimes rolling it between his fingers while basically tongue fucking your mouth. You whimper, whine and even try to push him off but if anything that encourages him to do more of that. 

Soon you feel that invisible band in your stomach stretching and stretching… just waiting to snap. And Leon notices it, the way your body starts shivering and your moans get louder. He then leans in to whisper. “Gonna cum baby?”

You nod and look at him with a pout. “Please…” He just smirks and keeps doing what he was doing. Your body twitches and holds onto his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You are just so close… Right… there. 

And he pulls away. 

Your eyes immediately shoot open. “Nooo!” A loud whine leaves your lips and look up at him with a frustrated expression. 

How could he do this to you? Such a fucking tease? And you were so fucking close and he just had to pull away and ruin it. 

He had a big shit eating grin on his face but he wasn't faring any better than you were. His shirt was clinging to his body, face flushed red and his hair messed up. And the way you can see his dick bulging in his pants proved he was just as pent up as you. 

He was just teasing both of you to hell. Asshole. 

You gave a pout as the tears from frustration started to brim in your eyes. “You are so mean…” 

Leon smiles as he leans down closer to you and softly coos to you. “Aww… is my baby angry at me?”

You nod and continue to pout at him. Leon smiles and takes your face in his hands. And kisses you gently on your soft lips. You don't kiss him back at first but you hear his soft whispers to forgive him for teasing you so much. “Please baby… forgive me? I swear I wouldn't tease you now… Kiss me back?”

And you really wanted to stay mad at him but… you couldn't do that for much long. 

How could you when he looked at you with those blue lust blown eyes and gave you soft kisses across your face to make you forgive him? 

You then slowly kissed him back and he was more than happy to oblige. Kissing you softly, taking his time to ease you and then he says. “Ride my face? I promise I will let you cum this time..”

Your face went red and your eyes widened and mumbled against his lips. “Really? Are you sure you want me to do that?”

You feel him nod, lightly tugging at your lower lip and say. “Of course…Want that pretty pussy of yours on my face.”

It's not like this was your first time riding his face either...

Your face goes red but you are more excited than embarrassed. You nod and kiss him back with more fervor. “Okay… I will.”

He pulls away and finally removes his clothes. Removing his sweatpants and freeing his cock from it. Groaning softly as his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum leaking from his cock. Spreading it with his thumb from his tip to the rest and lightly strokes himself. Hissing at how sensitive his cock was from all that teasing. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him naked. His body was littered with scars but that only made him more alluring at this moment. You just wanted to kiss and nibble on each scar till he was red from all the hickeys. It always took your breath away when you watched him like this. 

You lick your lips and come closer to him and give him your most innocent doe eyes and make your voice as seductive as possible. “Can I taste you?”

Leon feels his cock twitch at the request and lightly bites his lips. He was really really tempted to take you up on that offer but he had other plans… 

He tilts your chin up and says. “Look at you… so eager for this cock hmm? Already want to wrap your pretty lips on it.”

You feel yourself getting more slicked from his words and eagerly nod. “Yes…please, want to suck your cock so bad…”

Leon smirks and gives a teasing kiss on your lips. “Some other time baby, want you to ride my face today.”

Your face flushes deep red and nod. “Okay…”

He grins and lays back down on bed adjusting himself with pillows under his head and motions for you to come up. 

You bite your lip and slowly crawl over to him. Slowly bringing your thighs on either side of his head, hands grasping at the headboard as you position yourself over his face. 

A loud groan leaves his lips as his eyes locks down at your drenched cunt. He licks his lips and feels his mouth water, he immediately grasps your hips and thighs and positions your cunt in front of his hungry mouth. 

You gasp softly as you feel him suddenly shift you more and look down at how hungrily he was looking at you. 

Leon moves his hands to your ass and squeezes it gently. And looks at you. “Come on baby sit. And don't hover, don't want to waste a drop of you”  His words make your stomach flip. Your heart thundering in your chest as you try to come up with something to say but feel your words stuck in your throat. 

You bite your lips and follow his words. And slowly sit down on his face and the moan he let's out when his tongue makes contact with your clit was downright pathetic. He immediately tightens his grip around your thighs and your ass, closing his eyes and lapping at your cunt happily. 

You moan softly as you feel his tongue give you lazy, slow licks from your labia to your clit. Taking his time with it, slowly tasting through your folds. Swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit giving it occasional tugs with his teeth.

Your body twitches above him as your moans turn into cries of pleasure. Trying to move away from his face but he grunts and grabs your ass and pulls you back in. Giving your ass a light spank, “Don't move…” 

You squeal and close your eyes as you focus on his tongue, trying not to move that much. Biting your lip, one of your hands makes into his hair. He groans at the feeling of your fingers lightly threading through his hair. And pushes his tongue inside your sopping hole, slowly fucking you with it. 

He moans when he feels your juices on his tongue. You always tasted like a fucking heaven to him. He could stay between your thighs all day if he could. Drinking what you had to give to him while hearing sweet chorus of whines and moans as they left your mouth, his own favorite music to listen to when he came back home from those fucked up missions. 

You were his personal haven, letting him have you like this, he felt the luckiest man in the world. Feeling you tug his hair, squirming on his mouth and still riding his mouth like it was your last day on earth. He fucking loved it. He could get off on having you just like this. 

Your thighs squeeze around his head and tug at his hair a bit harder than necessary pulling a groan out of him. It only encouraged him to fuck his tongue into you faster. You squealed a bit as lifted you up a bit only to feel two of his fingers enter your cunt drawing a long moan out of you. Slowly sliding in and out of you, your wet walls eagerly sucking him back in. 

A loud groan leaves your lips when he starts to suck on your clit too. “Oh fuck…Leon!” Hips moving on its own, as he continues to finger you and tug at your clit. Curling his fingers inside and moving them against the spot which always made you see stars. Your body twitches and eyes roll in the back of your head as he moves his fingers faster. 

His fingers constantly assaulting that sweet spot within you, sometimes slowing them down to hear your pretty whines of protest and suddenly increasing the pace just to fuck with you. Feeling your thighs squeeze around his head tightly drawing a loud groan from him, the vibrations going straight to your core and giving you an instant jolt of pleasure. 

All the teasing slowly piled up and you felt that familiar band in your core just waiting to snap at any moment. You clenched tightly around his fingers. He hummed in satisfaction as he felt you do that, removing his fingers and pushing his tongue inside, wanting you to cum on his tongue instead.

He held your hips tightly to support you and let you ride his face as much as you wanted. Both of your hands going down to his hair, tugging at it while riding his face at your pace. Your clit constantly bumping against his nose making you a moaning mess above him. “Fuckkkk… Leon… feels so good… Just like that! Fuck! Yes!”

His eyes roll in the back of his head as he feels the stinging pain as you tug at his hair. Loving the pain and pleasure that came with it. One of his hands goes down to his cock and stroking himself in time with the pace that you set. Feeling himself getting closer and closer as you both kept going. 

He felt he could burst at any moment just from hearing the lewd noises you both were making. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

You open your eyes, your gaze drifting to the sight of him between your legs. And it instantly brought you closer to the edge than ever. His eyes were screwed shut, focused on giving you the high you were so eagerly chasing. His grip on your ass was tight enough to leave bruises, not that you cared.

You loved seeing his marks on your body anyway. 

“M’ gonna cum… so close…” you whined as you looked down at him. His eyes opened to look at the heavenly sight of you writhing above him and smirked. 

He winked at you and moved his tongue faster inside you and gave you a sudden spank from the hand that was already gripping you while he stroked himself with the other. 

You whine from the spank and feel that band inside you finally snap “Leon!”. He soon comes after you with a loud groan and hisses as ropes of thick hot cum fall on his thighs and abs. 

Your body twitches and shakes when the euphoria flows through your body. You felt so lightweight, feeling like you could drop at any moment. Leon gently grasped your waist with one hand and the other on your thigh, slowly helping you ride through your high. And eagerly drank up every drop. Humming softly in satisfaction. 

You whined softly still feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You tried to get off of him whining softly in protest and he gently lowered you down in bed. His chin was soaked with your release as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. 

He brought you close to him, pressing you against him and giving soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks. Both of you were breathing heavily in each other's arms. His soft kisses act as a soothing balm to your tired body. 

You gently caressed his hair and face in return as he started to pepper kisses along your collarbone now. “Feeling good?” Leon's soft voice entered your dazed mind. You smiled lazily at him and sighed softly. “I feel amazing…”

Leon chuckled and gave a soft kiss to your crown and pulled you closer. “Good…I would be disappointed otherwise.”

You chuckled and teasingly say. “In me or yourself?” He snickered and replied “You of course. I am amazing at what I do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and say. “And I am not?” Leon smirked and bit your earlobe playfully. “That’s up for debate…”

You scoffed, giving him an offended look at him and narrowed your eyes at him “Excuse me?”

Leon had to bite back a chuckle as he saw you trying to be serious, and he could tell that you weren't serious either. Seeing your smile threatening to take over your face.

You huff when you saw a chuckle slipping from him. “You are laughing at me aren't you?” Still keeping your eyes narrowed at him. 

Leon cleared his throat, trying his best to be serious. “No, I would never laugh at you.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and said. “Liar.” 

Leon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement and playfully whispered. “You look cute when you are angry.”

Your eyes widened at his words and looked away from him to hide your blushing face from his comment “Whatever.”

Leon chuckled. “Uh huh… What is this then?” Poking at your red cheeks. 

You pouted at him and huffed. “Nothing okay? Just shut up.”

Leon’s snickered and a mischievous grin spread on his face. “You want me to shut up? Sit on my face again and then I will think.”

Leon's smirk widened as he saw your face flush red and looking away from him, squirming slightly as you thought about doing it again. Leon squished your cheeks and turned your face back towards him and looked at you with a smug face. 

“You want to sit on my face again don't you?” A knowing smug smile on his face. 

Your face turned beet red as you felt yourself heat up again from his words and slowly nodded. 

Leon smirked and started to kiss your neck all over again and mumbled. “So...fucking...insatiable.”

This was sure as hell gonna be a long night for both of you. But none of you had any complaints. 

God. It's done. Oh my god. FINALLY. I honestly didn't expect this to take so much of my time but it surprisingly did. I guess it did cause it's my first time writing smut rather than consuming it lol.

Anyways... I hope you liked this fic. Hope it made your day!!🥰😊.

Until next time 😊❤

-Bella

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2

Robin Buckley was unfortunately well-aware of Steve Harrington, long before they started working together. He had been the worst kind of popular in high school, the completely effortless kind. And Robin was not looking forward to working with him. 

Sure, he had been better than the other jock dickheads Robin was forced to share space with, but that probably had more to do with his weird Eddie Munson friendship than anything else. Being friends with the town freak kind of forced you to be more accepting. Or in Steve’s case, force you to punch anyone who insulted him in the face. 

And while that was all nice and chivlirous or whatever it didn’t stop the fact that Steve Harringinton was a complete ass who slept with dozens of girls and threw them away immmeidtly after. There was no way that a guy like that wasn’t a dick. 

And after their first shift working together, Robin was convinced that she had been absolutely right. He was a total slouch at work, spending most of his time failing at flirting with girls or yapping to his friends on the phone in the back. He was a complete diva about his hair, and their manager had given him three reprimands in the span of four hours for not wearing the dumb hat. And he was always trying to get out of work early. 

After their first week together Robin was ready to strangle him. The only thing she’d give him is that he accepted being assigned indefinite bathroom cleaning duty with grace, otherwise she probably would have killed him and hid the body in the freezer by now.

Though he was really trying to expedite the process over here.

It was another annoying, Harrington filled day, only for him to once again try and leave early. 

But before he could get to the door, Robin was dragging him back behind the counter, hissing, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We have inventory tonight.”

She had expected him to whine in response or maybe say something dickish that she could kick him in the shin for, but he just looked horrified.

“Tonight? B-But it won’t take that long right? Like just a few minutes?”

“Try a few hours. They’re making us count the spoons man. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

His eyes got wider with each word, and for a split second Robin was actually worried that he was about to have a panic attack. That was until he opened his mouth again, “I-okay. Look dude, I really can’t do this tonight. I have a thing that I need to go to. But I can make it up to you! Or I can come in tomorrow morning-”

“The manager is going to look at it tomorrow morning,” Robin interrupted, arms crossed and brow twitching, “What is so damn important that it can’t wait till tomorrowow?”

“Does that matter?” Steve asked, oddly defensive for someone who was literally begging, “I just need to leave. But I can make it up to you! I’ll even pay you. You can have all the tips for the week and if that’s not enough then I’ll do the trash for three-no four days. I’ll do anything. Please?”

He actually looked like he was on the edge of tears and Robin had to begrudgingly admit that the puppy eyes were working on her. Christ, she was too good of a person. 

She sighed, “Trash duty for two weeks, and for the week I get the tips I expect you to be extra charming. We clear?”

“Yes! Totally fair!” Steve was already speed walking backwards to the door, and those misty eyes had suddenly completely disappeared. Robin was started to think that she just got played and big time, “Best co-worker ever! Really couldn’t ask for better-”

“Just fucking go.” Robin said as she shooed him off, near snorting when Steve actually started running out of the mall. 

She looked back behind the counter, groaning when she realized that his trash promise apparently started tomorrow. Fucking dick. She’d take out the trash, do inventroy alone, and then curse the Harrington name. 

She started to lug the disgusting trash bags full of soupy ice cream through the backdoor, shivering a little in the cold. The dumpster was right next to the almost empty parking lot, everyone gone except one long running van.

Robin stopped, realziing that two people were making out infront of it, and one of them just so happened to still be wearing his cutsy uniform while he shoved his tongue down the stranger’s throat. Robin stared at them, barely concealed by the dumpster as her blood boiled. 

Steve ditched her to make-out with some chick in the parking lot? Oh hell no. He was not getting away with this. She was just about to come out of her hiding spot to start tearing into him when she heard Steve giggle. Honest to god giggle. 

He was standing in front of the girl, obscuring her face while he played with a lock of her hair, “Aw, don’t pout. I didn’t make the schedule. Besides, I already said I’d make it up to you in any way you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes, wondering if she should include warning the poor girl that whatever two week anniversary they were celebrating would definitely be their last when she called him out. 

“I just didn’t expect to spend most of our four year anniversary eating cake in bed alone,” The stranger answered, their voice instantly recongnizble, “I was supposed to be eating you.”

That wasn’t a chick, that was Eddie.

Robin gasped, a hand going over her mouth. She had heard that voice many times, usually yelling about comforimity while standing on a lunch table. But that didn’t make sense! It couldn’t be-

But then Eddie was spinning them around, crowding Steve against the hood of his car, his signature DIO vest on full display while he ploundered Steve’s mouth, Steve laughing into it all the while. 

Robin felt like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched them. She was actually witnessing Steve Harrington happily shoving his tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat.

Steve pulled away first, holding Eddie back with a hand to his chest, still giggling, “God, that was so lame. Even for you.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Steve easily agreed, “And I’ll love it even more when we’re home and in bed. Then we can really start celebrating.”

That was more than enough for Eddie. He dragged Steve off of the hood before opening the passenger side door for him, stealing one more kiss before running over to the driver’s side. 

Robin watched as they settled into the van, hands immediately clasped back together over the centerconsole. But it didn’t stop there. No, Steve was licking his lips and looking down muttering something to Eddie that she couldn’t hear. But she could guess, especially when his head suddenly dissapeared right before they drove off. 

Robin stayed hidden behind the dumpster, still trying to comprehend what she’d just seen. She just watched King Steve make out with the resident freak, and maybe start the beginnings of road head, all while giggling and laughing about their fucking anniversy.

What. The. Fuck.

From an unpublished chapter of this fic

[seenoversundown]

Golden Wings

I saw this tweet about hozier leaving love notes around the house for his partner to find and I could not stop thinking about it. Good luck!

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

I wake as I always do, surrounded by his scent. Woodsy, dark, and a tad floral. I do a big stretch followed by a small whine. I go to reach over to Andrew’s side trying to feel any trace of him.

“Andrew?” I murmur, my voice still heavy with sleep. I continue to paw at his side of the bed until I feel his abandoned pillow. I force my eyes to open and glance around the room, and realize I am most definitely alone. I prop myself up, a little sad I missed him this morning. But then out of the corner of my eye I notice a soft pale blue square against our dark emerald sheets. I lean over and grab it, becoming a little giddy when I realize it’s a note. 

The goddess of the day has risen, how I am unworthy to love such an ethereal being. 

When you are ready, there is breakfast downstairs. 

All my love, ~A.

I read and reread the small note probably a dozen times. His words always have a way of piercing into my heart directly and making a home inside. I hold the soft blue square to my chest and wonder how lucky I had to have been to have found Andrew. 

I slip on a matching cream colored silk set, Andrew’s favorite, and slowly make my way down to the kitchen. I glance around our small home as I walk through the hallways and wonder how we were able to move into here only four months ago but it’s felt like forever. It feels right. As I round the corner, the aroma of breakfast hits me. 

“Love, it smells divine,” I say. I’m greeted with silence in return, just another small pale blue square. 

Light of the day, your breakfast awaits you warming in the oven. I didn’t want to wake you- you looked so peaceful, but I had to run to the studio this morning just for some final touches.

I will be home in a few hours to you, my love, I promise. 

For now, eat your breakfast. Get your strength for the day. Look for more notes. I have plans for you. 

All my love,

~A. 

Again, I can’t help but reread his words, hearing his voice as if he’s reading them directly to me. Once I tuck the note in a safe place I open the oven to look at what awaits me. Andrew wasn’t lying. A fully prepared breakfast sits on a plate in the warm oven. He’s left oven mitts for me on top of the stove, which I grab eagerly. Breakfast smells even better when it’s sitting right in front of me. Veggie bacon, eggs sprinkled with cheese and spinach, toast with butter and maple sugar. 

As I sit down at my plate ready to devour the spread in front of me I spot Andrew’s discarded robe on the seat next to me. I don’t even hesitate as I reach out for it, wrapping myself in his scent and warmth. I feel even more relaxed now, if that was even possible, as I eat my meal.

I finish up my toast basking in the silence of our home. I can’t help but wonder when Andrew will be home, so I go find my phone to send him a text. 

Y/N: Thank you for breakfast, my love. I miss you.

A: You are so welcome, my dove. Look for the notes. I’ll be home before you know it. I miss you more. 

My heart flutters at his words like always as I go to put my cell phone in his robe pocket. Sliding it into the soft pocket, I swear I hear a paper-like crunch. I’m quick to take my phone right back out and stick my hand in to feel for the noise. It doesn’t take long before I pull out a small pale blue square identical to the ones before it. 

I knew you would put this on, my sweet. I have never known such a love as the love you give to me, I am forever in awe of you. 

Till we are bones, my love.

All my love, 

~A.

My heart thumps in my chest. I take the little note and add it to my ever-growing pile. Snagging a cup of tea, I walk around our sunlit living room and tend to our ‘plant children’. The monstera has always been my favorite, even though I tell Andrew they’re all my favorites. They do say you’re not supposed to have a favorite child. I don’t hesitate as I walk up to her, murmuring my good mornings and inspecting her as I grasp my mug of tea, bringing it to my lips. As soon as Andrew called me his, he kept my favorite kind of tea in superfluous supply wherever he lived- just for me. It doesn’t take me long to notice a little blue square nestled in her leaves. Of course he knew. 

Seeing you wearing my ring drives me mad. Watching you in the mornings, with it shining off the light as you talk to our plants is one of my favorite rituals. The way you speak to them with such kindness, such empathy- I cannot wait to raise our children together. A goddess such as yourself will be perfect with them. 

To the blues.

All my love,

~A.

I quickly glance down at my ring once I finish reading his words, immediate feelings of giddiness fill my chest. The perfect moss agate ring sits in a golden crown on my finger. I touch it, remembering the moment Andrew got down on his knee. He is always nervous when it comes to us- but not that day. That day, he was so confident. Bringing me to his hometown, showing me all of the places he used to go as a ‘young lad’ as he’d say. That trip I knew I needed him forever, and I guess he needed me just as much. I watched as he spoke Gaelic with the townsfolk in passing, his voice hitting my ears in such a dreamy way. 

It was when he brought me up to his favorite hill, the one he watched the sunset every day when he lived here, that he asked me to be his. Looking at the setting sun, wrapped in each other's arms, he feigned that he had forgotten something, and got up and started to look around. 

‘Andrew, what’s going on?’ I had said to him. When he turned to me his green eyes were the brightest I’ve ever seen them, I swear. 

‘Love, can you stand for me?,’ he said.

I think subconsciously I knew what was happening, even if I didn’t want to believe it. Tears freely fell from my eyes as he poured his heart and soul out to me, reaching out every so often to wipe a tear or give me a lingering kiss on my forehead. When he finally got down on his knee, I was a sobbing wreck. I can’t remember what he said, just me nodding and practically screaming ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’. 

Now his ring, his beautiful, intricate golden ring just for me sits on my finger. I sit in his chair, even though it’s usually both of us squished into it every night, and play with my ring. I watch as it hits the sunshine and sends dancing light around the room. It’s then, as I’m looking at the light, I notice another small pale blue note. I practically run to it, ready to read more of Andrew’s words. I take a moment once I have it to enjoy the anticipation before I read it.

Once the Gods realize you have escaped with their golden wings I’ll be in so much trouble. 

But, for now, you are mine. Do they know you’re here, love? Did I have it wrong and you were sent just for me? 

I’ll never be sure, but I’ll be eternally grateful for you. 

All my love,

~A. 

He’s trying to kill me I swear to anyone who is listening. It’s never been an act with Andrew, this has always been him. The love and adoration he gives me is unmatched. I can’t help but feel like I’m the luckiest person with him. I finish the rest of my tea, adding my two new notes to my pile that won’t seem to stop growing. 

I make my way to our shared bathroom and am a little surprised when I see another note. He truly thought of everything. I do my morning routine to try and prolong reading his letter, the anticipation is delicious. Once I do finish taking care of myself I carefully peel his note off of the mirror and finally allow myself to read it.

I cannot wait to see those eyes shine just for me. Thinking about it now I swear my heart skips an entire beat. That can’t be healthy, but you- you are my own personal drug. Stronger than all the others there is you. I need you. 

All my love,

~A. 

My eyes scan his letter too many times, taking in the way he writes his t’s and dots his i’s. I take out my phone and pull up my texts to Andrew.

Y/N: I need you as bad as you need me, love. I hope studio time is going well. Come home to me soon. 

A: You are the very air I breathe, my dove. See you soon. 

My heart flutters knowing he’ll be home soon. I decide I’ll stay in his robe and his favorite silk set and surprise him. Confident in that decision, I grab the book I’m currently reading and snuggle back up on our chair while I wait for him. I scroll on my phone for a bit, getting lost in social media for a little too long. Once I finally resign and open my book, a final little blue note falls out onto my lap. I can’t help but laugh, and wonder a little when he even did all of this. I waste no time reading the note. 

In every lifetime, I hope to find you. Our souls are destined to be intertwined throughout the centuries. You are the only one for me. 

I can’t wait to kiss you soon.

All my love,

~A. 

My heart is fully melted. All of his words from this morning play on repeat as I stare at this one note. How can one man be so fucking eloquent? I’m so lost in thought, I don’t hear the front door open or close.

“Dove?” Andrew shouts from the doorway. I’m on my feet in seconds, after all of these notes I missed my man something fierce this morning. He laughs when he sees me, arms outstretched ready for me. “There’s my dove. I hope you liked my notes this morning.” He says to me inbetween interrupting kisses. 

“Loved them? Oh Andrew, you have no idea. You know, I missed waking up to you this morning.” 

“I’m sorry dove, let me make it up to you.” He hoists me up in his arms and quickly kicks off his shoes before walking down the hallway to our bedroom. My laughter echoes in the hall, I’ve never been so in love. 

Masterlist | Taglist

[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 5) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.3k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦?, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

note: i had no idea that i posted this almost an entire WEEK AGO?? istg it was only 2 days ago 😭 sorry for the wait lovlies, here's some unhinged content for you ❤️

the next few weeks passed in a dizzying flurry. work became busy and you got caught up between group work and your personal life—an old friend from college visited town, your mom and dad’s memorial service passed in a flash, and you worked at the halloween costumes, carving a few little pumpkins every now and then as decor for the church stands. the halloween festival was just hours away, and there was another group meeting scheduled just before it.

you dreaded it.

Simon and you had not spoken once outside of the meetings. just polite remarks and a yawning chasm that cleaved the space between you. to say it was awkward was an understatement.

you thought back two weeks prior when you were isolated in the church basement.

you didn’t mean it?

yeah. none of it.

the memory was a splintering reminder that Simon didn’t want you. at least, not in the way you wanted him. retracing the footsteps of your mind over and over, you tried to figure out where you had gone wrong.

maybe from the beginning, you thought bitterly, failing to forget your rude, blunt behavior towards him. you guessed you deserved his treatment, though you didn’t expect him to make fun of you the way that he did.

have you never dated before? do you even know how to kiss someone?

just the thought of it made you wince as you entered the meeting room, later than usual. a dozen faces stared back at you, and Kate stopped mid-talk, eyes narrowed with something only you could decipher as worry. you just mumbled a quick apology, settling in your seat in the circle across from Simon, avoiding his eyes.

Sarah nudged you with her foot in greeting as Kate continued whatever talk she was going on about. out of habit, you half-tuned her out as Maya pat your knee softly.

from what you absorbed out of the random bursts of Kate’s words, the group met early to set up the stalls in front of the church. there’d be a costume rack, photo booth, pumpkin carving booth, face painting, and a couple tables for the bake sale—which wasn’t really a bake sale, but free baked goods because it was sinful to sell on church property, or something like that.

the church did the same events every year so none of it surprised you till Kate was saying, “now get dressed into your own costumes.”

what?

that was definitely new, you realized with a stiffness, looking around the group moving toward the exit of the meeting room with bags of, what you assumed, to be costumes.

when you didn’t budge, Sarah and Maya standing and grabbing their own things, they both paused, giving you curious looks.

Maya called your name in question and you just stayed stock still in your chair, feeling like life was being drained from your blood.

“oh my gosh,” Sarah said, a slow, impish smile spreading over your lips. Kate’s head immediately snapped up from her desk, looking pale and panicked.

“what? what is it?”

Maya pointed at you. “you didn’t bring a costume.”

your voice was high strung and tight. “i didn’t know we needed one.”

Sarah laughed out, long and airy, before gliding out the meeting room, absolutely beside herself.

Kate sounded peeved. “did you not look at the email chain?”

email, you thought, a stale taste in your mouth, who the fuck uses email these days?

Maya offered you a look of sympathy. “maybe run home really quick?”

Kate stood at her desk, just shaking her head. “don’t worry. i planned for this.”

she shooed Maya away and tugged over a plastic box from her desk, popping open the lid. inside it were an array of outfits.

she gestured to it. “pick one.”

sighing, you crouched down and pulled out the first costume that caught your eye—a greenish, white airy dress. turning it around, you realized floppy wings were already sown into the back of it. 

snatching up your purse, you tucked the dress under your arm, about to make a beeline for the bathroom when Kate clutched your elbow, pulling back to her.

with a muffled noise of surprise, your brow furrowed at the pinched look of concern over her face. 

“halloween is your favorite holiday,” she chewed out, “why aren’t you acting like it is?”

“what?” you spluttered. technically, halloween was in two days. the festival happened just prior. 

you could’ve been a smart ass about it, but instead you bit back the retort, because you knew what she meant. usually, you’d be ecstatic the whole month before halloween. but these days, only a circling, endless pit of dread followed you to sleep, and was still there when you woke every morning.

“what’s wrong, hon’?” she pressed and you just shook your head with a laugh, lying through clenched teeth.

“nothing.”

you knew she didn’t believe you for a second because her grip only tightened on your elbow. “is there something going on between you and Simon?”

your gaze widened for a split-second, before you blinked it away, eyes darting away from hers. “of course not.”

she just scoffed. “like hell there’s not.”

you rolled your eyes. “not in the lord’s house, Kate—”

“listen to me,” she said, jerking you closer to her, and you muffled a yelp. “if there’s not something wrong with you, then there’s definitely something wrong with Simon. he was doing better. now he’s… acting strange.”

you cocked a brow at her. “he’s always a bit strange.”

she eyed you in return. “not as strange as how you’ve been acting.”

“ouch. that hurts,” you deadpanned, shaking free from her grip. she relented with a low grumble.

rubbing at her temple, she sighed as you turned from before, stopping you when she said, “just smooth out whatever’s going on between you. he’s going back for work soon.”

your blood ran cold. “what?”

“he won’t be on leave for another couple of months, so i suggest you talk to him today,” she said, moving to her desk. 

you stared after her, wanting to ask more, but bit down on your tongue when a couple girls, chattering between each other, returned from the bathroom.

in their stead, you trudged down the hallway and into the old bathroom with a flickering, artificial lighting burning down overhead. in a stall, you stripped yourself and shimmied into the dress, the cheap fabric grating against your skin, but you wouldn’t complain since this situation had arisen due to your own fault.

moving past a couple other girls by the sinks, exchanging a couple words with them, a genuine smile twisting your lips, but then you looked at yourself in the mirror and almost cringed. the dress was a lot more revealing than you would have ever chosen for yourself in public—hugging at your body in the way your baggy outfits did not.

Iris stepped out of one of the stalls, whistling lowly. “lookin’ good, girlie.”

with a blush, you mumbled a thanks, digging around your purse for your makeup bag that you, thankfully, had shoved into your purse on a whim before work that morning. opening it, you began to apply a thing base, then soft shimmers around your eyes, attempting to look as fairy-like as you could.

“who are you trying to look good for?” Iris asked beside you, squinting into the mirror to brush mascara over her lashes. 

with a bitter feeling, you noticed its brand. dior.

you choked a strained laugh, waving her off. “just the endless line of ladies.”

“right,” she sang, and you flinched when she put down the tube of makeup with a loud clunk against the porcelain sink. “‘cause you and i both know that you’re lesbian.”

you paused at that, brushing away the last bits of powder on your face. through the mirror, the girls behind you, Iris’s friends in the group, had fallen silent. 

you glanced at her through your peripheral. “what do you mean by that?”

she turned to you, lips screwed in a thin line, hand on her hip.

“how long have you been fucking Simon for?”

jaw dropping, and you turned to look at her, taking in the intensity of her hot glare and the angry twitch of her features. 

you should’ve denied it, but remembering the way she clung to Simon after the night of the party, all bashful and talkative with him, your own anger simmered to the surface.

“none of your business,” you said in a cool voice, turning back to the mirror to finish with a light blush over your nose and cheeks.

she scoffed. “you’re a bitch.”

your brows twitched together, and you reached up to rub at the spot, willing it away. “okay.”

she stepped towards you, jerking her hand up so it almost knocked against your face, the tip of her acrylic pressed to your cheek.

“you always complain about how much you hate men, but as soon as you go near one, you’re start fucking them.”

you completely ignored her. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. why do you care about my personal business?”

she laughed, long and mirthless. “because you’re airing it out at every meeting, whore.”

you screwed your eyes shut, an icy feeling churning inside you. this was exactly what you were afraid of when new members joined the group. your simmering anger rose to a boil, and you swallowed the heat down, trying to lock it down in your stomach.

“don’t you have a husband? maybe you should pay more attention to that cheating bastard than a random guy you met at a support group.”

“excuse me?” she seethed, and you couldn’t help but give her your most shit-eating smirk.

“what? too boring being a housewife, doing nothing all day long? fucking men for money—”

the noise she let out was carnal, raking a hand through your hair and jerking on it hard, so your head pulled back with a painful snap. the girls behind you screamed, and a blur of a person rushed forward to clutch tightly at Iris’s neck and push her off you.

“you bitch-ass, motherfucking whore—” 

your jaw dropped at the sight of Maya slamming her against the tile wall, clawing at each other like two rapid cats before Sarah stumbled through the scene from a bathroom stall, screaming bloody murder.

one of Iris’s friends came up and fixed the state of your dress and hair, apologizing profusely for her friend, and you didn’t know whether to be angry at the girl, or thank her, as Iris’s friends scurried out of the bathroom quickly. you felt like you were in a daze, watching Iris drag Sarah by her hair before Sarah reached up and ripped through Iris’s hair so they were locked between each other, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Maya was clutching at the wall, gulping down mouthfuls of air before she limped over and stomped on Iris’s open-toed sandals with a ferocity. she screamed, crumpling to the floor, releasing Sarah from the bind as she fell to her knees.

the three women stilled for a moment, panting with effort. 

“what in the actual fuck…” you trailed off, unsure what to say after the scathing events of the fight.

Sarah’s hands were on her hips, knees looking wobbled as she rasped between gasps, “we couldn’t let this whore bad-mouth you like that.”

she jerked a thumb over at Iris who had braced herself against the floor, leaning over her palms with heavy, gasping breaths.

Maya stumbled over to you, wobbly on her heels, and you enveloped her in a hug, trying to smooth out her hair to the best of your ability.

“you guys…” you started, choking up when tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes. Maya only hugged you tighter and Sarah limped over, cooing softly as she joined the hug, squeezing you tight.

“don’t ruin your makeup,” Maya sniffled against your shoulder, your dress absorbing her tears.

you quickly wiped at your face with a nod, clutching at Maya and your other hand holding Sarah’s cheek.

when Iris stood, leaning against the bathroom sink, the hug broke apart.

she glared at you, clawing the hair from her face. “are you done?”

sending Sarah and Maya a quick glance, you gave them a curt nod, and they obliged, stomping out of the bathroom. Sarah turned to flip Iris off on her way out, the latter girl just rolling her eyes at the sight.

when there was silence once more, you turned to the girl, taking in how disheveled and… normal she looked for once.

“your hair—” you said, pointing to your own head, and she whipped around to look in the mirror. hastily, she scrambled around for her brush but you just sighed and picked up your own on the sink, stilling her with a light grip on her shoulder. you brushed through her brunette curls with a soft hand as she glared at you through the mirror.

“let’s talk,” you offered, putting down the brush when you were done. “and let’s be civilized about it.”

she hmphed, not looking at you. “what is there to even talk about?”

you shrugged. “clearly, something is bothering you.”

“yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “your relationship with Simon.”

you bit back your own retort to remind her that she was married. “we’re just friends.”

her brow quirked at that, looking unconvinced. “really?”

“for now,” you said with a nod, and her shoulders deflated.

“i knew there was something going on,” she said, sounding morose, eyes flickering with a distant haziness.

“you could’ve just asked me,” you sighed out, and her eyes snapped to yours again, flashing with irritation now.

“i did.”

how long have you been fucking Simon for?

at the memory of it, you flinched. “maybe more politely next time.”

she just huffed, brushing out the wrinkles of her witchy dress. “you won’t tell Kate about this?”

you scowled at her before, slowly, your lips twitched into a devilish smirk. her eyes darted nervously through the mirror, inching away from you.

“i won’t, because we played fair and square today.”

“what do you mean?” she chewed out, voice icy.

“you got to talk shit, and my girls fucked you up,” you said with a nasty grin, wholly enjoying when she shivered.

stepping away from you, she cleared her throat. “right.”

it was like she remembered where she was and who she was again, gathering her things and shoving them into her stupidly expensive bag with a poised expression. you watched in amazement at the calm, collected veneer that overtook her in a second, turning on her heel to strut out of the bathroom with an elegance before jumping with a shriek at the entrance.

you quickly trailed after her, rounding up your things in one, sweeping armful and shoving them into your own purse, your eyes moving up the way her spin shook to the sight over her shoulder.

a foot away, a man stood in front of the women’s restroom, a white, plastic skull outer layer over a black balaclava. at the sight of him, you muffled a squeak, bristling with shock.

but then your eyes trailed down to the rest of his attire—a sweatshirt, jeans, boots, and… gloves. skull ones, in fact.

“Simon,” you deadpanned, glaring at him from over Iris’s shoulder, “what the hell are you doing?”

“this is Simon?” Iris shrieked, shuffling backwards, knocking into you.

“i heard screaming,” he said, voice gruff and slightly muffled under the mask. “is everything alright?”

you rolled your eyes. he was a bit late for that.

“everything’s fine,” you confirmed, gently pushing Iris out the doorway. she squeezed past Simon, not giving him or you a second glance as she rushed down the hallway and into the meeting room.

the hulking man stared after her, before turning his head to blink down at you. even under that stupid mask, his big brown eyes were still the same.

“what happened?” he asked and you just shook your head.

“you really don’t want to know.”

he let out a low noise of disapproval and you waved him away, edging forward so he stepped further back into the hallway.

“there is one problem though,” you said, cocking your brow at him.

he stepped forward again, reaching a hand out to you, but you just shook your head again with a huff. “that mask.”

suddenly, his eyes pinched, and he reached up to trace the divets of the outer skull layer.

“what’s wrong with my mask?”

the genuine hurt in his voice had you smothering a smile. “nothing. just not for children. you can’t wear that at a church halloween event.”

he was silent for a long moment, eyes narrowed like he was weighing the pros and cons of what you had just said, before sighing out.

“fine,” he grumbled, unclasping the front of it and pulling off the baclava, leaving his hair slicked up in a strange, messy clump.

biting back a laugh at the sight, you made your way back down the hallway. Simon’s careful footsteps were just behind you as you stepped back into the meeting room.

the girls were loitering around for a bit, gathering up needed materials to set up the booths. Sarah and Maya chattered with the better half of them who were blissfully unaware of what had just gone down in the bathroom. Iris eyed you from her posse carefully, watching you move near Kate with a tenseness, but you just passed her, instead moving to the box of adult costumes. you rummaged around in it, struggling and failing to find any size that may potentially fit the massive man.

groping around at the very bottom, your hand closed around something small and prickly, and you pulled it from the box with a snort, eying it in your hand.

turning around, you shoved it against Simon’s chest, and he didn’t even flinch, just taking the thing from your hand slowly.

“no,” he said immediately.

“it’s the only thing we have,” you said, sighing out, gesturing to the box behind you. Kate looked up from her desk curiously now, eyes flitting between you and Simon, then seeing the thing in his hands and choking down a laugh.

he glared at her from his peripheral, his scowl deep when he tugged it over his head.

a smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed them together, failing to hold back a little giggle at the sight of the tinsel cat ear headband on his head.

“adorable,” you cackled, slapping two hands over your mouth, trying to muffle your laughter beneath your palms but you couldn’t cease the shake of your shoulders.

his scowl only deepened, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grumpy look.

Kate hummed approvingly by your side, failing to keep her voice even. “looks great, lieutenant.”

he shot both of you a glare before slinking away and taking a seat nearby, but not before he was flanked by some of the girls fussing over his costume. they insisted on painting a nose and whiskers on him in loud, sharp demands and he didn’t even try to hide their irritation with them. but nonetheless, he relented, and Sarah pulled out her liquid eyeliner.

you watched the whole scene with shaking trembles of silent laughter, crumpling into a seat near you, and he kept glaring at you from his peripheral. once your laughter subsided, you leaned back into your chair, the sight of the girls pester him, full of laughter, and the smallest smile stretching Simon’s face had your chest feeling full of gooey content. he lazily looked over to you, a small black nose and whiskers across his cheeks, dark eyes sparkling as his warm gaze ran over you.

cute, you mouthed, pointing at your own cheeks and he just scoffed, turning his gaze from you, but his smile only widened.

yeah this part's kinda crazy (and maybe borderline cringe?) but iris had it coming for her so idkkkk—

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife @froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths @ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu @embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99 @mystseee @cosmoscoffee

@hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdream @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @thisuserloveshalloween @soundsfunbutno @enfppixie @tired-bi-ass @http-paprika @xaestheticalien @vonev @garfieldssocks @sapphire-read @moonstonedeluluera @killergoddess97 @cassiecasluciluce @xxkay15xx @mrflyingbanana03

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[seventeenpins]

friends i am ~zooted~ and managed to post and promptly delete my response to this but THANK GOODNESS I'd screenshot it 🙏 thank you @sp00kymulderr for the ask, you KNOW i'm a freak for sub!joel* 💕 *this is a bit more sub!joel adjacent but i hope it scratches that itch!

pairing: joel miller x reader wordcount: 601 content: edging, choking, sub!joel/brat!joel, a WHOLE lotta breeding kink, literally just smut a/n: shoutout to @ems-chaos-corner for being my brain when mine was out of commission

send me a drabble prompt?

Joel is writhing beneath you, sweat-slicked skin glowing in the surge of the waning daylight. His hair is a mess, plastered to his forehead, one loose curl bobbing aloft with every heave of breath.

"You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart," he pants, eyes screwed shut in concentration.

"Sweetheart," you echo back, "If you're dead, I don't get to use you. But I promise, this next time I cum, you get to cum with me."

His responding moan is nearly a whimper, building to a growl as you seat yourself back on him.

You've been edging him for hours. You're not going to admit it but you're impressed. You've cum half a dozen times already, on his face, his fingers, twice on his cock, but still; all it takes is one little shake of your head. Just one little "did I say you could cum?" and he somehow powers through and fucks up into you, rutting like a goddamn animal as you ride him through another wave.

This is the most vocal you've ever gotten him, and he's cute all pussy drunk. You know you should probably let him cum soon, but you do want to enjoy him like this for as long as you possibly can. Most of what he's saying is just please please please- but now it gets even more desperate, begging like you've never heard, pressing all the right buttons.

"C'mon sweetheart, please, You feel so damn perfect clenchin' round me like that, gushin' on me like a faucet, baby, please let me cum-- Wanna bust so deep in ya you're still full o' me for days-"

It's your absolute kryptonite, hearing him talk like this, and he knows it. You're gonna cum again, you're already close. You need to draw it out, though, to pull this orgasm out of him, finally, slowly and surely so that when it finally builds to a peak, it makes him see the fucking stars-

"Shut up, Joel-" you plead, and the man has the audacity to grin. You know he can feel the way you're balancing on the edge, how your cunt is squeezing him.

He's so fucking pretty, cupping your jaw gently as he smirks up at you. His other hand is holding you by the waist, grasping at your flesh to rock into a rhythm. He's matching your thrusts, pulling you so so deep when your hips meet, grinding his pubes against your swollen clit.

"Oh, you want that, honey? Want me to get deep up in there? Want me to fuckin' flood you with my cum? I'm gonna pump so much into ya, it has to take. Sure feels like that's what you want, the way you're squeezin'-"

You need to shut him up.

The hand you'd tangled in his hair releases, and for a moment, he relaxes. Then you wrap it around his neck. The way he moans makes your stomach flip, another gush of arousal adding to the slipperiness between you. Your eyes flutter shut as you focus just on the sensation, drawing it out just that tiny bit longer-

Apparently, choking is equivalent to a mute button on Joel. You think he likely still has the ability to form words. What he lacks is the capacity. He isn't silent, though. He's grunting, feral but dazed.

"I like you so much better with my hand around your throat," you tell him.

You cum together, his tongue in your mouth, hands grasping all along your body as he pulls you tight and doesn't let go till he's emptied his balls and fucked it in deeper.

[unknownperson246]

Can you write a smut with older izzy and he has a breeding kink 🙏

Hii I hope you enjoy it

Modern Izzy Stradlin: Let Me Do My Thing

Words: 631

warnings: *smut* *fluff* *p in v* *cussing* *daddy kink* *spanking* *breeding kink* *age gap* *cussing* *slight degradation*

You were in the bedroom with Izzy. He was inviting you in his lap. You accept his invitation and sit down in his lap. 

“Lay down, I want your ass facing up,” Izzy says.

His hands start to rub your ass. His hands slide your jeans down. His hand lingers on your ass before he starts spanking you. 

“You know what to call me baby” He smirks.

“Daddy” You cry as he spanks your ass dozens of times.

You start to squirm around on his lap. 

“Stay still slut” He laughs.

“Daddy please go slower” You cry out. 

“Shh it's almost over, baby,” He says smiling.

After he is done spanking you he pushes you on the floor. “Stay still,” He says.

He takes his pants off and pushes you up to the bed. He comes closer to you with his cock. He starts to approach you. He places his cock inside of you without any warning. His hips grind with yours. 

“Im going to fuck a baby into your filthy cunt” He whispers in your ear.

The idea of him getting you pregnant was turning you on.

“Oh, daddy I would love to be pregnant with your babies” You coo.

Izzy's hands get tighter on your waist. His hips were aggressively rolling to yours. You could feel his hard cock thrusting inside of you.

“Daddy I want your babies” You cry out.

“Don't worry you're going to have daddy's babies soon” He smirks.

You start to aggressively scratch Izzys' back harder.

His dick keeps hitting your soft spot over and over again. 

“I'm going to knock you up with my baby for sure now.” Izzy moans

“Just come for me and let me fill you up with my kid” Izzy groans.

You let him keep hitting your g spot.

You start to squirm and shriek as soon as you feel like you're going to come.

“Daddy I’m almost there” You sigh and moan.

Your pussy clenches around his cock and your legs start to shake. Tears form in your eyes and your eyesight goes blurry. You finally have your orgasm around his cock. You still felt Izzy's cock thrusting on your g spot. You thought you would have another orgasm if he kept thrusting in you. Izzy's head goes back. 

“Just let me do my thing i'm almost there.” Izzy moans

You could feel his wet load traveling up in you. He pulls out of you.

“Just keep all of my seed in you and let it do its work” He smirks.

He puts one finger in you to make sure none of his seed goes to waste.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

It's been a couple of months since you and Izzy have had sex. You have been feeling nauseous and tired lately. It just keeps getting worse and worse over the days. You don't think anything of it. You soon go to the store and buy a handful of pregnancy tests. You drink two cups of water and wait till you have to piss. You go to the bathroom and you piss on the stick. After fifteen minutes of pacing around you look back to the stick. It's positive. You start to smile. You don’t want to surprise Izzy, you just go and tell him.

“Izzy it's positive,” You say smiling after handing him the test.

He takes a good look at the test. He stands there in silence for a couple of minutes before finally speaking.

“We're going to have a baby,” He says smiling. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and he kisses your forehead. He wraps his arms around you.

“Thank you for giving me a baby”  He coos in your ear.

You both go out to eat dinner and celebrate the new addition to your guys’s family

[mothergold]

| You and I | 

Pairing: Albedo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Breeding Kink, Afab!Reader, Fem!Reader, He/Him Pronouns for Albedo, No pronouns for Reader, Reader is called a good girl, Dubcon(?), Feral!Albedo, Albedo is Reader’s Husband, Pregnancy is mentioned quite a bit, Lowkey Selfship Coded lol, Overstimulation, 1.2k words. 

Summary: You’ve been laying down hints for awhile that you want kids, and Albedo finally takes the initiative one evening. 

A/n: I want Albedo to put a baby in me <3

Tags: @suyacho @neuvillettes @themovingcastlez @tighnarly

It’s five in the evening, and instead of catching up with your husband about your day, you are being stuffed full of his cock. In the same king sized bed that you both laid on and talked about having a family of your own, but instead of shaky hands interlocking and soft voices whispering sweet nothings, there was just you being shoved into the mattress while your husband’s cock throbbed within your walls. 

“Al-Albedo.” You whined.  

Albedo’s body was pressed up against your back, pushing you firmly into the bed, while his hands forced your hips into place,making sure you didn’t move a single inch without his permission. You’d lost count of the amount of times he’d cum inside of you by now, it must’ve been a dozen times, but again, you weren’t keeping count. Although, by how sore you were and the combination of your dizziness and about a billion other things overstimulating you, you had to guess this had gone on for quite some time. 

You could feel his hot breath fan against your back, feel the way he so easily slid in and out of you, but most of all you couldn’t escape the feeling of his cum spilling out of you the moment he pulled out entirely. You gasped at the sudden sensation but before you could cry those pathetic tears, Albedo had leaned off of you slightly and stroked the side of your face, hushing you softly as he did. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Just take it. That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He whispered into your ear. 

You had no choice but to listen to him, you couldn’t even get up if you tried with how weak and wobbly your legs were. Not to mention he was still pinning you to the bed, but not for long. Before you knew it he had carefully gotten off of you, sat up, and slowly flipped you onto your back. Both of your eyes met and he smiled at you briefly. Then, he leaned down, positioning himself in between your legs, pulling you down by your thighs until you were positioned in the right spot. He leaned down and tilted your chin up so he could kiss you, this time with tongue. 

Usually, Albedo would’ve asked you for a signal that you were ready, but impatience got the better of him and without asking he slid back inside of your warm cunt. The both of you groaned at the sudden intrusion. Without giving you time to adjust Albedo continued thrusting inside of you, repeating a prayer of ‘I’m sorry’s’ as he did. He held you down as he thrust himself into you at a brutal speed. Before you even realized it he had you in a mating press, thrusting deeply into you as you cried in his arms. You didn’t beg him to stop, tell him how you were sore or tired. No, instead you begged for him to fuck you harder and faster. You pleaded for Albedo to fill you with his cum, fuck you till the only thing you craved was his cock. 

“F-fuck, baby that f-feels so good.” You moaned, stuttering on nearly every word as you shivered in pleasure. “Want you to fill me with y’er cum, get me pregnant, baby. Please?” You asked in the midst of your desperation.

You didn’t have to say another word, because Albedo had already begun pushing himself further into you (or at least he would’ve if he wasn’t already snug deep inside of you) and digging his nails into the plush of your skin. He threw his head back and let out a broken moan, still pounding into you as if he’d never felt the touch of another person. With every thrust inside of you, he clawed at your flesh like a wild animal tearing apart its meal. As you clamped down onto his length once more, Albedo couldn’t help but begin to lose control, little by little those stars in his eyes grew bigger and brighter than before. 

“Fuck, baby. Gonna get you so fuckin’ pregnant. Fuck yes.” Albedo moaned, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress the embarrassing whimpers that were hiding underneath his tongue. 

It only took a couple more pumps inside of you, a few more pleadings from the both of you, in order for him to release his load inside of you. You could feel all that pent up frustration being unleashed onto you. And as he stilled his hips, forcing you down all the way onto his cock, you remember the dizziness you felt and the way in which you never wanted this feeling to end. So, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him further inside of you, or at least you tried to. Begging with tears in your eyes for what the two of you shared to never end, you rocked your body against his. Thrusting up to meet his hips, skin touching skin, and a symphony of moans later, Albedo found himself cumming inside of you yet again.

“F-uckkkk.” He moaned loudly, throwing his head back as he continued pounding into you in full desperation. “Tha-That’s it.. Take it, take it all.”

You’d never seen this side of Albedo before, and you loved it. You loved feeling his cock bully your insides, the way his usually gentle hands were now forcing you into the mattress, and especially how his body pinned you against the bed making it impossible for you to escape. You loved it, fuck did you love it. Albedo was usually so gentle and careful with you, but this time he manhandled you, took total control, and nothing got you more excited than that. 

A couple moments passed and your highs had now faded into a blissful quietness and gentle, shaky touches. The moment was perfect, sensual, and overall peaceful. It was the perfect end to a rather thrilling evening. There was a moment of comfortable silence before Albedo finally spoke up, turning to you with a soft smile.

“So, how’re you feelin’?” He asked in a genuine tone. 

You smiled and allowed your fingers to crawl up the side of his body and around the curve of his back. “Amazing. You?” You replied.

He let out a dreamy sigh as he stroked the side of your face, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m wonderful, but I’ll be even happier once I know you’re pregnant.”

His bluntness threw you off for a moment, immediately you became flustered and tried hiding your expression from him. “P-Pregnant?! I mean. Albedo, I-” 

He silenced you with a kiss and pulled away finally with a big smile, looking you deep into your eyes. “You’re so flustered and yet–” He tilted your head to get a better look at your face. “You weren’t against this earlier.” 

You were too stunned for words, you didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but you were far too embarrassed by how much you both feared and enjoyed the thought of having kids. So, for now you’d let him tease you, laugh along with him, and hope to god this little plan of yours worked. 

[boyfhee]

› HOW TO GET BACK WITH YOUR EX : five do's and don'ts

SYNOPSIS · You were all in for a new start; a new city, new apartment, new department and new colleagues— though, not under the best circumstances— you tried to make it through your early thirties while lost between whether to give up or go on, and then you meet Heeseung, who happens to be on the other end of the same street.

WC · 26.2K ( guys pls give this a chance )

GENRE · melodrama, angst, slice of life, romance, exes to ?

WARNINGS · lots of drinking, marriage talks, mentions of failed relationship and breakups; implications of sexual activity, very existential, mentions of suicidal thoughts, blood, lot's of tense changes ( since this transits between past and present a lot ) please read at your own discretion.

NOTE · i know i'm on hiatus but this was almost done and i had a sudden burst of motivation so here we are. my longest fic till date, i'm so proud of how this turned out. experimented a little with my writing style here, overall a fun experience. i hope you all enjoy this as much as i did, happy reading. ps the quote below is actually by john mark green, but let's assume it's written by hee for the sake of this fic. okay, good bye again, see you guys soon :›

playlist : tune in for better experience hehe

“ And if love may be madness, may I never find sanity again, ”

— Lee Heeseung, Red Wine

I.  Regret and Remorse

You don’t think you’ll ever become someone who’d look forward to the working experience that comes with job transfer. In fact, you don’t think you’d ever become someone who’d grow a liking to job transfer in the first place. 

Autumn of 2022 was supposed to be filled with vacation plans and a self-sobriety program in one of the many remote towns of Gangwon, away from the internet and daily complaints of your employer and family members. To put it simply— you’re tired of the life you’ve been living so far. Looking back, when you were a fresh graduate from one of the best universities of Incheon, life seemed to offer more opportunities than it does now. Your goals weren't any different from other people in the same age group as you, which majorly consisted of getting a job that pays well, maintaining financial security, getting into a good relationship, and perhaps visiting a few places on your travel list that you made in your first year of university. The idea of ‘ideal workplace’ leaves your mind the moment you step into the industry. Over time, you’ve realised that there’s no such thing as a job that fits to your liking and pays well, along with a hundred other benefits ranging from covering medical expenses to providing paid leaves. While that may apply to some, most of the crowd isn’t lucky enough to experience the luxuries of their dream job or workplace. Unfortunately, you happen to be just another person of that kind. 

You wake up, it’s the same old Monday morning— and no matter what day it is, it always feels like a Monday morning. You look through your same seven sets of office attires in your closet and pick one for the day; you go to the kitchen and find the same dish you had last night. You heat it up and eat the same for breakfast. Albeit, you find yourself at a cafe downstreet if you’re hoping for a change of scenery. You go to work, review the same old files, look at your same old colleagues and the same old boss who makes your blood boil. You aren’t the most sociable person and prefer to have lunch at the canteen, and coincidently, it’s the same old menu from four days ago. The day proceeds in the same old direction and you arrive at your apartment by six in the evening if your team leader doesn’t make you work overtime. You make dinner, sleep on the same old bed in the same old room with the same old feeling of dissatisfaction stuffing your stomach, and the same old cycle continues. 

Intellectually, there has been no progress— you've read scarcely half a dozen books, haven't made one new, exciting friend, haven't had a starling or unusual thought. Economically, things are no better— same old bills to pay, same old pay that hasn't been increased over years now. You get your paycheck and half of it goes into buying necessities. It's the same old job, same old routine of nine-to-five workdays, the cheese and ham salad for lunch, same dreary ride home. No change, nothing but routine, sameness, monotony— it's as if you're vegetating.

If you could go back in time and meet yourself when you were still a college freshman with high hopes and even higher aspirations, you would tell yourself to stop. Now that you’ve seen how the world works and have experienced the stagnancy of life, you wouldn’t want your young and carefree self to go through the pain of disappointment after encountering it yourself. You would instead tell yourself to switch fields since finance doesn’t seem to have a lot to offer. Instead, you would push your past self to go for liberal arts when you suddenly wanted to switch majors in the second year. Perhaps, in that case, your life would’ve been a tad bit better. 

Well, better than what it is now, at least, because currently, you’re sitting in the living room of your new apartment with a beer can in hand and tons of unpacked boxes around you. You’ve been thinking of unpacking for over an hour now, but every time your eyes land upon another beer, you’re back on the floor, chugging the drink down and regretting your life choices. Things would’ve been better if you had turned in your resignation instead of waiting till the last week of July for your pay; because now it’s August, and you’re in a new city with a new apartment, and the only thing you remember is the way to the nearest seven-eleven store from your apartment. You don’t want to think of this negatively, really, since you’ve been asking for a change, after all; and nothing is better than starting anew in a completely new location. However, you don’t want to work in the sales department when all you’ve ever worked about is finance. You don’t want to go through the pain of getting lost in the streets and chased by some dog, for you’re hitting thirty and you feel your bones cracking. You wanted a new start, however not in this field. A new start, for you, meant going on a vacation, detoxifying your mind off all the stress and tension, picking up a hobby, focusing on self-care— just anything that would help you change your views about life.   

Your silent remorseful session is interrupted by a knock on the door, and you’re certain you heard a doorbell, however you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol playing with your mind or whether someone is actually waiting at your doorstep. Forcing yourself to stand up, you stumble towards the door, the sudden decrease in blood pressure leaves a hint of dizziness as you step forward. Since you’ve just moved in, expecting anyone besides mails and landlord is pointless. While you remember having a friend living in the same city, you never told her your address so it’s unlikely for her to visit you either. You stand before the door, fixing your hair before moving down to the creases on your shirt as you unlock the door with a forced smile; and the time ceases to exist. 

“Hi,” Heeseung mumbles. 

You step aside to let him in, involuntarily— “Hi,” you breathe out before stressing your mind to come up with a reason for letting him inside. Could it be that you’re so lonely that now, you’re treating your ex as just someone you’ve been expecting to see? Maybe not, maybe it’s because you just moved in and despite the notes that you both ended on, it would be disrespectful to shut the door on someone who came with seemingly all good intentions. 

His steps are laced with hesitation. There’s a Château Margaux in his hands as you notice his fingers nervously tighten around the bottle before he turns around, albeit you avoid his gaze actively. “I heard someone moved in so I came to meet,” A pause, and then: “Didn’t know it was you.” 

He puts emphasis on the word as if it’s a bad thing. As if you’re an outsider trying to invade his peaceful life yet again, only to cause mayhem. However, the question is, had you known that Heeseung lives here, would you have moved in? Or, would you continue to live knowing Heeseung is your neighbour and that you would possibly see him for the rest of your life? You don’t know the answer to that one— not sure if you even want to find one, in fact. The last thing you need is to worry about bumping into an ex. You gesture at him to take a seat and to your surprise, he sits on the floor, exactly where you were having your drinking session before he came along. You grab the wine glasses from the kitchen before making your way back to the living room and sitting opposite to him. There’s a heavy tension in the air, one that is suffocating both of you, though you’re sure a major part of it is arising from you. After all, you let him inside as if he was an old friend, one that you were hoping to see, as if he isn’t your ex. 

Heeseung and you got together in your second year of university. You met him through a mutual friend on their birthday when they invited a few people from another department. You didn’t plan to go initially, you had presentations to make, but something inside of you prompted you to give in and had it not been for that day, you would’ve never come across Lee Heeseung in your life. The first time you met him at the bar, Heeseung seemed to be a heavy drinker— droopy eyes, messed up hair, a few things written on the palm of his hands— he didn’t even come across as someone who paid attention during lessons. However, much to your surprise, he excused himself early, sitting outside with a can of cold coffee he got from the vending machine in his hand while reading what seemed like economics notes compiled in pdf format. Perhaps, Heeseung knew he came off as a showoff when you found him chugging down his drink in an attempt to erase whatever effect alcohol could have on him. 

You sat next to him and all of a sudden, he started explaining how he doesn’t usually dip in the middle of gatherings with friends and step out to study. He simply happens to have a test the next day and his friends dragged him along. Simultaneously, you learnt that it was his first time drinking despite and he swore not to drink anything that wasn’t caffeine. It was nice, really; while Heeseung was busy worrying that you might dislike him for being such a show off, you were enjoying your time with him because in the end, you weren’t a big fan of drinking with your friends either. The two of you talked about wasted matters, complained about subjects and teachers, shared social media handles. It was fantastical, almost unreal, because you don’t remember the last time you clicked with someone so quickly. You didn’t have impressive social skills to initiate conversations, which consequently resulted in you being left out most of the time. It didn’t really matter since relationships and all were secondary at that time, for you had a set goal to work towards. You had always believed that people can make friends and fall in love anytime. However, life gives you just once chance to achieve your dreams. Disconnecting from the public didn't have any effect since you got your work done. While your friends wasted their nights at clubs, you spent it studying and completing assignments. You never felt the lack of friends and interactions eating you slowly. The loneliness didn’t hit you until you graduated with hands full of bills to pay and responsibilities to handle. 

After that night, you started seeing Heeseung more than usual. Despite being in different majors and completely different schedules, you saw him at the campus more often than you used to. It was as if he was always there, waiting for you to find him. Despite changing Twitter and Instagram handles, the two of you barely talked. There was no communication except interacting with each others’ posts, leaving a comment every now and then, tagging each other in stories. You would mutter a soft hello every time you’d bump into him and if fate allowed, you’d have a small conversation. There was no progress in your relationship until a few months after your first meeting, at one of the fests hosted by the Art Department. You had no one to visit with and Heeseung wasn’t interested until you came across him in the library, taking down notes of the lectures he had missed. He asked if you wanted to visit the fest, much to your surprise, and that was the first time you had hung out with Heeseung after knowing him for five months. 

“You seem excited for work,” It’s a question that leaves you confused until your eyes land upon the stacks of files and documents lying stray on the kitchen counter. The next thing you notice is that Heeseung’s voice has gotten a lot deeper, possessing all the necessary qualities of a voice a hiring manager would want to hear in interviews. 

“Do I?” You offer a rhetorical response, not knowing exactly what to say. For a brief second, you considered pouring yourself more drink and going off about your lethargic and unfruitful lifestyle. A chuckle falls off your lips as you stir the wine in its glass, feeling the weight shift from left to right before chugging the remaining liquid down. “I hate my job,”

You pour yourself another glass. Heeseung’s fingers flinch watching your hands reach for the bottle but he didn’t dare interrupt your actions. Another second passes in silence, another sip of wine hits your system. You feel fatigue fill your sinuses as you fight off sleep for another hit— another line of thoughts.  

You can go on for days, complaining about your job, despite knowing that looking down on your work and throwing shade on your boss isn’t going to get you anywhere in life. But at the end of the day, you have nothing else to talk about either. While your colleagues spent weekends drinking, going on dates, and watching movies, you worked your ass off to finish off a project and get a promotion; because promotions come with an increase in pay, and the thing you need the most at the moment is money. Even in school and universities, you used to spend your days and nights studying hard because in the end, the employers from big companies always look for candidates from the top universities, students who graduated with high honours and those who have a lot to offer to the market. Graduating from one of the best universities in Korea in your department should’ve helped you get a high paying job with several benefits. You didn’t lack knowledge, nor did you lack the brains to tackle the problems in finance. You graduated on top of your class so your educational qualifications weren’t below the bar either. If it comes down to experience, one can not expect a fresh graduate to have work experience. In the end, you’re left with the lack of information once again, not knowing why your life turned out this way when every step you took ensured success. 

“Then, why don’t you try doing something that you like?” Heeseung suggests, twirling the glass in his hand, unknowingly mirroring your actions. While he thinks he’s doing a good job at keeping the conversation going, Heeseung knows his advice isn’t worth a penny. Imagine telling a full-time employee to quit their job and do what they like! He thinks to himself, almost ready to take his words back, because he can’t even imagine himself doing the same thing for the sake of a better life. 

“You can’t depend on your likes and dislikes to make a living,” You chuckle yet again, voice laced with bitterness. Failure and disappointment were something you never had tasted until now. You remember the dissatisfaction you felt when your mother gave you sliced apples when you told her you were hungry. You refused to eat, but your mother said that when you’re starving, you don’t look for food that suits your taste. You just eat whatever you get; and thinking about it now, you think it applies to practical life as well. Survival in this world isn’t possible if you depend upon your preferences. Humans have the ability to adapt to various situations, and the key to adaptation is working under different circumstances, often that don’t suit your preferences. That is how you secure your position in the world. If things revolved around one’s likes and dislikes, you sure would’ve been a billionaire for you love to stay on your couch all day and dislike capsicums. 

“What about you?” You counter with the same question. “You look even more tired than how you were in university.” Now, your attention is on his dark circles and weary eyes. The Heeseung you remember from university was phenomenal, having an urge to do anything and everything. His eyes searched for opportunities, hands aching to work on something new. His never ending passion and a desire to know more made him an ideal figure for the juniors as well as someone who the seniors used to envy. However, the eyes of the Heeseung sitting in front of you are telling a whole nother story. They’re talking about the good times while his hands look tired from having a lot on his plate with no time for himself. 

“Work load,” Heeseung sighs, eyes fixed on his drink as he continues to twirl it around. Your gaze shifts to the corner of his lips, watching them curl into a faint smile. “Do you remember how we used to spent weekends hunting for part time—”

And then a pause. Your eyes avert to his’, meeting him in the line of contact; they resonate with just two emotions— regret and respect. You fail to decipher the meaning behind his gaze, you lost the ability to do so years ago. He presses his lips into a thin line, pressing his fingers against the glass in an attempt to suppress his emotions before looking away from you. The comforting silence suddenly weighs upon your shoulders with its hands around your neck, suffocating you to the point of breathlessness; and then you ask yourself— what am I doing? The clock strikes seven and it didn’t hit you how quickly the time flowed until everything dawned upon you. Once again, you’re left questioning your whats and whys about life, for after all, you didn’t expect to spend your evening drinking with your ex. You notice splatters of rain against your window pane as they blur the golden glow of the city scape behind. The rain falls louder, the room fills with the sound of clouds rumbling, you take another sip of wine— it takes you back to your days with Heeseung. 

You don’t know if it’s alcohol blurring your paths down the memory lane, but a part of job hunting with Heeseung also included applying for the same part-jobs and competing so see who gets hired. Although, both of you ended up receiving a polite rejection most of the time, it didn’t affect your relationship. Actually, you don’t think anything regarding job interviews or grades affected your relationship with him. It was a good, healthy race, one that allowed both of you to grow as individuals, for yourselves and for each other. There were days when you came home with the news about getting hired, only to know how his application was rejected or he was fired, and vice-versa. You both took your turns comforting each other— it didn’t feel like your life was any different from his. In fact, every second with Heeseung felt as if you both were living the same life. Watching him go through the exact same thing you went through a few weeks ago, or finding yourself in the same situation you found him merely a few nights ago; it was like watching just another version of yourself.  

Seconds catapult before you. Heeseung gets up and makes his way towards the door. No words are shared, the world is spinning too quickly, it gets harder and harder for you to retrace your steps to figure out how you ended up here. His name falls off your lips— it’s not louder than a soft whisper. You don’t know why you stopped him in his tracks. Is it intentional? Is it involuntary? Or is it because you were hoping for something else? You would never know, at least not now. Months expanded into years and the time when you dated Heeseung still feels like yesterday. It’s as if you woke up— there is his face next to you, the sunlight offering a soft golden glow to his eyes as they light up your whole words. His lips meet yours, a smile emerges under the tender kiss, Heeseung tells you he loves you and you couldn’t be happier. The day rolls by, your steps follow him everywhere he goes, breaths mingling into each other in secluded corners of streets, hidden from the world because it’s a love to be harboured in secrecy. Your hands intertwine with his. It’s two souls living as one, two hearts beating in synchrony. The night rolls by and you’re back in his arms, a little closer to heart, deeper into his mind. The moon sighs in admiration, night slips through his feather light touches as he traces every inch of your skin with love. The sun comes up— and suddenly you’re exes. You never had enough time to process his departure from your life, just the way you failed to process his impromptu arrival this evening. Heeseung is in front of you like the way he used to be. However, just like the first time, the universe agreed but the stars never aligned, and Heeseung is leaving once again as you fail to hold onto him one more time.

“Why don’t you resign if you don’t like your job?” Heeseung stops by his door, and you realise the words that leave his mouth are the same ones that people throw at you whenever they hear you complain about your work life.

“I was about to, but was transferred here. Thought I should give it a try before quitting.” While that doesn’t sound like the most convincing reason, it sure is a plausible one. You had been looking for a change— any change— and throwing away the chance to have one while it had been in your hand would be a bad decision, no matter how unfavourable it sounds at the moment.   

“Doesn’t that sound familiar? When I confessed, you said you weren’t sure about your feelings but would give it a try,” There’s a faint smile on his face, albeit you aren’t able to perceive the meaning behind his words. “I’m sure it’ll turn out better,” 

You take a step towards the door before shutting it completely. You don’t know why he said that, nor do you think you’ll ever get the chance to ask him. Perhaps you wouldn’t ask him willingly in the first place. You turn around, leaning against the door as a sigh escapes your lips. Heeseung has his own life, and so, his own views on different things. If he resents you, you’re in no position to try and change that for him. You don’t think you’re in a position to interfere with his life when you decided to walk out of it in the first place.

If regret was his part to play, then remorse was yours. 

II. Don’t be a ‘know it all’ 

Drinking with Heeseung feels like yesterday, when in fact, you haven’t seen him in four days. 

Life is busy, and it’s even busier for someone like Heeseung who works as a chartered accountant if your memories from last evening aren’t defying you. You can’t imagine yourself in that position, not like you want to in the first place. Excel sheets and tons of documents about taxes are all you could think of when you hear anything along the lines of accountancy, which is intolerable to you, given that you’ve majored in finance, ironically. 

A lot of things in your life are contradicting, actually. You don’t like to cook but cooking for close friends is something you’ve always loved. Examples follow, and at one point you realised that your life barely makes sense. Expectations from friends and relatives made you a try hard, so much that anything less than a perfect score made you feel suffocated. People had desires and interest in certain things, but you needed to be good at everything, and saying that it was for yourself would be a lie, because you had to set an example of an ideal person in front of your younger siblings. Your parents were strict to you and it didn’t feel unfair. You were ten when you saw your mother cry because of all the financial burden, but she had to be the perfect mother for her children, so you never saw her complain ever again. Fifteen year old you didn’t have a goal in mind but she knew that there’s a path ahead of her that leads her siblings on the right track, towards a better future, and so she took it— no aims and dreams of herself, just whatever she could’ve done for her brothers. It was hard at first but the formula to success was easy— hardwork and determination, and all you had to do was avoid distractions. Again, the reality didn’t hit you until you met Heeseung. 

It was as if you were both her two sides of the same coin. Persistence flowed in both of your veins, but every time you looked at him, you realised that he enjoyed everything he was doing. Heeseung enjoyed waking up at four, going out for a jog, attending classes, job hunting, staying up till two or simply not sleeping on some nights. Even on the darkest of the days and coldest of the nights, you would see Heeseung looking at you with a warm smile. He always managed to find a reason to smile, or make a situation humorous enough to make others smile as well. You don’t know how he did that, you never had the chance to ask, but you’re certain that even if he told you, you wouldn’t understand. Heeseung’s principles of living were beyond your comprehension— staying up late yet waking up right when dawn breaks, buying books but never really reading them, researching articles on topics that don’t concern your subjects even marginally— but that’s just his curiosity getting the best of him. 

Often, he’d find himself amidst a financial conflict like any other college student, but it never had an impact on his desires, and he used to say, ‘A sale wouldn’t wait for me to pay my bills so that I can buy my favourite shirt with the money left,’ as if his rent was going to pay itself. If someone asks about the biggest difference between him and you, it’s about desires. You suppress yours while Heeseung lives them like it’s the last time he could ever wish for something. You believe in the cause, while Heeseung did in curiosity, and that’s where it creates a line. Though lately, you’ve been hearing other things about him, new things, if you must say. 

The landlord told you about the Heeseung who’s quiet, who doesn’t leave his house until it’s about work, who eats the same menu for days until his system demands something new, who now has been prescribed actual specs because of his family history of hypermetropia. You find yourself smiling about it because back in university, Heeseung used to brag about his perfect vision, and you would say, ‘family health history is no joke. you take that shit down to your grave,’ and now when it has actually happened, you wonder what he has to say. Hearing stories about him made you realise that a lot of things changed, but Heeseung didn’t. Maybe, the situation demands him to live vegetatively, or maybe he’s saving up for a bigger plan. 

“They say you’re a loner,” You had said one time when you bumped into him on the lift. “That you never leave your apartment except for work,” 

Much to Heeseung’s surprise, a lot of things changed after he entered his thirties, the most prominent being his back pain, which may or may not have arisen from the lack of workout and constantly sitting in front of his desk for hours. He would smile at plants or sit by the balcony, watching the city being ever so lively and yet so monotonous. Afternoon naps became mandatory to continue proficiently for the rest of the day and before he realised, Heeseung became the old man of every highschool student’s imagination. Truthfully, he spent his first few months after graduation in his room, amidst sketching pencils and loose sheets. While other fresh graduates hunted for jobs or ways to fill their resume to fit the companies’ requirements, he spent his early months as an unemployed lad who graduated with top honours from one of the best universities in Korea. For the first time in life, he found himself looking at his ceiling and wondering, what’s next. Heeseung, who always had a plan for something despite seeming reckless, was about to step into adulthood with no plans to follow. 

“I guess I’ll be that,”

He was back in your apartment, same wine in his hand, same old complaints. It’s been quite a few weeks since you’ve moved in and Heeseung always finds himself in your living room at noons when he doesn’t sleep, making small talk about topics that usually stir a little interest. You haven’t had the time to go out with your colleagues and make new friends or explore the city, which gives you a perfect excuse to see Heeseung and call it socialising. Not to mention, you’ve been introducing him to your previous workmates as the ‘new friend’ you’ve made in the new place. 

“We both know you’re not that,” You continue, recalling all the reasons why Heeseung isn’t how people around describe him to be. 

“No one is the same after actually getting a life,” He replies while going through his emails, scrolling down with one hand before placing the wine glass by his side and proceeding to type something. “Look at yourself, for example,” 

You don’t know whether it’s a compliment or an insult. Perhaps the latter, albeit the chances of him noticing a good difference in you are low but never zero. Your eyes fix on his fingers, following them as he types something before clearing it all, and then typing all over again while mumbling the exact same words with an expression ranging from confusion to worry. You reconsider his words, he isn’t half wrong. 

Adulthood is climacteric. You think you’re an adult the moment you turn eighteen but in reality, you aren’t one until you’re in a position to make it through life profoundly, and ironically enough, you don’t think most people get a taste of adulthood until they hit their late twenties or enter their thirties. Your mind traces back to what he said— ‘yourself, for example,’ and suddenly, you become conscious of every single thing that has changed about you. You learnt piano but now your fingers don’t flow smoothly over the keys as they used to, given you haven’t played piano in years. You were a part of the science club in highschool and the student council president in your senior year. You wanted to go into aeronautics but seasons changed and one day, you looked in the mirror and saw the version of yourself who was about to graduate with honours in finance. Even after graduation you had a chance to switch fields but you didn’t, or rather, couldn’t. You were hired in the same year, which gave you even more reasons to continue since it would relieve your dad of the financial burden looming on his shoulders. Maybe, that’s what adulthood is supposed to do to you. You find yourself working in a field you have no interest or experience in and by the time you gain experience, you’re too old to grow an interest. 

Statistically, your school life was much better than college and onwards. You had, although little, but knowledge about all the subjects, a desire to know more, time to yield interest and a will to keep going on. To think, almost everyone in high school grows up under the same circumstances. They either have the opportunity or are given one to pursue what they want, taking it or not is up to them. For you, it was the former. You were given the chance to participate in the maths olympiad which you didn’t because of school exams. You were recommended to the best science institute in the country but you dropped out in just two months. Your music teacher offered you a chance to learn music professionally in Vienna but you never reached out to her on that again. You were given multiple chances to live how you wanted to but you simply discarded them and went with what proved to be the easiest way. 

That moment on a comparatively warm august afternoon, sitting next to him with wine, you went all the way back to all the instances and decisions that lead you to where you were right now. 

On the other hand, you shift your attention back to Heeseung, and even though you never got to know about his childhood or parents properly, you certainly knew that the way he experienced both of them was better than yours. Growing up as a single child gave him absolute control of things that he did and did not want. His decisions were not influenced by his parents, which could be classified as some sort of independence in regards to making his own choices from an early age, but neither did he have any siblings to set an example for. All his life, Heeseung has only lived for himself, and it reflects in his personality, if one tries hard enough to notice. While you had to give up one thing or other for your siblings, Heeseung got a taste of everything he wanted. He knows how it feels to not sleep all night but you never had the chance until much later because you were always thought to sleep on time and wake up early, whether or not you had anything to do. There may have been someone guiding him all along but most of the time, his experience gave him a clear insight and freedom to choose what he wants to do. 

To sum it up, you might be more qualified in terms of academics but Heeseung has more experience when it comes to diverse situations, and experience is all employers want these days in their employees. 

“Well, you still are the ideal candidate for marriage,” You chuckle, remembering what the lady told you a few days ago. You notice him marking a few emails before closing the app, picking the wine glass back up once again. It’s not a surprise to see someone like Heeseung being approached with several martial arrangements. He, despite being described as a loner by a few residents in the apartment, is still the guy with whom you would want to marry your daughter off. He works nine-to-five like any other family guy, is disciplined, comes from a good family and education background, and his looks work as cherry on top.  

“All they want is a guy with a stable job and salary,” He spat with a smile, chugging down the drink in his glass all at once. “That’s not who I want to be,” 

“Who do you want to be, Heeseung?” You ask above the silence lingering in the room, just loud enough to pique his interest. His phone screen lights up with a mail, but his eyes never leave your sight, not even for a second. 

People usually wouldn’t recommend talking to your ex, let alone sharing a deep, therapeutic session about life and self-development. If you say you’re starting as friends again, they would say it’s impossible because the bare minimum requirement to classify as a friend— the lack of romantic emotions— has already been violated. Even if you claim to be over Heeseung and treat him as just another one of your exes, you know there are unsaid feelings blooming in the air. You wouldn’t call Heeseung a friend, he never was one, actually. Heeseung was never there when you actually needed a friend but you never noticed his absence as your colleague, or as your boyfriend. Heeseung is terrible at being friends because he confessed to you the day he introduced you as ‘just a friend,’ to his friends. You wouldn’t consider being friends with your ex, yet you don’t think you could be anything more with him either. You started talking to him as a stranger but Heeseung has always been way too familiar to identity as a stranger. Too familiar for a stranger, too strange to be familiar, it’s another one of the things your life could be contradicting about. 

He looks at you, directing your question back to you as if you’re a better candidate to consult. ‘Who do I want to be?’ All your life, you’ve never done something that counts for yourself. Even your perfect sleeping schedule was meant to set an example for your brothers. Your achievements were never yours to begin with. You were good at piano, but that’s because your teacher taught you. You never composed a piece and simply played what has already been played. Even at work, you do what you’ve been told, and not what you want to. There’s no innovation, just flow of ideas from one level to the other, and it keeps being passed down to a level beyond which, it’s no longer fruitful. ‘Who do I want to be?’ You ask yourself over and over again, but it’s a question you don’t know how to approach. Rather, you would like to know, ‘Who am I right now?’

Just like that, October passes amidst wines and visits from Heeseung every other afternoon or evenings on weekends that weren’t swamped with work. For some reasons, workload increases as December approaches with his cold and calloused hands, which could be the reason why you’ve been seeing less of him lately. Occasionally, you would pour two glasses of wine and sit in the living room, but it would end up with you drinking yours in silence while his’ rests untouched. On nights you stay up till twelve or so, you could hear him unlock his doors in a hurry and shut it just as quickly. Maybe, that’s how a busy lifestyle is supposed to be. Consequently, you stopped waiting for him, coming in terms with reality once again. For a brief while, you considered flying back to your hometown and living with your family for a while, but the idea was dismissed as soon as the announcements about promotions emerged in your department. Once again, you found yourself working day and night with eyes set on no one but Heeseung to spend your upcoming Christmas with. 

Usually, you’re someone who prioritises family over work but a promotion is what you need the most at the moment. Time and patience, they say, but you have neither of those. You don’t have time to sit and rethink or start all over again, time to start from scratch, and patience was never one of your positive traits. At times, you would consider resigning and moving to a whole other country but it was too late to do that. You were no longer a stranger to society, you knew how things work and you had to make things work, with no time to try anything new. At thirty-two, no one wants to see you resign and fly to Maldives for a vacation, to live like you have no worries to worry about, not even yourself. See, that’s the pain of growing up. Parents would tell their children that they have their whole life to do what they like and just a few years to study and make something out of themselves, and it’s nothing but a lie. The truth is, you only have time when you’re young and, as you grow up, time starts slipping out of your hand. A kid is expected to be able to walk by the time they’re eighteen months old, or two years at most. Beyond that, it’s a problem and you have to consult a paediatrician, even if you don’t want to. A student is expected to graduate by the time they turn eighteen, people are expected to have a job by twenty-seven, you’re supposed to be in a relationship before thirty and married by thirty-five. As you grow old, the time to do something runs out and by the time you’re seventy or so, you realise you’re too old to do what you want. 

“I actually wanted to go back this time but, mom’s trying to convince me into getting married,” He said when you accidentally bumped into him this morning, signing off a delivery. Heeseung, in college, came off as someone who would be rather interested in marriages, someone who’d commit to a serious relationship in university and end up marrying them. You wanted to ask the reason but chose not to, maybe because you remind yourself that you’re exes and there are boundaries that should be maintained. 

“So, you just don’t want to get married,” It’s supposed to be a question, albeit it comes off as a statement. You lean against your doorframe, watching him carry his parcel inside and placing it next to his couch. Usually, you’d lend him a hand but today, you simply crossed your arms and waited for him to respond. 

“I don’t want to get married right now,” He replies between huffs. “I can barely take care of myself,” There’s a faint bit of fascination in his voice, a smile evident on his face that leaves you wondering if the slight humour was necessary or whether it’s supposed to be a facade for his rather unsatisfactory lifestyle. 

“Well, you are doing much better than me,” You counter with the same fascination, shifting your weight on both your feet equally in hopes to engage in a full fledged conversation instead of a small talk. “Besides, marriage is a two way street. Being the husband doesn’t mean you have to earn and be responsible for the whole family, or being the wife doesn’t mean she has to cook, there are no roles to play. Marriage is just, sharing what you do, good or bad, right or wrong, and helping each other become a better version of ourselves.” A string of silence follows, you notice his chest rise in an attempt to reply, but words never leave his mouth. You wonder if you said something wrong, but part of you knows you didn’t. Marriage is not as horrific and most of the people make it to be. We all need someone to hold onto, someone who you know will be there when the world isn’t— it’s similar to dating, except you’re committing to just one person, which is better than breaking up and living in vain for months before falling for someone and living the whole process all over again.  

“You seem to know a lot,” But Heeseung never replies and shuts the door, and it’s just you and the silence once again. 

You spend the next few weeks locked in your bedroom, in front of your laptop, making a presentation while living off noodles and beer. You sleep schedule has been in shambles, you’ve grown prominent dark circles, living the vicious cycle of working your ass off with little or no sleep to suffice for your constant workload. This is the most productive you’ve been in a while, especially after your transfer. You wouldn’t say your job pleases you and better, but being aware that this project could really end up with you getting a promotion and thus, a salary increase, is enough to keep you going. 

You were back where you had started a few years ago, reading reports and watching your laptop overheat from all the tabs and applications running at once. You knew what you were doing but everything felt so foreign. The excel sheets spread open with the pointer blinking for you to add an input but your fingers no longer dance above the keyboard like they used to in the first few months of your job. You consulted your seniors, talked to your team leader, watched conferences of qualified professors of your field, took notes, but it all led you to the same thing— deleting and rewriting the whole thing, or simply a blank document that would light up your room on  nights you chose not to sleep. You even considered talking to Heeseung at some point but after recalling the way he dismissed you the morning he was receiving the parcel, you choose not to. While most people wouldn’t mind taking ten minutes to offer a word of advice, you simply choose not to involve Heeseung with your personal issues. 

Taking half days from work using it as an excuse to work on your presentation gave you an opportunity to watch Heeseung leave and arrive at his apartment everyday. You’d sit on your balcony with beer, or tea, rarely, and your laptop on your lap, scrolling through emails and numerous files, and around seven every evening, you’d see him step out of the cab that drops him off right in front of the apartment. On mornings, you usually see him walk up to the intersection which you think is to compensate for the lack of exercise in his routine. Often, you find yourself peeking down from your railing to catch a glimpse of him as soon as the minute hand crosses seven twenty. When he doesn’t arrive by eight, you grab another can of beer and take rounds from your door to the balcony with a pacing that increases with every second that passes. One time, he came home at nine and you rushed to open your door before realising that you can’t tell him you’ve been waiting for him for the past two hours. Good thing is that you had your phone and continued on your way to the apartment garden, telling him that you have to make an important call. 

You met him as his ex and now you find yourself dropping everything and waiting for him as if he’s your first priority. That’s when you realised you needed to create a line, but for now, you don’t mind hanging out in the neighbourhood with Heeseung as his friend, according to how he now introduces you to people he knows. 

“You’re telling me you never went out and explored this place?” His mouth was agape, too shocked to say anything. There were days when your antics spilled out relentlessly, but living in a city for over almost four months and not knowing any of the routes besides the one to your workplace has to be the worst one of those. Even back in university, you preferred to spend weekends in your dorms instead of at some club or bar, like your friends did. It would be a stretch if Heeseung said you are a hopeless case because he was no better, but he wasn’t as bad either, in several ways. 

“Hm, well, work gave me a perfect excuse to not go out,” You say with your eyes glued to the data sheet on your phone and it reminds him of the day you saw him studying Economics outside the bar. These are a few of the similarities that Heeseung noticed between him and you, similarities that he likes to see but is too scared to address in words. “Besides, it would be a waste of time and fuel when you can get the exact same things at your doorsteps.” 

“Is that why you never went out in college either?” He asks finally after a long drawn silence, albeit it never hits you since you’ve been too busy going through the documents on your phone. “Hey,”

“Maybe, but that was more because of academic reasons,” A poke on your shoulder manages to draw a response out of you, but it doesn’t take Heeseung to realise that you’re no longer interested in his questions. “Should we get more beer?” 

Heeseung stares at you, wondering if you still want a response because you’re already picking up cans from the shelves and walking towards the counter for billing. Gradually, he realises that you don’t even remember asking him for his input because you’re simply paying the bills and thanking the woman for her service. Instead of a question, your words resonate more like a statement. As if, you are no longer asking for a third-party input, you don’t need it, you’re simply letting them know your next decision, disguising it as an action of. . . kindness? Soliticion? He doesn’t know.

Now that the sun is approaching the horizon, offering a purple hue to the ever so beautiful sky, Heeseung finally comes to terms with what he thinks about you. His mind traces back to the day you told him that he’s not who people make him out to be and for a brief second, he questions the credibility of your words. You claim to know him, but do you know that he has been living by the edge all this time, or that he has been fired thrice before getting a job in the bank he’s working right now, or that he tried to call you after you broke up with him, that he has been diagnosed with some sort of congenital heart condition? You didn’t lie when you said one’s family health history will follow them down to their grave. And just like you, he doesn’t know much about you either. Even though you’ve told him most of the things, ranging from your family to your current situation, Heeseung doesn’t know who you are. There’s an unfamiliar familiarity, or a familiar unfamiliarity, either works, he doesn’t have a better phrase to describe it. To think, while you consider yourself in a position to classify people’s thoughts on Heeseung as right or wrong, he doesn’t even consider himself in a position to pay for your food, and it’s probably because how you’ve been taking slow steps away from him, eyes still glued to your phone while you keep talking to him as if he’s right next to you, when actually, he’s twenty steps behind. The sun that has disappeared, leaving behind a sombre glow over the whole city, taught him something— that no matter how long you’ve known someone, you never know them enough. There are pieces of you that separate you from them, actions that tell you that no two people are mirrors for each other’s soul, for one’s body and mind knows how to differentiate between self and non self, and no one’s a ‘know it all,’ after all. 

“You’ve changed,” He mentions abruptly, and that’s when you finally look up in his direction, soaking in the awareness that Heeseung is no longer standing next to you. 

For some reason, the evening led you to a local restaurant and while you were busy on your phone again, Heeseung took his time reading the menu card. As he took his time ordering the drinks, your attention shifted to the view of busy streets on the other side of the glass window pane. You watched as the high schoolers had the time of their lives next to a vending machine, following the actions of the book store owner as he reopened his shop for the evening. You swear you heard Heeseung call out your name a couple of times, albeit it felt like a fever dream and you didn’t respond. 

Change, as he described you, you wonder what could’ve changed inside you. You don’t think there’s a lot. You still work like a maniac and refuse to go out. Your complaining nature never changed, but you still don’t voice your problems where you should. You still get terrible headaches and take a pill for every little inconvenience. In the end, you don’t think you’re very different from how you were when you met Heeseung. Except that your hard work barely pays off these days, you think you’re still the same, monotonic version of yourself that he fell in love with, the same you that dumped him on the day of graduation ceremony four years ago.

“You said I changed,” By the time your drinks had arrived, you were knee deep in the simulations that could’ve made Heeseung feel like you’ve changed. “In what aspects, if I may ask,” 

“Like, in general,” He replies with a nod. “I can’t point it out but something about you has changed— well, of course, your age aside,” Liar, he thinks. Heeseung, in fact, knows what has changed, but he doesn’t know how to put it in words. Well, I can’t say you’re no longer looking forward to my opinions on something. Because even though you met as neighbours, even though you’re in a restaurant with him, having a meal and sharing bits of your life’s stories with each other, even though Heeseung looks forward to seeing you everyday— he needs to remember that you started as exes. 

You manage to draw a long hum out of you, nodding cautiously as you take his every word into consideration. They don’t offer much insight about what he’s actually thinking, but again, you never know exactly what is going on inside someone’s head. However, you take your chance to try and get something out of him. “A good change or a bad change?” 

“That’s for you to figure out,” He says softly, tying his words with a long, silent pause that follows closely after. He shoots you a cheeky smile before digging in and you take your time examining his features under the yellow lights of the restaurant, noticing the way he cuts his steak, or the way his eyebrows perk up as soon as his phone rings. You watch him turn to his side as he picks up the call, putting hand on his mouth to minimise the sound, though it was loud enough for you to decipher it clearly. 

You read the slight changes in his expression and gradual curve of his lips swifting upwards. Amidst all, your phone rings as well, interrupting the decorum of the restaurant. You pick it up quickly when Heeseung sends you a displeasing look, though you believe it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t check the caller ID but the voice tells you that it’s your team leader and for some reason, you’re expecting something good. Call it a hunch or the change in scenery tonight but something tells you that there must be good news waiting for you in a secluded corner. While you try your best to focus on what is being informed to you from the other side of the line, you’re too busy analysing Heeseung’s grimace that now you’re mirroring the same smile that’s dancing on his face. He glances at you and his smile grows wider, making you do the same in return. You really hope your call isn’t about the presentation due tomorrow because if yes, then you’re going to mess up, for your attention is nowhere near your call. You’re so lost taking note of every single change in Heeseung’s expression that now, everything your team leader is telling you from the other side of the phone is a blur. It’s as if you’re in a crowded room and the only thing you’re able to perceive is him. You’re so busy indulging in his actions that the only thing you’re able to hear clearly from the phone is that you’ve been removed from the project.

‘I know that you’ve been working hard but the Chairman thinks you’re not skilled enough to collaborate with us on this project,’ You start paying attention to the conversation now, letting everything else around dissolve in the yellow glow of the restaurant. ‘To make sure your efforts aren’t wasted, you’re free to give us a brief view on what you had in mind and if we decide to include it, I’ll put in a word or two for you to the Chairman.’ 

‘Promotion,’ he mouths the word with a cheeky smile when your eyes focus back on him before getting back to his phone once again. You don’t put down your phone and pretend to be on a call to avoid hearing about his good news, or share the bad one from your side. You try to respond with the same smile but your lips feel like they’re frozen. No movements— you don’t know what to say, how to smile; numbness is all you could comprehend. For the first time in all the years that you’ve known him, a slight hint of envy intoxicates the air between you and Heeseung. You should be happy for him— you’ve always been. You’ve always been a part of his success despite falling to the rock bottom on your part. On days Heeseung called you to inform you about the awards he received in a particular competition, you’d invite him over for a celebratory drink even if you, yourself, lost terribly. It was a long drawn process of mutual development and self-care. What people thought of as a relationship written in the stars, was a selfish way of ensuring your well being in the most selfless ways ever. You stayed with Heeseung because he was the only person down to hang out with you in your apartment instead of forcing you to go out. You enjoyed his company because he motivated you to do better, to test your potential and go beyond your limits; and somewhere inside, you knew you were worth the same for Heeseung too. Watching him do well, isn’t that what you wanted? You should be happy for him— but you’re not.  

Heeseung excuses him outside the restaurant once his phone starts blowing up with texts and calls, giving you a chance to drop your facade and let the whole situation sink in. You lean back on your chair, phone on the table as its screen lights up with a message from your team leader, informing the team that you’ve decided to step down from the project— which is a lie but you assume it’s been told to save you for further embarrassment. You sniff, a chuckle falls off your lips, there’s no use of it at all, what’s done is done. On the other side of the glass pane, you could see Heeseung talking on his phone with a triumphant smile, making invincible patterns on the pavestone with the tip of his converses. It feels as if he’s shining against the busy streets behind him, as if he’s the centre of attention at the moment. It takes you exactly back to your graduation day— he was just as happy sharing the news about his graduation with his family. You were sitting inside a cafe and watched him talk for what felt like hours. Your heart was full of the same dissatisfaction, but now that you think about it, perhaps it was just jealousy back then too. While Heeseung was born smart, brimming with passion, you had to fight to get what you wanted. And despite being one of the brightest students in his class, Heeseung’s achievements never had a chance next to yours. You stood in the first three ranks of your school, first five all your college life, been recommended to prestigious schools, were given more opportunities, you were better than Heeseung in all the possible ways. 

You watch Heeseung come inside and pick up his fork, only to put it down and get back to typing once again. There’s a smile on his face and it tells you that you’re equally deserving of the happiness he’s experiencing, perhaps even more than him because life was way harder for you than anyone else you’ve known till date. For the first time in years, you think life is unfair to you because even after giving your best in everything, you’re met with nothing but failure and discontent. No matter how hard you try, your efforts never pay off and people start treating you like a pushover, thinking you would do everything they’d say because you need to put up a good image of yourself in your workplace. You walk hand in hand with failure and watch people succeed with their bare minimum effort. You look at him once again and think, why must it always be you who suffers the pain of failure and shame.

Why me, why not him? 

III. Remember why you broke up

By the time winters arrived and marked their peak, you barely got a view of your neighbour. A part of it could be because of his even busier work life that comes in with promotions. You took the weekend off, saying you have an annual health checkup scheduled at the City Hospital, even though it was a white lie and you never had an appointment with your physician to begin with. Those two days felt longer than usual with the four walls of your apartment making you feel suffocated in your own house. You paced around for hours on empty, rearranging things, cleaning rooms, cooking meals, moving furniture— just anything that would make you feel useful. Truthfully, being depressed over a promotion makes you feel even more stupid about yourself. It’s a part of life, something you involuntarily signed up for when you applied for your job and you can’t run away from it no matter how much you try. Being in the workforce comes with disappointment and pleasure, failures and success; it’s not your first time losing but it still feels like the burden of failure is occupying every little space in your room, making it harder and harder for you to breathe. 

You thought things would be better once you get back to work but everything starts caving in when you hear the team leader discuss details about the project. Initially, they would let you in their meeting, offering you a chance to share your ideas to see if they can cultivate anything better but it didn’t last long either. You started learning about their meetings after work from other colleagues and they started leaving you out of their discussions. On some days, you would sit by an empty table in the canteen and go back to every move you made, trying to track down the mistakes you could’ve made for them to push you away. You didn’t expect them to keep you updated on everything since you’re no longer on the project team, but it would’ve been better if they had simply said that you’re not needed anymore instead of watching you run around cluelessly before you caught a hint. Everything would’ve been a lot easier if you didn’t have to drag yourself around to survive and make a living. On days like these, you would imagine Heeseung in his cabin with a complacent smile, laughing with his friends and receiving compliments. You don’t know why but at one point in time, you started picturing yourself in his shoes while idly resting in your apartment. 

Occasionally, you would hear his footsteps outside your door and stop everything you’d be doing to hear him unlock his door and walk in. Having Heeseung with you was slightly better than living alone and drowning in your overbearing thoughts, but you decided to maintain your distance. Heeseung— apart from being your ex— was someone capable of doing something, anything. You’ve known Heeseung for years and the once carefree young adult found a purpose in life. He had goals to achieve, perhaps a to-do list to complete; you didn’t want to disturb his decorum with your lethargic lifestyle. On some days, he would knock on your door and you’d pretend to be asleep. He would stand for a minute longer and knock again, you would focus on the sound of him tapping his shoes until they faded behind his doors. You started with leaving him on seen and stopped reading his texts altogether. For a few days, it felt refreshing— as if he was never a part of your life to begin with— but the loneliness didn’t hit you until he stopped dropping by your door. And you realised— you were never able to get him out of your life properly. After you broke up, you moved away, blocking all means of contact, but met him at a reunion, and something inside of you prompted to get his number, and so you did. Even though you never talked, you found yourself staring at his number with your fingers hovering over his caller ID. 

It took you years, but you think you’re coming to terms with the truth, that you can never get Heeseung out of your life, and it’s not because you can’t, but instead it’s because you don’t want to. Life without Heeseung felt like a maze, but with him it’s as if you’ve found a way, and you would never admit but having him next to you was so much better than living alone with alcohol. 

When his absence overwhelmed you, you would try burying yourself into stuff as a distraction. It started with books, then painting, followed by poetry, before you would slump on your couch again with no motivation to do anything. Job wasn’t any better or busier. People had little expectations from you and you had even less. At times, you would pace in your living room, trying to complete a presentation or prepare an excel sheet. The deja vu caved in when you’d hear Heeseung’s cab stop by the apartment entrance, except you no longer ran to your balcony to catch a glimpse. You no longer sat on the balcony with tea, waiting for him to arrive. As time passed, you stopped paying attention to the sound of him unlocking his door. His footsteps dissolved in the heavy silence, too miscible for you to perceive. Occasionally, you’d find yourself thinking about him in the shower or before bed, but the thought of him never lasted long enough for it to dawn upon you. Before you knew it, Heeseung became just another neighbour you had, another resident living in the fourteen floored apartment.  

One evening, you bumped into a woman who was standing in front of Heeseung’s apartment. You didn’t see her face, for you were standing behind her with grocery bags, but you could picture what she looked like. Your eyes settled upon her chiffon shirt and the way it complimented figure, her stilettos, a handbag from Lana Marks, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to her. The thoughts about her knowing or being related to Heeseung didn’t cross your mind until a few minutes later. She, despite being someone you never met, was the exact image of how your younger self had imagined herself in future. 

“Excuse me, does Lee Heeseung live on this floor? I just want to confirm,” And her voice is just as captivating. You find yourself staring at her face longer than you should, losing the sense of reality because of all the questions hurdling inside your mind. 

Who even are you?

“He does, but he’s at work right now,” You reply with a bitter smile.

Who are you to him?

“I see,” It seems like she’s about to say something, and you’re not up for a small talk with a stranger, or Heeseung’s girlfriend, or his ex-girlfriend, your ex’s other ex girlfriend, whichever fits the scenario better. Actually, you’re not half against the idea of him dating someone else, not like your refusal will mean anything either. Truthfully, the idea never crossed your mind. You spent your days working days and nights to get the degree you’ve been aiming for, apply for jobs, fueling your hunger for having more and more. 

Maybe, that’s why college is supposed to include one of the most youthful years because after all, it is the only time when you’re free from most of the worries. You didn’t have stress about attending classes regularly or having proper notes like you did in highschool, nor did you have to worry about fitting into the workforce and numerous interviews. College, for you, was the time you could see yourself falling in love, and you did, and now that you stand in your marginally empty living room with your gaze reaching up to the farthest of the buildings touching the sky line, you realise that you don’t see yourself falling for someone the way you did for Heeseung. Perhaps that’s why your conscience refused to imagine him with someone else. Maybe because he had such an impact on you that you don’t see yourself with someone else, you sort of hoped that the time he spent with you had half, if not the same, impact on him as well. 

The evening passed by with you sitting in front of your laptop, scrolling through the document your boss sent you the same noon. The beer cans lie stray on the tiles, right next to you as you shiver under your beige cardigan. You’ve been wanting to close the balcony for a while now, except you don’t want to get up from the cushion that has warmed up with you sitting on it for two hours now, especially in this cold weather. You’re not busy, but you’ve been trying to indulge yourself into little work here and there. Even if it’s just moving your furniture from one corner to another, or going through a file that you’ve already reviewed the previous evening, anything that could make you feel less lonely is welcomed. 

These are the moments when you zone out involuntarily, thinking about Heeseung, or more precisely, his work life. You picture him in his cabin with a cup of coffee, skipping lunch because he has files stacking up on his desk. You imagine him amidst his colleagues at a local bar after working hours, having his drink of relief that hits his system with a wave of satisfaction after a long and busy day. You think about him a little too often for someone who’s trying to forget him. Usually, the thoughts are laced with traces of envy. Today, they’re drowning in something between regret and jealousy. You take a sip from the can in your hand, and suddenly, the image of Heeseung with the lady from earlier pops inside your mind. You’re not sure if they dated, or if they are dating, but you do know that they’re more than friends. Perhaps, it’s just a hunch, an intuition that’s terribly wrong and is driving you to insanity because of all the stuff you’re thinking about. You know you should stop but you can’t help but picture them together. 

Now, you’re thinking about their life together as a couple, the stuff they’d do, the things they’d say. You feel like an intruder peeping into their lifestyles, someone who’s uninvited in their story, a third person. You think about them doing everything you and Heeseung did together, but again, neither of you had a lot of things in your hands to begin with. You had your problems, he had his part-time job, a sorry excuse of a college major that both of you found interesting, along with each other’s shoulders to cry on when needed. While your stories started off as any other tale of love with paths decorated with flowers, it was far from how they portrayed love life in universities in the media. In reality, you barely have time for each other and if somehow you do, you know in the back of your head that you’re missing out on other things. College is, actually, just a bunch of things to do with limited time, and the time is running out of your hands while you sit on your bed and contemplate life decisions, crushing over some person from one of your classes, thinking about the bartender from that cafe downstreet, making up for everything you didn’t get to do during highschool. 

You and Heeseung didn’t have a lot of time to offer each other. Texts were shared, he’d face time with you every morning and you’d call him if you couldn’t see him after classes. Hugs shared in hallways reduced to apologies at your shared apartments, you both went from making out in club rooms to barely getting a glimpse of each other on weekdays. Initially, when he would get back after extra classes, you would be at the door, waiting with your arms open. After sometime, you’d be in your room, busy with your work while he would be lost in his own world of things to tend to. At first, Heeseung’s presence made you feel better about yourself but later on, it didn’t matter if he was there or not. It all felt the same, and the worst part, neither of you tried to work on it. Both you and Heeseung started to get used to the lack of each other. 

Your fingers tighten around the can, your mind goes back to thinking about the lady. Maybe, the lack of affinity in your relationship gave Heeseung a reason to give up and move on. Perhaps, she was everything to him that you couldn’t be, maybe she keeps standing at her doorstep to welcome him after he returns from work, that the two of them seek for each other instead of getting used to whatever has been offered by the circumstances. Could be that every kiss meant as a thank you for being in each other’s life instead of a sorry for not being able to see each other for days and more. Maybe, he is happy with her and you have no right to be jealous because in the end, you gave him every reason to try to forget you. 

Another shot of beer down your throat, another can added to the emptied stacks, your senses start fading into nothing when you hear distant clicking of doors, or perhaps it’s the hangover blanketing the sound for you. With the last bits of energy and soberness left in your system, you get up and open your door. 

“Didn’t expect you to remember me after all this time that you’ve been ignoring me,” Heeseung snaps at you playfully, or maybe, with a hidden sense of disappointment. You have the answer to his question if he asks why you suddenly opened the door when he didn’t even ring the doorbell, or why you’re here standing at your doorstep with nothing but a thin cardigan in this chilling weather. You’re just hoping he won't ask you for the reason you refused to see him until now, because you don’t have an answer to that. 

“Someone came, looking for you,” You say, and meanwhile, in the back of your head, you think of reasons why you actually ran to see him the moment he arrived from work. You don’t want to admit it’s because of the woman from earlier today, you don’t think she’s the reason behind the sudden changes in your mannerisms in the first place. “Some lady,”

A pause, you notice realisation seeping through the cracks of his skin. A second passes, and then another, his eyes tell you that he knows who it could be. “Right,” 

And, Heeseung steps inside your apartment as if it’s yours, and you step aside, letting him in, as if he has always belonged there, and it feels as if the walls have started to fade out the moment he takes a seat on the couch, taking a sip from the bear can you offer him with eyes ever so indulged in him, as if he has returned home after months. Heeseung exhales deeply before letting the words fall off his lips. “We dated for a while,” 

You expected that much, judging from her mannerism and the way she took your name. You had expected them to be in a relationship, or had pictured them as exes who are planning to get back together, a luxury you could never afford. Consequently, you bury those thoughts deep inside, taking a seat next to him, and for some reason, you feel breathless in your own house, on your own couch, with your own bear intoxicating your systems. It’s something Heeseung has always done to you; making you feel out of place. 

You want to yell at him. 

Looking at Heeseung, you don’t know what exactly made you fall for him in the first place. For example, say, you can claim that he dislikes drinking out late with friends and is the type to study even during gatherings based on just one incident. You can sit back and claim to be almost, if not just as, similar to him, pointing out the similarities while completely ignoring the differences, crossing them out of your list of reasons why. But considering everything now, Heeseung has always been different, and a better different. He received good grades even after spending empty hours at your apartment, watching you study. You complained about having day long picnics with him, saying the two of you could use that time more efficiently. As a result, there were nights you could cry yourself to sleep because you were unable to look at your relationship from his point of view. You would kiss him but it’s an apology for the upcoming week that you wouldn’t be able to see him, and you would cancel dates just to study another chapter beforehand. Every single second spent next to him reminded you of all the sacrifices he made for you and every thing you did to disregard his efforts. No, you weren’t a bad partner, his timing was wrong, but saying that would be just another excuse to soothe your aching heart. Looking at him now, it takes you back to all the days you’ve spent together in pain and pleasure, between yes and no’s, do’s and don’ts, a choice between leaving and staying for a little bit longer; the memories are bittersweet like your favourite wine, or rather, they resemble a cold autumn breeze that makes you shut your doors and windows, keeping you from enjoying your favourite season. Time spent with him was short, though nice, but thinking of him makes you blue. You said you wouldn’t see him again but you’re still here, next to him, stuck in the past, still young, still making mistakes, still growing, not knowing if you’ll ever learn. 

“So, how was work today?” You ask, partially because you don’t want to think about him and partially because of the slight curiosity you have regarding his work life, about how it feels to do something he likes, something that doesn’t feel like a chore. 

“You’re not going to ask why we broke up?” He questions back. 

“I figured that it’s your private matter,” 

“She said I didn’t love her,” He says it factually, as if it’s something you’re supposed to know. “That I used her to pass time while waiting for someone else,” His words are unclear, insinuating towards something that you dare not assume, but his eyes are telling you that it’s your fault. 

And for once after you broke up with you, you wonder if Heeseung resents you for calling off your relationship. The thought of him hating you has never crossed your mind, be it your pride or habits to avoid taking the blame. You don’t resent him, he can’t either. You loved each other, you got over it, you broke up, that’s life. That’s the flow of the universe, to meet people and leave him to meet someone else and to keep meeting a new person until you find the one you could stay with. If he thinks you’re the reason why he hasn’t been able to move on, then he’s no different from you, for the thought of him dating someone else has been bugging you ever since the two of you had a drink together on the night you moved in. 

To you, love was inordinate. I love you, Heeseung would say, and you’d ask, how much— he wouldn’t find the words to answer you then. You can go on, pretending none of this ever happened, draping sheets over all the memories about everything you and Heeseung were, in the back of your mind, and fall in love with him all over again, living as all the things you could’ve been. You’ve put too much faith in your love for him, knowing that even after spending the sunsets alone, your mornings will always commence in his arms. There’s fear lurking around, you chose to ignore it. So resentment, in your relationship, was a bliss neither of you could have. For every day that you stood him up, Heeseung paid you back multiple folds. Every moment spent in his arms struck you back with arguments that seemed to get bigger, and none of you were ready to work things out. The pain was mutual, you both hurt each other, then why does it seem like only you’re in the wrong? 

“Turns out, I never gave you a congratulatory gift for your promotion. I should be having a bottle of wine if I’m not wrong,” You get up from your couch; a subtle attempt to change the topic and drive the atmosphere in any other direction except the one it was flowing into. 

Silence takes over, you’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, he’s on the couch, the sound of water dripping down your kitchen sink hits your ears as you get conscious of the periodic sounds of the clock ticking. Maybe, wine is just an excuse to get away from Heeseung and everything that his presence takes you back to. It feels like university all over again, where you could spend hours in silence next to each other, though this time, you’re apart, but still, under the same roof. The sense of something being terribly wrong looms in the air, but none of you could bring yourselves to say something, because you both need a shoulder to lean on. There are heavy untold words housing the back of your mind, unasked questions that haunt Heeseung in his sleep, suppressed emotions both of you know couldn’t be expressed so easily this time ‘round. 

There’s no wine at your place, but you put water to boil while preparing hangover soups for both of you. His exhausted grimace tells you he needs it, and you need it even more than him. You’re taken back to the days when either of you would have a run down to the nearest convenience store to the university to get beer and then spend the night before the test amidst alcohol and sheer stress weighing your shoulders. You would refuse to waste your time instead of studying but one look at Heeseung and you’d lose your composure. Blurred words about how both of you should be studying for exams would escape your lips between sips from your cans and, Heeseung would simply laugh at your failed efforts to pull yourself together. On days, you think about the possibility of you and him and you could’ve been if time had allowed, wondering if you could’ve made things right by attending the reunion last year instead of making excuses to pass just because Heeseung was going to be there. You consider every single scenario where he and you could’ve been together if time had allowed, and if either of you had taken a step towards making things right, then again, a voice from the back of your mind would tell you to give up. 

You hear Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. “I resigned,” 

“What?” And it feels like your lungs have collapsed. “I mean, you’ve been promoted then, why?” You don’t get it. Resigning from a job that had everything to offer seemed too incomprehensible in your knowledge. Had it been you— had it been anyone else— would think the same.

You’ve spent months in despair, searching for a purpose in the way you make money, a reason to keep going on between oceans of failure with pieces of your shattering will staying afloat. You’ve spent nights staying up, working on a presentation and giving it your everything to secure a better position in your department. Not a day has passed when you didn’t feel like you’ve lost the purpose of everything and yet, kept going with the flow of life to see if something good lies at the other end. And Heeseung would say, who cares about the standards of normal people, but recruiting managers don’t look for something out of the ordinary. They’re not looking for someone who would operate things based on whether it fits their sense of satisfaction, someone who would resign after getting a promotion when other employees struggle to get one. You would consider having a long talk about the choices he made and one he should’ve gone with, but instead, you sit in front of him on the cold winter tiles. 

“Promotions can make you feel good for a while, but they can’t satisfy you in the long run,” He says it easily, a little too carelessly for your comfort. “I just want to do something I like,” And once again, you come to the conclusion that these are the reasons why you and Heeseung wouldn’t have made it even if you had tried.

He’s too different. 

Heeseung has nothing to lose, never had to begin with. When you saw yourself for a whole month, doing everything in the same way, he was out enjoying his life. Now that you’ve managed to pull yourself together and learnt to handle your emotions, though not by a long shot, he shows up and tells you that he has resigned from his perfect job, or rather, a job that would’ve been perfect for you, at least. You would’ve been a better employee, you’re efficient, you don’t make decisions impulsively, have excellent qualifications, know how to separate work and private life, how to separate likes and dislikes from needs and necessities. You wouldn’t have resigned because if you did, you would’ve lost your only source of income, your last straw, something that has been keeping you from returning back to your stagnant lifestyle. You would’ve been a much better employee than Heeseung. 

You’ve seen him living like he has no worries. You’ve seen him switch clubs, change hobbies, drop subjects until he settled with something that satisfies him. Heeseung is about kissing his lovers between paintings at an art museum, promising forever, but he’s so quick to change his heart. Heeseung knows what’s important and what’s not a little too much, he knows what he needs and things that have no use for him anymore. Perhaps, it’s a sense of fearlessness that you acquire growing up the way he did, exquisitely happy and desperately carefree. You think it’s just a waste of time and resources for people like Heeseung because they don’t understand the value of certain things just because they’ve received it too easily. You wouldn’t disregard his efforts because you’ve seen him work hard to make ends in university. Even though things were a tad bit easier for him compared to you, you know it was the hardest time he had during university. You admire Heeseung for his consistency and passion, but you despise him for throwing away something you’ve seen people cry for; something that you’ve cried for, over a hundred times. While you may come to respect his choices when you wake up the next day, but right now, you wish that he was in your shoes, living life the way you’ve been living, suffering, struggling, suppressing. 

“People just don’t get by through society with their likes and dislikes,” There’s a touch of envy in your words, you hope it wouldn’t get past him. You grew up doing everything that would result in a secure future instead of something that satisfies you, to put it straight. The managers at interviews don’t look for candidates with most unique or extraordinary likes and hobbies, but rather they’re in search of someone with experience, ironically, and someone who can adapt to different circumstances without diminution of their efficiency. 

And you think, the childhood people have, or the way they grow up, what they go through and the circumstances they lived in, it really shapes their future selves. Growing up in a financially suboptimal family made you believe that money is everything, and people can try convincing you otherwise but their views wouldn’t alter the truth. Even if you wake up and try to think that money isn’t the most important thing, you would learn to believe otherwise the moment you open your empty refrigerator by the end of this month. You didn’t waste time having highschool romances and university love stories. You’ve had your fair share in having crushes and one night stands until you met Heeseung, and thinking about it now, a part of you knows it was a better decision to stay with him instead of hoping you had someone by your side on days when you didn’t feel like yourself. Perhaps, you did use him like a part of your conscience claims. Maybe at the end of day, away from all the concepts of love and lust, that’s what he was to you, a band aid that needed to be replaced before it infects the very wound it was healing. 

“You’re going to regret it,” It’s a breathy confession, a bitter truth. “Decisions made impulsively, they always leave heavy regrets,” You’ve been walking hand in hand with regrets. You’ve made decisions, many of which you thought would offer great results but instead, left with heavy regrets. You know better than giving up on the perfect job in search of something you’d enjoy doing, or walking in another direction knowing it’s the longer way home. Life has given you your fair share of events to think back to whenever you sit back, planning to do something new. Sometimes, you wonder why all of this only happens with you, and as an answer, you think that maybe, you’re the only one who would take life for its lessons and losses and still keep on going as if nothing ever happened. 

“Then, did you ever regret breaking up with me?” You see, Heeseung was never successful in comprehending the whole logic behind love. He was told it’s warm, but he knows love is the loneliest place a person could ever find themself in; he read that it’s kind, but Heeseung has spent nights spilling tears on his pillow, all because of love. It’s self contradicting; love is supposed to make you feel happy, but it stings. It gets under his skin, makes him unsteady, makes him question everything he has ever believed about love. He didn’t see it coming. Truthfully, Heeseung didn’t see you coming into his life. You were a boon and a blessing, the one who made him feel reckless and out of control; the one he is infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to. Ironically enough, you’re not the one who tucks him in bed, but instead the reason why he cannot sleep at night. So, Heeseung needs to know if his presence made you feel the same way, or if he was really just another passerby in your melancholy. 

His question is the words you’ve been avoiding to notice ever since you called off your relationship with him. It has been hiding in the back of your head, popping up every once in a while when your heart aches for love and when your arms feel emptier than the streets after midnight. And amidst your heavy heart and cold tiles, your hands find their way to his. A faint apology falls off his lips, whispered in your ears. The moon watches you slip his shirt off his shoulders, your lips tracing along his neck while his hands find solace in your curves as if you’re the home they’ve been yearning for; an old spark ignites again, a beginning of something tragic. 

As the night dwells further into the darkness, the two of you are pulled back into the old cycle of healing and hurting, the give and take where both of you would be standing with your hands stained with losses by the time it ends. Your steps are heading towards actions you couldn’t reverse, and the very reason you broke up flashes in front of your eyes, though faded enough to have you ignore it. Guilt trickles through your fingertips, seeping through the cracks of his skin, his eyes gleam of remorse, and the moment your lips meet his’, fate decides to play into the hands of your history once again. 

IV. One step at a time

It didn’t feel right watching Heeseung being so busy even after resigning from his job. You always see him on his laptop, typing or reading something. Morning to evening, from noon to night, you’d see the lights in his apartment switched on, faint rumblings of furniture and numerous phone calls filtering through his walls and entering yours. He was busy, he was planning something huge, and you didn’t like the sound of it. 

You’ve come to a point in life where you can finally accept your pettiness and slash or, your jealousy. Maybe, it’s one of the few emotions you’ve been feeling over the past week, and now, you finally know the reason why. Waking up this morning, you imagined yourself in his shoes once again— without a job, without a secure financial flow, without a purpose or strong sense on what to do next, just as someone in the workforce who’s contributing to nothing. The furthest your imagination took you was to your terrace, you don’t know how you would live through a life like that. 

Some things about Heeseung have never made sense to you. While he might come off as someone who has plans prior to everything, you always see him as someone who lives his life based on a hit and trial concept. He does one thing, and if it doesn’t fit to his liking, he switches to other, and then other, and then he has a never ending cycle in his hands. You weren’t there when he got a job but you know how Heeseung looks when he is passionate about something. The evidence lies all the way back to university, or during the few months that you’ve witnessed him go to work before quitting abruptly. You’ve spent evenings trying to deduce a conclusion as to why he resigned, and every possibility leads you to the answer that it was a decision made in spur of the moment. A part of you thought about asking him for a reason if he ever had one, but you ultimately realised that a person like him doesn’t need a reason to choose something that he likes; no one does, except you. People don’t put a second thought when it comes to choosing what they like and what they don’t. They date their crushes, eat their favourite food, watch their favourite movies, attend concerts of their favourite artists; favourite, it’s a word that tends to solve most of the trivial problems that arise throughout one’s life. Perhaps, that’s another reason why you decided not to ask Heeseung about the night from two days ago. Even though you made the move, the most he can say about complying and giving in to your acts would be because he wanted to do so; no reason, no plans, nothing. 

Maybe, it was your fault. You could’ve taken one step at a time, starting from dinner, then something else— you don’t know what people do to get back with their exes. You’ve never done that, would have never if it wasn’t for Heeseung, because something about him has you gravitating in his direction. That’s why, you sit on his couch, the TV remote in your hands as a random show plays on the screen. Your eyes are rather focused on Heeseung, who sits by the kitchen counter, typing something on his laptop for the past hour. He has been busy with that lately. You pictured unemployment as lying on your bed all day, or pacing around your apartment uselessly, having the days feel longer and watching the time pass because you have nothing better to do. But, Heeseung is way too busy for someone who has recently resigned, he’s even busier than how he used to be. You asked him about it once, and he said it’s something he has been wanting to do for a while now. Heeseung never gave you the context, but you know he is putting his time into writing drafts for his book. 

Occasionally, you anticipate a small talk with him, but with no signs of Heeseung being interested in anything except his drafts, your eyes instead run all over his living room, taking a note of every single detail that exhibits his taste in interior decor that has changed over time. The wine coloured curtains are a little too vibrant to fit his choices of decors and furniture. You remember him planning out the living room layouts with you back in university when you were still together, when life was beautiful and you were impossibly happy. 

You find it amusing how quickly things change. It’s been years but if you’re being honest, it feels like just yesterday, you were accepted in the university you’ve been aiming for, as if just yesterday, you earned the scholarship, and just yesterday, you had met Heeseung. Your heart still picks up a pace at the sight of him.You’ve spent months thinking about the time you spent with him, regretting every move that led you to the decision to break up with him. You’ve had your fingers just centimetres above his caller ID, just impulses away from making a call, seconds away from asking him to get together back again, heartbeats away from giving into your desires. It started with your falling for him first, and you kept falling harder and harder until you realised that you were at the bottom of the pit and it was getting hard to breathe. You spent years trying to make your way up, step by step, and when you were finally by the edge, he came back and pushed you back to where you had started. You would say you hate him but a part of you wants to believe this could lead to something better than how it was last time, because things have started to feel a lot like love, and you’d like to take a chance with your broken fate yet again. 

“Heeseung,” You call once, voice low and quiet like a whisper, one that dissolves between the sound of television. You expect him to hear, but your words fly by his ears as if they’re of little to no importance. “Heeseung,” You say again, this time a little louder, eyes fixed in his direction, watching the seconds pass and waiting for a reply. For a second, you wonder if he’s pretending to not hear you deliberately, but you push yourself to sit up straight, hoping he’d hear you this time. “Hee,” 

And he whips his head in your direction. It was for a brief second, but you could see a hint of surprise in his eyes. You would’ve said you have accomplished something if Heeseung had spared you a little more attention, but his eyes go back to his laptop and before you know it, his fingers start dancing above the keys yet again. 

“What are we?” You ask, half hopeful, half defeated. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you are even asking it. Your heart isn’t hoping for a happily ever after romance, your mind isn’t looking for a redemption arc. You’re not hoping for a good response, you’ve learnt to keep your expectations low after everything that has unfolded in the past. You’re not hoping, you tell yourself, but your soul knows otherwise. 

A second passes, then another, your mind starts coming up with answers to your own questions. What could you be? To strangers, you’re neighbours; to your friends, you’re exes; to yourselves, it’s a broad question. You could tell your mind that you’re in a friends-with-benefit relationship that has a terrible lack of communication and get away with it, but your heart knows it was supposed to be something wrong. 

“You tell me,” A soft laugh falls off his lips, it makes him sound like he’s lost as well, just like you. You take it as a good enough response but Heeseung stands up from his chair, making way towards his bedroom as if you aren’t even there, as if your question holds no meaning. You would’ve assumed his response meant that even if you both are without labels at the moment, you could be something in the future. Maybe, your actions from two nights ago would’ve lead to something good if he was less busier, but for now, all they do is guide you to the answer to your own question: 

A temporary fix. 

That’s what you both are. It’s exactly how it was back in university, a sense of mutualism with no sense of responsibilities. Things were obligatory, dates were barely a show to the world for your sorry excuse of a relationship. It started off like a fairytale, as if you both were supposed to meet, meant to fall in love, made for each other. In the first few weeks or even months, having Heeseung next to you felt like a blessing. A luxury to come home to someone, to have someone you can vent to about that one professor who kept dismissing your essays, someone who you can talk about your endless project and seminar ideas and they would reply with the same enthusiasm, someone who could make you feel like you’re seeing the world just by staying within the four walls of your messy apartment. Dating Heeseung had you believing in all the romance tropes you’ve ever come across, so much that you forgot that you’ve been living in a painful reality. 

You tried not to ponder over it so much. You went back to work once the weekends passed, back to your old excel sheets and same old job. Occasionally, you would wish he stayed next to you until you finished your work just like he did back while you were still dating, but you knew it was too much to even hope for. You would say, you’re going crazy. Perhaps, you shouldn’t think so much about the one-night-stand sort of thing you had with your ex, your neighbour. You both are adults, one without a job and other without the will to do the job, both brimming with unsaid feelings, tied to loose ends, holding onto unasked questions for answers, troubled by old memories and the future that was about to come. He deserved an explanation, you had an excuse to share. Whatever happened, was bound to happen. 

Sometimes, you wonder if Heeseung thinks about it as much as you do. Memories from that night haunt your mind like spirits, making it hard for you to focus on anything and everything else, yearning to feel his touch one last time. There are evenings when you’d come home in hopes of having a conversation about what would happen to the two of you in near future, but then you’d see his eyes glued to his laptop screen the moment you enter his apartment and you’d realise that it has only been you all along. Watching Heeseung do well even after giving up his job no longer induces anger or jealousy. Instead, a sense of inferiority floods inside of you whenever your eyes fall upon his figure leaning over his laptop, typing relentlessly with a content smile on his face. And the reason, once again, lies in the concepts of too many similarities and even more differences. 

Months ago, when you were still in Incheon, still bound to your old apartment and old lifestyle, there was a point when you had seen yourself at your lowest. You used to drag yourself to work, force yourself to smile, push yourself to make it through everyday. You struggled to do the bare minimum that was necessary to survive. You wouldn’t say your situation was any better than Heeseung only because you still have a job while he doesn’t, because inside the four walls of his apartment, he’s doing better than any other unemployed person out there. He’s doing better than you while you still had your job, while you still had money in your hands to spend on useless things. You spent months pulling yourself through just to make sure you don’t lose your job, and Heeseung resigns from his’ a little too easily. You feared every second that passed because you didn’t know what the future would hold, and if you still had a future, but Heeseung is sitting on his couch and writing as if he has nothing to worry about. You saw yourself for months, doing the same thing, in the same way, and Heeseung is living every minute as if it offers him something amusing. 

Life was always easier for Heeseung, and you wonder if this is the reason why you’re standing by his door with your nails digging into the palm of your hands. Maybe, if this is why you don’t try to strike a conversation and instead, walk out of the door as if you accidentally walked into the wrong apartment and now that you’ve realised your mistake, you would make sure you don’t repeat it and end up in the same place ever again. 

The next few days pass by rather slowly. 

You’ve been trying to keep yourself busy with work. Though it’s a bit hard to focus when everything else is plaguing your mind, things have started to get into place once again. Additionally, you’ve also been busy trying to grow a liking for your job after getting an earful from your boss. The truth is, you don’t exactly hate your work life. Materialistically, it’s perfect— a good environment, impressive benefits, a considerably loaded paycheck— it’s wonderful, but intellectually, you feel you’re at the same place where you started from. You haven’t gotten a new project in a while ( was kicked off the one that kept you motivated ) not a single new thing about work except reviewing documents and passing them on for signatures. One could tell you to quit and look for something you prefer to do, but resigning and pursuing something that you like, unlike Heeseung, is a luxury you never had on your side. 

Before you realised, it had already been a week since what happened between you and Heeseung. You wanted to talk about it, hoped to, but he’s harder to see than the most. You could see him through your kitchen that faces his bedroom. You would see his shadow roaming behind the curtains, a notebook in his hand, or a laptop, rarely. Heeseung likes to scribble his thoughts on a paper before settling with one, it’s something you’ve noticed back in the university when he spent nights working on his projects while you sat still at the corner of your bed. You can still watch him on and on for hours, sitting on his couch and imagining him walking up and down his living room while working on his drafts. 

Watching Heeseung is one thing you will never get tired of. It’s a little discovery on its own. Every step he takes and every move he makes tells you something new, something you hadn’t known before. You remember sitting next to him in libraries late at night and watching him study. It was supposed to be a simple observation, perhaps an intention to catch onto his tricks and tips to study, and suddenly you see him biting his nails as if his pores are dripping with nervousness. It made you feel better knowing that someone like him has his moments where he’s nervous, even scared, maybe more. Watching Heeseung was something you had on your daily checklist because those moments reminded you that he’s not all strange, that there are similarities, and that he also falls weak, just like you. Watching him felt like watching yourself, as if he’s more you than you are. It felt like taking a look into the mirror and realising that whatever souls are made of, yours and his are the same. 

But mirrors for each other's soul has a cost: by the time they part from each other, the individuals have become indistinguishable. Before their merger, they each yearned for the other; as they part, they part from self. Maybe, that’s why leaving him felt like leaving pieces of yourself and meeting him again felt like you could breathe once again. 

You can hate him for all the reasons why he is better than you and for all justifications you could offer to prove otherwise. You can spend hours explaining why life has been unfair to both of you, yet still he gets to have the better end while you always fall back to the start even after all the times you’ve tried. You can go out and tell the world your tales of misery and braveness, how you didn’t give up even after life dragged you beyond what could possibly be the worst, and you can complain your heart out about how Heeseung, despite having everything you could ever ask for, gave up all because it didn’t fit to his liking. You can call him a coward in front of eight billion people and would still find yourself in front of his doorsteps at the end of the day, just like now, because after all, he’s the only person who would welcome you with open arms. 

“Have you ever tried painting?” You ask while taking a look at all the loose sheets lying around on the centre table in his living room. It comes off a surprise when you find that what he has been scribbling behind his beige curtains were sketches of characters of his novel, rough and messy, some drawn seemingly in love while others had patches of pain in their eyes. 

“As a kid, yeah. My parents made me try almost everything out there,” He replies on his way from the kitchen with two coffee mugs in his hands; and amusingly enough, it would be the first time you’d be having coffee with him ever since you moved, because every other conversation was accompanied with alcohol or wine. “But paint brushes aren’t my forte, really,” You take one of the cups, nodding in the process. Your childhood wasn’t any different, despite the financial shortcomings. You remember taking extracurricular classes at least four days a week, all for different fields, art being one of those. You wouldn’t say your painting skills are worth exhibiting, but they are better than his. Maybe, that’s why you briefly consider pointing out his mistakes, telling him that he could try fixing the body proportions to make the figures look more presentable but again, you refrain yourself from doing so. 

Instead, you take your time observing Heeseung, again. 

A sip of coffee hits your system, you sit on the couch, watching him arrange the sheets into one place. Earlier, it seemed as if Heeseung didn’t care about you seeing his living room in such a mess, as if it’s something you’re allowed to see because it’s you. You notice the way he’s holding onto the coffee mug, you’ve always loved how his fingers wrap around its perimeter completely. It’s one of the things about him that you find attractive. He sits on the opposite end of the couch and you’re sent thinking about the last time you both sat like this, having coffee over silent smiles. One second, you’re thinking about all the good times you’ve had and the next, your mind drifts back into the thoughts from a few nights ago. 

The coffee started tasting bitter or maybe, it’s just your thoughts. From thinking about his hands in yours to the smile that used to warm up your evening, nothing seems to cross your mind except the way you felt when his lips captured yours for the first time in years; nothing compares to that, not even close. You thought it’d be fine this time ‘round, people don’t make the same mistakes over and over again. Meeting Heeseung again was like falling back into the hole you’ve been climbing up, but hitting the bottom never hurt. You thought things would work out just fine because you’ve grown up. You’ve learnt things, you know what you did wrong back then and you know exactly what to do to make things right. All these things, they ran an imaginary conversation inside your head where everything went back to normal. There was a point where you couldn’t distinguish between daydreams and reality, and the truth didn’t hit you until you were sitting on the floor of your shower, hyperventilating his name into your hands; and you asked yourself— is it so bad for people to just use one another?  

Because friends with benefits is also a relationship based on convenience, you don’t get why loving someone the same way is deemed toxic or simply unacceptable. If things had worked that way, you wouldn’t have ever ended up on this turn of life. You and Heeseung would kiss but won’t be in love, sleep next to each other but won’t be a couple, share your secrets but won’t be friends. He would be someone you would’ve seeked on evenings you couldn’t stop crying and you would be someone he could hold onto on days that made him feel like he couldn’t go further. Not lovers, but not friends, just something, someone you could use and not feel guilty about, someone who could walk away a hundred times without hurting you, someone you didn’t feel obliged to focus on. You both could’ve been someone who didn’t feel like a chore to each other. If people could just use each other, perhaps, you and Heeseung would have lasted longer. 

Commitments are hard. Loving is hard, because a day comes where you run out of all the reasons to love. You become selfish, starting thinking about the give and receive, the shortfalls, the absence. The part of your lover that you fell for becomes the very reason why you fall out of love. Instead of appreciating the times spent together, you start complaining about all the minutes that went in waste, all the days they weren’t by your side. You take a step away from the commitment you swore upon and then one day, you start walking away before you even realise. So, loving is hard, and it’s even harder to fall in love again when you’ve walked away once and you’re afraid to do it again, not because you don’t want to hurt the person you love, but because you want to save yourself from hurting all over again.

“How are you doing?” You ask above the silence, voice no louder than a whisper. You’re hoping for a conversation none other than about what happened that night. It’s not because you want him to take responsibility because you’re just as responsible for it, perhaps more. You simply hate how you’re the only one still hung over it, you hate how he can go on with his life without worrying about the things he did that have shifted the ground beneath you. 

“Good,” He replies, just as quietly. A pause follows, you feel his eyes on your while yours are still fixed on the mug, fingertips running circles along its rim. “Great,” And, you find another reason for why you’ve been acting lately. The worst part about walking away isn’t the realisation that you have to leave everything that once made you happy, but instead, it’s the hope that follows you everywhere you go. You hope that they’ll run after you, that they’ll stop you and tell you not to leave, that they’ll beg you to say and tell you they need you, but they never do, Heeseung never did. 

You look at him after much consideration, there’s a certain look of inevitability in his eyes. It’s not welcoming but it’s not pushing you away either. It’s like he’s telling you there would be a moment when you would look at him in a certain way, and you both would cross the threshold from friendship into something so much more. Perhaps, it’s just the mood of time or your imagination that has you seeing things, but you feel a certain innuendo in his gaze and the way it traces every patch of your skin, from your eyes to down your hands, threatening to transverse further down below. It could be an innocent play of eyes, a harmless action that doesn’t mean anything more than. . . something. 

It’s how you begin, your mouth against his, and his fingers tracing along the back of your neck. It feels euphoric and equally sinful, the way his lips move in synchrony with yours, fitting like puzzle pieces. Heeseung tugs you closer by your waist, a faint gasp escaping your mouth that dissolves immediately into your breaths mingling together. He’s pushing you back into the couch, your mind plays all the moments with him like a short film, it feels like a warning sign, but you’re far in too deep to pay attention to anything else except him. Every swivel of his head sends you down a spiral of pain and pleasure, you’re somewhere between pushing away and pulling in. You’re so lost, it feels like you’re on an island and Heeseung is the water. If you’re drawing, he’s the oxygen, if you’re falling, he’s gravity— his presence in your life is contradictory. He’s the reason you’re hurting, and the very reason you like every second of it. Heeseung pulls back, a gaze full of love, he whispers a sweet confession. 

“Date me,” he says. You don’t remember responding, and the next time those words flood back inside your mind is two days after the incident, when you’re laying on your living room floor with beer once again. 

You’re counting now, the amount of times you’ve ended up on the floor with beer, thinking about all your past actions and regretting. It kind of sounds funny to think about it, to think an adult can’t pull their life together and resorts to alcohol even at minute inconveniences. His words haunt your mind day and night, in sleep and when you’re awake, in happiness and in sorrow. It seems like you’re back to stage one, where all he ever did was look at you and all you ever could do was think about him for as long as possible. Focusing on work doesn’t help. You tried shifting your furniture from one corner to the other, avoided Heeseung for three days before he was at your door with the electricity bill that was accidentally given to him. Consequently, your alcohol intake has increased again, not that it ever went down, but frequent meetings at work gave you a reason to stay sober. As for now, you’ve been spending each day the same way, vegetatively, ever so stagnant, like water in an infected pond that is born to numerous parasitic diseases. Your refrigerator is getting emptier day by day, you feel too exhausted to buy groceries. Days transform into weeks, Heeseung leaves for Busan for a week. He didn’t tell you. You overheard it from the ladies in the elevator. Now, there’s a closed door in front of you everytime you open the door to your house. A door with letters and envelopes piling up, a plant that is drying up day by day because looking at it, you assume Heeseung had forgotten about it. When the energy to cook leaves your body, you resort to ordering takeouts. Missed calls from work are the only thing preventing your apartment from drowning in silence. When the last of your hope dies, you resign from work. 

You think you’re going crazy, because you get back to the cycles of standing in the balcony around the time Heeseung used to return from work. A part of you knows he doesn’t work anymore, heck, he isn’t even in the city, but you spend most of your day thinking about him. At times, you wonder the point of all this. You wake up, check your phone for any texts from Heeseung or simply anyone. Fifteen minutes pass and you drag yourself out of the bed, eat ramyeon, watch television, sit on the balcony with bear, watch the people come and go, eat ramyeon for lunch again, sleep, ramyeon for dinner— you needed someone else, something that would break you out of this vicious cycle. There are days when your own skin suffocates you, when the image in the mirror doesn’t feel like yourself but rather, a faceless person. You’ve spent hours sitting in the shower and letting the water prune your fingers. You let your tears wet the bed sheets. For some reason, it feels like you’re coming to terms with reality. 

As days pass by without Heeseung, you’re starting to realise your feelings, able to sort out things you want and don’t. You thought your dream was to live an average, normal life. Looking at it now, you don’t think it’s what you wanted, maybe you didn’t have a choice to begin with. You studied in a prestigious university, you had scholarships to support your tuition fee, you had a job that paid you well enough, you had everything any other person your age would desire, you had those things because you wanted to set an example. You lived for your siblings, you lived for your parents, you lived for the expectations that came with your intelligence and skills. Sitting in the bathtub as your mind revisits every decision you’ve ever made in life, not one was for yourself. Or maybe there was— loving Heeseung. 

Perhaps, at the end of the day, you wanted someone who would love you, someone who would watch you be selfish and slowly clap at the back of the theatre because you’re doing a good job, you’re choosing yourself above everyone else. Heeseung was the person, it’s the only thing you’re so sure about in your life. He was like a saviour in the apocalypse. He’d tell you to blather about your insecure mind that kept nagging you regarding all the things you couldn't do and, he’d explicate how exquisitely it told you lies that you believed. You thought you could reciprocate, but every moment spent next to him reminded you of things he was and things you could never be. You were scared he’d notice your insecurities, the voices tell you that you’re only worth abandoning. You guessed it wouldn’t be hard, you just had to hide your feelings, and years later, your decisions prove you wrong once again. You’re struggling to breathe under your skin, your heart desires for him, you’re falling in deep again, and you’re about to pack your bags. That’s how your life has always been, to avoid getting hurt, you hurt the people you love. 

Maybe, you need him after all. Heeseung was one thing you were certain of in your life— still is— but you had your pride ruling your life, and he had stars to reach. 

At some point during Heeseung’s trip, you pick up a paint brush. It’s a sudden decision, an impulsive move. You wake up one morning and your senses crave the smell of oil paints and brushes. You never had a talent for painting, not by a long shot. You attended classes back in middle school but had to drop out because of your family’s financial conditions. You think you’re trying to copy Heeseung. You both have unsaid words in the back of your mind, both need to convey their feelings one way or another. Heeseung picked a pen, you chose a paintbrush. It’s supposed to be therapeutic, you have heard about art therapy. There is no set subject, you draw whatever comes to your mind. Your first piece exhibits your kitchen. There are unwashed dishes, you used yellow to add a light glow except, you used a little too much of the colour. The second one, an apple from your fruit basket. Third, your ceiling— white, blank, empty, you’ve named it ‘My head’s ceiling,’ as lame as it sounds. Your fourth is the cat that roams the neighbourhood on most nights. You don’t know about anatomy, but you sure do see slight improvements with colouring. Your fifth and the last one is Heeseung from the night you met him for the first time after moving in, and then he finally arrives from his trip. 

“Did you miss me?” He asks you when you show up at his doors in a thin cardigan and a bottle of wine in your hands. Weather was never a problem, any place with Heeseung tends to feel warmer. You walk inside, eyes on the loose sheets lying all over his kitchen counter. You wonder how he will react after hearing about your resignation. 

“I missed drinking with you,” You may or may not have a motive behind your words, maybe you wanted to feel him against you once again, maybe the wine ends up being an excuse again, but the night doesn’t flow in that direction. You tell him about your resignation, he finds it funny after the ‘pep-talk’ you gave him when he resigned. You tell him about your newly found interest in art, he tells you to practise since you have plenty of time. His responses are short and specific, not a word more or less from what’s necessary. His eyes make their way to you once in a few minutes and the rest of the time, they’re on his laptop screen. There are so many things you want to talk about, you have so much to share, so much to do. You had plans for tonight, but all he offers you is a short talk. It’s as if you’re not important anymore, as if you’re the third person between him and his drafts, and he’s doing you a favour by not sending you back to your apartment. He’s being distant, it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Half of it is because of his drafts, the other half, his interest. Heeseung is passionate about what he does. Whatever he does, he sacrifices all of him, it’s about catching his interest. You pour yourself another glass, Heeseung asks you a few questions about his work in progress. You realise he’s losing interest in you, little by little. 

You sort of expected yourself to be better after his return, it turns out to be false. You’re still on your living room floor, hands and clothes having stains of reds and blues. You painted the wine bottle from last night. You haven’t got any sleep, the image of Heeseung pops up everytime you close your eyes. It feels like the world is giving you what you had given him long ago— all the pain and insufferable longing, all the reasons that made him believe that he deserved to be abandoned. When you got busy with studies and a job in your last year of university, ignoring Heeseung seemed to be the only way out of your hectic schedules. You had exams, a job to cater too, money was already a problem so you couldn’t afford giving him gifts on all the days they have made for couples. Heeseung used to show up with something new every single day and no matter how pretty it was, a part of you despised him because it made you feel inferior. Leaving Heeseung wasn’t an option, it was your only choice. He was the only thing you had that you could throw away. 

“Can we talk?” Heeseung shows up at your door on a Thursday morning with words that brushed away any traces of sleep in your eyes. It’s eleven, you woke up barely fifteen minutes ago, and you find him at your door; hands empty, no traces of his laptop or notepad. You think you’ve finally become one of his priorities, after all. 

“About what?” 

“Us,” He responded quickly, he came prepared. “I want to talk about us,” And there it is, confrontation knocking at your door. You’ve been waiting for this moment for a while now, for weeks and more, perhaps, and now that it’s in front of you, waiting for you to hold it’s hand and guide it inside, your body freezes under his gaze. It’s a game of push and pull, like a pendulum oscillating between two extremes. You want him to tell someone about you. The thought of you vanishing completely from his world is unbearable. You can’t stand the thought of being a silent tomb in his heart, you don’t want to be an inscription on the first page of his book. You want him to tell the world about you and promise you a forever, but a part of your heart gently reminds you of the impossibility of the kind of love you’re wishing for. It’s not Heeseung who you can’t trust, rather, it’s yourself. You’re scared of your demons. When things get happier, you get anxious because you might ruin it once again. 

“Do you want to come in for coffee?” And here you are again on your couch with mugs and words you’re busy burying inside. The situation feels oddly familiar, your eyes travel to him. There’s a look of dejection in his eyes. 

You join a wellness club a week after, and Heeseung is the first person to know about it. You saw the advertisement when you went to buy fruits two days ago. It didn’t interest you until you walked back home and found yourself in front of your mirror, thinking of what you were and what you’ve become. Your dark circles have grown prominent, your joints ache from the lack of movement. Walks with Heeseung after dinner are the only reason why you wake up everyday and eat your meals. You have your paint brush and wine, you have every reason to not live any longer. If it wasn't for him, you don’t think you would have been breathing at all. You look up the fitness club on Naver, take your time reading through the programmes they’re offering and the pricing. Maybe, this is the change you needed in your life. Not Heeseung, not money, not a job, but some time for yourself. A place to think about yourself and how you are doing, a place to be selfish without being ashamed of it. 

The first few days were nice, you met new people, saw new faces. One new thing in your life, apart from painting. The sessions mainly focus on meditations, you were never the most patient person in the crowd. Some sort of yoga follows before a break, and that is usually the worst part. You would sit on the wooden floor and watch others talk, their laughter and murmurs filling in the hall. It makes you feel like how you used to be in the university— in silence, by yourself. You had conversations with your mind, with your heart. You looked around and saw eyes looking at you. Every second felt like they were talking about you when in reality, the thought of you never crossed their mind. You were no one, despite being popular, it’s ironic, and you hate how the exact same thing started happening in the club. It would have hardly taken you five sessions to give up and get back to your routine of painting, drinking, and sleeping. When Heeseung asked, you excused it as boredom and unsatisfactory. Actually, you have started feeling better ever since Heeseung returned from his impromptu trip. With him next to you most of the day, you feel functional and sane. You feel like you could think again, you decide to get back to cooking your own food instead of ordering take outs or simply sleeping after drinking. You didn’t see the need to attend the wellness classes anymore until a few days before, when they texted about a trip in the groupchat. You tell Heeseung about it, he locks himself in his apartment for the following days to come. 

You don’t know how or why he made that decision. You spend hours everyday thinking about all the probable reasons, only to end up with nothing. After three days of consideration, you land onto the conclusion that you take too much of his time. It makes sense, of course, he’s busy, he’s working, he has a job, even if it’s basically sitting into his room all day and typing. You, on the other hand, don’t have anything. You have your issues that you project onto people, you have problems you try to ignore, you have indecisiveness and can’t decide what you actually want. You spend too much of your time thinking about if onlys and begging God for last chances. Days pass by without him, alcohol becomes your only solace. The voices in your head remind you of the consequences of your actions. They scream about the mistakes you make, laugh at your actions. They recite tales of how you tend to ruin the person you like, how you’re a parasite and Heeseung is a host, and how you feed on his blood to keep yourself alive. You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, you feel like wanting to scratch off your skin. At times, you want to run to Heeseung and profess your love to him, tell him how much you want him, how much you need him. You have always been aware of your feelings, of what you wanted, but deep down, you’re afraid that you might be a worthless person after all. And now, you are the worthless person who is trapped in their own empty life. 

You want to try living your life as a different person. A life where you’re not you, and all the things you have now aren’t yours, good or bad. An alternate reality where Heeseung isn’t someone you meet at your lowest, where he isn’t just a use and throw to you. You want to go to a place where nobody knows you and live as if you have no history at all, you want to know how it feels to live without having people expect something from you. A life where running away isn’t the only thing you’re good at. You haven’t talked to Heeseung in five days and you're already on the way to his apartment from the supermarket after getting some fruits. Perhaps, you just want to live a life where his presence and absence wouldn’t mean so much to you, where it wouldn’t cost you your life and pride. 

When Heeseung opens his door and invites you inside without asking any questions, you realise he has been expecting you anyway. Heeseung gets back to writing, you’re left alone in silence yet again. You envy Heeseung. As a writer, he has an inclination to step inside someone else’s shoes, to get under their skin and see the world through their eyes. It’s a blessing, you think, to be able to live as a thousand different characters and experience a thousand different emotions, to be able to express them so beautifully in words and actions. If you were him, you’d live as a different person everyday, in a skin that makes you feel comfortable. You could be a pianist pretending to be nervous, or a ballerina with her broken shoes. When Heeseung doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes, you pick up an apple from the grocery bag in your hand and enter his kitchen to grab a peeler. It’s an old tradition between you two, to say things with actions instead of words, to hug each other when sad, to offer fruits when you’re in pain, to sit in silence when you are sorry. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” You say abruptly, letting words fall off your lips without control. Heeseung’s hands stop in the midst of typing, hovering over his laptop. When the sound of keys stops, the air starts feeling emptier and heavier than ever, sending a wave of shiver down your spine. 

“What?” A soft gasp, a voice of disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me any time sooner?” 

“Well, I am telling you now,” 

“The night before you’re leaving,” 

“I would’ve told you sooner if you could take a break from whatever you’re writing,” A pause. You look at him, his shifts ghosts your sight and falls upon the apple in your hand. You’re looking at the document displaying on the screen, your eyes fall back on the fruit in your hand just a few seconds later. You wish for Heeseung to be more open with you, to yearn for you the way you do for him, to want so much that every moment without you feels like death’s hands around his throat. Maybe, he already does, maybe he wants to but couldn’t because the fear of you leaving yet again is eating him from inside. You have given him all the reasons to doubt himself and you as well, every reason to think thrice before knocking your door. Writing is an escape, you know he has his own problems, after all, how many times did someone pick and pen or and paint brush when they couldn’t pull the trigger? 

“When will you return?” He asks, a little unsure of the question, if he should even ask you. 

“One month,” And you respond, peeling the apples between your words. “It’s a paid trip from the wellness club I joined, some sort of detox, so I don’t think we’d get to talk much either,” Your thoughts aren’t sane, they’re all over the place, everywhere. It’s hard to walk, harder to crawl, it feels like you’re standing in a deep pit, the way out is in front of you but you don’t know how to reach up there. Calling it a detox sounds stupid, but you know you need it, it’s for you, for him, and for whatever the two of you are becoming. 

“It’s alright,” Liar. “It’s just one month,” 

Before you know it, you’re in his arms and you’re hugging him back. Perhaps, you missed the embrace, the warmth of loving and being loved. “Just one month,”

“I love you,” He smiles against your ear, arms pulling you closer. You’re stepping into happiness for the first time in months, you’re reminded of its previous betrayal. And you realise that the person you’ve been yearning for is the one you should step away from. 

V. Should you get back with your ex?

It’s been five years since Heeseung has heard from you. He has been waiting, but he doesn’t have time to sit back in his apartment while putting everything aside. He has been keeping himself busy with drafts and publishing, lost amidst plots and characters he created, living in a whole another universe as an escape from reality. It all makes him sound crazy, or rather, like someone who has been through severe grief. But, Heeseung has been busy thinking about all the new genres he can try and every single thing that he can include in his writing because no one can stop him, and his imagination means no bounds. After all, Lee Heeseung, after five years of waiting and working, has finally published his most awaited work. 

Heeseung isn’t used to distances. They drift people apart, as they once did the two of you, but he didn’t mind anything when it came to you. You were going to return within a month either way, and thus, he found solace in texts and calls while waiting for the days to pass. You’d send him pictures of the city while he’d forward you an image file of another blank document. For days, you both texted restlessly, between meetings, during meals, while taking a walk, before and after bed, it was as if you had returned all the way back to how your life was in university. On days you couldn’t make time to call him due to your busy schedule, he would leave voice notes regarding every single thing he has been up to. It was a small step towards forgetting the past since neither of you tried to talk about it. It was more of an attempt at ignoring your past mistakes and moving on, taking a mental note to not repeat them again. While the need to talk things out bugged both of you every night, you were just fine with whatever the two of you had at the moment. 

Things had started off good, but the two of you started hearing less of each other. His busy schedule or your lack of internet could be blamed. You really needed some time to yourself and it seemed to be the perfect excuse to not text him first, or even back. Days morphed into weeks, weeks into months, Heeseung was finished with the first draft for his next book. That was for you but Heeseung, again, isn’t used to distances. You would see his texts on the top of your notification bar, holding onto a fragile ray of hope that he’ll hear from you anytime soon. You’d see his missed calls, voice notes, emails, direct messages on social media, even a letter he sent once. You could feel guilt pool inside of you, realising that once again, you’re being the one to draw a line, to create distance and while you promised that they wouldn’t affect you both this time ‘round, you’re the very reason why they keep on increasing. But, Heeseung is good at these things, hoping, holding, waiting; he’s good at sad things. Perhaps, it’s just another thing he has come to learn because of you. 

When you didn’t contact him for another two months, he started reaching out to your friends and family. He called your friends and his friends, his family, even. It was like he was in a forest with a lantern, looking for treasure, and the flame went out. 

He used to think he could go a day without your presence. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back. Then, a day arrived when he found himself struggling to feel your presence but the next was harder. He knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and it wasn’t going to be okay for a very long time. 

Losing you wasn’t an occasion or an event. It didn’t happen once and instead, happened over and over again. Heeseung loses you every time he picks up your favourite coffee mug, whenever that one song plays on the radio, when he unconsciously scrolls all the down to the bottom of his messaging app, coming across your contact. He loses you every time he thinks of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. He goes to bed and loses you, when he wishes he could tell you about his day and everything that he has planned for the future; and in the morning, when he wakes up and reaches for the empty space across the sheets— Heeseung begins to lose you all over again. 

“What inspired you to write this book?” And now, he’s sitting at his book launch event, a faint smile on his face, a good of pride gleaming in his eyes. Through the years, Heeseung has released short stories and poems; poems that he wrote while looking out of his window at every flight that flies by, hoping you’d arrive one day, while sitting outside next to your apartment late at night, while drinking your favourite wine knowing you would’ve had the whole bottle to yourself if you were to join him. Heeseung would sit on the cold tiles of his living room and let his mind paint a picture of you. The image of you in his mind is blurry, but he feels every emotion you gave him to this day. 

“A friend, my neighbour,” His smile grows wider, a little more filled with sorrow, yearing oozing through the cracks of his skin. “My ex-girlfriend,” Calling you his ex doesn’t seem right since the two of you never broke up. You need to be in a relationship to break up, and Heeseung and you weren’t anything. 

His first poetry work, ‘Red Wine,’ was written in the first few weeks after you stopped contacting him. Those were some of Heeseung’s worst days of life, days he felt like doing nothing except lying down and staying still until his systems gave up due to the lack of movement. He has written about you drinking red wine on the floor just like you do, and on the other side it’s him, cold and bleeding. You’re looking at him— he pictures you as such, and you continue to sip on your wine, watching him bleed. Is there a possibility of you and I? Heeseung wouldn’t know, for you enjoyed your red wine while his blood pooled around your legs, and you wouldn’t flinch because you wouldn’t know if it’s blood or wine unless you taste it, and you wouldn’t know if he’s hurting for you’re too busy dwelling in your own mind.   

“Did you get back with her? Is that why the book is named ‘How to get back with your ex’?” Heeseung thinks the question is rhetoric. Anyone can tell if he and you are together or not after reading the book. Few seconds pass in silence, it’s not the question he’s running from, but the answer that lies around. Heeseung doesn’t know if there was ever a point when you considered taking him back into your life with labels, just as how it used to be back in university. You waited for him at odd hours but never admitted to missing him. He confessed, you never gave an answer, but you kissed him as if he was a part of you that went missing centuries ago. Your touch bled with yearning, love rolled down your cheeks, and you never accepted your feelings. You’re not his lover, he likes to keep you as his favourite incomplete fish. 

“No, actually, we’re not in touch anymore,” Heeseung isn’t familiar with loss. He doesn't have a lot to offer, not at all. Lee Heeseung, in fact, doesn't have anything to give or lose, his hands are empty. He has a mediocre job that he resigned from over a mediocre reason, and a mediocre life, a mediocre apartment with some mediocre flowers in the mediocre vase a friend gave him as a congratulatory gift on graduation day. He has the same mediocre thoughts and books, tropes and genres, no new thought in a while; Heeseung, actually, has more to accept than to lose. 

To think, he has always been on the receiving end of life. 

The first month was the hardest. He started hearing less of you, and then none. Losing you, it was like experiencing withdrawal symptoms. Heeseung would pace around, hours on empty, looking obsessively at his phone to catch a hint of you, just one text, one missed call, anything. His editor continued to call him, even show up at his place, telling him to write, to do his job, but words don’t flow when you’re not around, and the thought of you pains his heart inexplicably. He knows he’s always talking about second chances, how there is always a second shot at things that slipped out of your hands. The day you cut off all contact with him, Heeseung realised that it was probably his last chance with you. He cried the first time the news of Bus M4107 crash on its way back to Incheon. He ran back to his apartment, avoiding getting hit by a lorry only by a few minutes, vision getting blurry as his mind started coming up with all the worst scenarios possible. Heeseung went through all his contacts, looking for names familiar to the two of you and begged them to try to get in touch with you. He spent hours looking at his phone, his eyes were like a searchlight. How they looked at the sky with such longing, how they always turned towards the door hoping you’d walk in any moment. Heeseung doesn’t care if you’re with him, he doesn’t mind seeing you across the street while pretending to be strangers. He doesn’t mind not being able to hold you. Even after all these years, even when he’s Korea’s bestselling author, even when he has everything he has ever dreamt for, his life has voids that remind him of you, but it’s fine. Things were fine, you left him one Sunday morning with his cup half empty. It was supposed to be just a month, but five years later, Heeseung pads around his apartment following your presence that still lingers around. Outside, the rain is already falling, there are still pieces of you behind every door, he can live just fine. He can live knowing you’re here, in this world with him, amidst the eight billion people. It’s better than accepting the fact that you’ve left him alone, forever. 

Fifth month was a little easier, Heeseung published his first short story. He was doing good, and had work to stop himself from thinking of you. Friends and family kept him busy, book signing events occupied most of his days. You didn’t leave his mind, you just started residing less. He thought of it as a routine— every morning, you’d leave his mind as his schedules began. He pictures you floating over the city, over the busy markets and sublime lakesides. You visit sometime in between, when he’s resting on his bed or enjoying his tea. You walk back in and tell him about everything you’ve seen. You talk about the balloons stuck in the tree, about the girl running behind her school bus, and then you leave again and he sits to write. You walk down the streets through the sunset, the fragrance of sea-food spinning in the air. There’s a couple on their first date, a group of friends taking pictures outside a hotpot restaurant, a wife waiting for her husband, a mother picking up her son, a family going shopping, and then you’d come back right before he’s going to bed. You’d tell Heeseung about them, your voice ringing in his ears. You kiss him goodnight, he goes to sleep, your thoughts are like a lullaby. And the next morning, the cycle repeats again.

Around the twelfth month, Heeseung found himself at his lowest. It had been a year since you left, a year since you disappeared off the face of earth with no trace of you even after investigation. The case was closed, Heeseung felt the ghost of you leaving his mind bit by bit. Your empty apartment had been sold off to a woman in her forties, he didn’t like the idea of someone else occupying the place that had once belonged to you. In his mind, you still live there, and you still spend your days lying on the living room floor with wine. The renovation began soon after, Heeseung found himself standing in the living room of your apartment. With every inch of wall painted, the absence of you caved in on him closer. Every inch of brush stroke on the wall covered the evidence of your existence, painting white over the pieces of you that you left behind the closed doors. It felt like a sign to move on, as if the world was forgetting you and so, Heeseung was supposed to do the same. It boils his blood to this day, his heart aches inexplicably. The universe knows you as someone who disappeared off the face of Earth, it doesn’t know you like Heeseung does. It doesn’t know the impact you have on his life, it’s unaware of the little things you did that changed his view about things. People are moving on, the media forgot about all the people who died in the accident. He doesn’t understand how everyone continued with their lives as if nothing ever happened. Twelfth month was the hardest for Heeseung. Disappearing memories of you from his mind froze his mind, he wanted to die, if it meant he could see you again. 

You see, getting back your ex isn’t always about the romantic feelings you had for each other. You can be friends with your ex, or neighbours, co-workers, and it would still mean you got back with them, because getting back together means putting the past behind and working together to help each other become a better version of themselves. Isn’t that what we do even when we start dating our exes; being better than how you were with them in the past, not repeating the mistakes that drifted you apart in the first place? Heeseung doesn’t mind getting back with you even if you’re a stranger he sees at the supermarket. It’s fine even if you’re someone he sees once a week at the subway. If there is even a little chance that you’re here, Heeseung is okay living with just a glimpse of you. He has waited five years, he will wait for fifty more. 

“Do you still love her?” A journalist raises the question, and Heeseung could ask himself the same thing over and over again, always ending up with the same answer: he doesn’t know. Saying that he does would be an overstatement because Heeseung doesn’t know where his heart lies, and denying it would be a blatant lie. So, instead, he likes to think of you as just someone who came into his life and lost her way out of it. 

Just someone who he met one night by the bar, someone he warmed up to so quickly that every single neuron in his body went off with alarms, alerting him of all the possible consequences about how this would take a tragic turn. It happened like this : he met you, and for some reason, he felt more connected to a stranger than anyone else— closer to you than his closest family. Someone who taught him what loneliness is because before you, Heeseung was used to doing things alone, on his own. Someone who made him rethink every life decision, someone who, he knew, would turn his life upside down, and still he let you do it. You were someone he spent his happiest days crying about and saddest moments reminiscing over. Heeseung gave you love, and in return, you gave him an insight on life, an important lesson, and an answer to all his whys and hows. Your love was soft and tacit with all hands and lips and hearts in tandem. It was like a storm and he was walking into it straight. Heeseung is an explorer, you were a traveller. You both met at the intersection, the lights went red, the world stopped for a brief second. He saw love in your smile, he wishes he could see more of it. But you had a plane to catch and Heeseung, he was already home. 

Dedicated to my ex-girlfriend, the one I didn’t expect to meet after years of trying to move on, one who left and came back as if nothing ever happened and turned my life upside down. I think it was obvious that this was about you anyway. I hope you are happy, wherever you are. I hope you’re still here. Thank you for being someone I could rely upon, for being my muse, for being my one and only love. 

—

Thank you for reading, ‘How to get back with your ex’.

[desultory-novice]

Dess Late Night Art Rambles...

So the more I look at my latest Fontaine piece, the more I'm like, damn this is clumsy. It's not just the anatomy. Or the posing. I forgot Adeleine's hat pom-pom and her tights (no wonder she's freezing!) and reversed the triangles on Noir's scarf.

Silly confession time: I don't talk about it often but I have this occasional bizarre fear that people are going to think I'm faking my "good pieces" because the quality difference between one of my bangers and my artistic flops is immense. Like, it surprises even me that they come from the same digital pen. ^^

(I can on occasion dig deep and discover why that's the case: did I use references? did I clean up my roughs before drawing over them? did I warm up before drawing? am I tired or in a bad mood? Still, there are other times I just can't explain it.)

It took talking with a friend to realize what it was about this one that gave me this sense of...vertigo? Because it's just a little joke piece. Just a short illustrated gag about an event during my day I felt like talking about. And if I had just uploaded it as a rough sketch ala this...

...or even this, which is far, FAR more rough but serves its purpose of adding a very quick visual to a joke that's really more about the text, it wouldn't have pinged on my radar as it did.

But...I've been getting some really nice compliments about my coloring lately, and also I was working on an illustration (for another (!!!) fandom) that I was using this thin line brush for and it was turning out really nice so I decided to try inking this + adding color.

...Without refining my gag sketch. >.>

I did try to fix some of the proportions -slightly- but there were several places where I threw my hands up in defeat because I was tired and antsy to have something to show for my pain...

:coughs in how Noir has his hand awkwardly hidden in his pocket because I tried like a dozen different ways of posing that arm before giving up. I didn't even -realize- how badly his legs are misaligned with his torso till I got to the coloring phase, else I would have given a shot to fixing that too. I DID realize that I had thrown height AND ground level out of the window on the siblings but I just didn't care which wouldn't have stood out to me the way it did had I stuck with making a rough:

That "I'm antsy to have something to show" mindset left me with lineart that was still incredibly messy with none of the charm of a sketchy or chunky rough sketch.

And the colors, oof.

I mentioned coming back from this morning's excursion with a cold but even that aside, I think that I've been trying SO many things since my color experiments (manga traces, effects illustration, pose practice, layout experiments, value studies,  hard/soft shaing, 3d enviroments, animation) that I ended up accidentally pushing (?) the process I had developed for that really nice coloring process out of my mind. (!!) Too many steps in a specific order and now when I try to reach for it I only remember half of them and I'm not even sure I'm doing them in the right order. Plus it was cobbled together from four different tutorials so it's not like I can just go back and watch a video and be done with it... I actually think that's getting at the core of WHY my "style" has that inconsistency that makes me worry people will think I didn't draw (or cheated) on my better pieces.

...I've just got a very busy head.

Sometimes I'll read or watch something and it will trigger an artistic breakthrough in me, and maybe I can replicate that the next day, or the next. But then, I pick something else up and what I was so good at the other day gets cycled out. It's kind of frustrating. I wouldn't go so far as to say "I'm not learning anything." But I do think my mind is a bit of a sieve and I'm not retaining everything I'm learning.

...Is this a "getting old" thing, or just a "exhausted Dess who is trying to cram learning a dozen different hobbies at the same time into a life that already involves multiple jobs and a clinical amount of stress and pre-existing health issues" thing? Probably the second...

Anyway...

Normally this is the time of night where, with a piece like this, I'd delete/hide it out of shame that it doesn't represent my "growth" as an artist (which may be more messy than I'm thinking if the above holds true) but I suppose realizing all this about myself and my art IS a kind of growth?! So, you can stay, silly art piece.

After all, is this not why I'm a "desultory novice?"

Though next time, I hope I can remember that it's actually OKAY to still submit one panel gags to my blog as simple 15 minute rough sketches, and that I don't owe it to the world to visibly increase in skill every time I make my presence on the internet known.

[happilybredbellies]

“Thanks for choosing me mister,” Heather said, smiling up at the man as she opened her jacket to give him a good look at her bikini-clad curves. “I promise you won’t regret it! I’m allllll yours till morning, so just tell me what you’d like to do to this curvy little body of mine first!”

Inside, Heather was trying her very best not to vomit. As a cop, pretending to be a ditzy high-class escort for this snobby businessman was just about the most humiliating thing she’d ever done, but there was no way around it. This man was supposed to have ties to the local cartel, the same cartel that her partner had been looking into when she disappeared close to a year ago. The brass might've written the woman off as dead, but Heather wasn’t about to give up on her friend so easily. While it pained her to resort to playing the part of a prostitute, it was the only way she knew of to get at the files he kept in his penthouse safe.

So Heather swallowed her pride, making sure to keep the vapid smile plastered across her face as she stripped off her clothes and spread her legs wide. This man was nearly twice her age. It shouldn't take long to tire him out, and once he'd blown his load and fallen asleep Heather would have free reign to start snooping around.

“C’mon big guy,” she teased, steeling herself internally, “take me for a spin and show me what you got!”

2 Years Later

Heather groaned, rubbing a hand over her bloated dome of a belly as she plopped down on one of the communal beds she shared with the other cows. Her twins were overdue and had been kicking practically non-stop all week, but that wasn't a valid reason for taking time off work. If anything, the constant stimulation her children provided only served to make Heather more productive, as the dark stains currently forming on her shirt could well attest. The door to their living quarter swung open barely a second after she sat down, revealing one of the cartel’s goons.

“Mornin’ ladies,” he called, gesturing back out the door. “Better get moving. The Boss wants you girls in your pens and pumping as soon as possible today. Word is he’s just snagged another cow for the herd and is looking to give her ‘the tour’.”

Heather stood, grunting with the effort of heaving her gravid figure up off the bed. She made no complaints as she waddled out the door along with a dozen other women, all former cops, all now in varying stages of pregnancy. The businessman Heather’d been looking into two years ago had turned out to be the hidden leader of the cartel, and he had a…unique way of handling any women who got too close to that truth. The memory of Heather’s own ‘tour’ was seared into her mind. She could still remember the terror that’d gripped her heart as the Boss walked her down the rows of pens, letting her see the heavily pregnant women inside squealing in pleasure as industrial grade milking machines pumped streams of sticky white liquid from their swollen tits. But that hadn't been what broke her. Rather, it'd been the sight of her old partner, the very person she’d been trying to save, staring out at Heather with unfocused eyes as she climaxed from labour pains, the head of her child already poking out from between a pair of thick, motherly thighs, that ended up shattering Heather’s fragile hopes for rescue. Well, that and all the aphrodisiacs, fertility boosters, and growth hormones laced into every meal she was given.

Thanks to that cocktail of drugs, Heather’s breasts soon expanded into a pair of proper udders, and it wasn't before she found herself hooked up to a milking machine of her very own. Despite her initial reluctance, Heather ended up settling quite nicely into life as the cartel’s newest dairy cow, enjoying days spent mewling in pure delight as each spurt of milk sent pulses of pleasure shooting up her throbbing nipples. The breastmilk of captive policewomen was apparently quite the hot commodity within the criminal underground, and the Boss’ ‘open pen policy’ when it came to fucking them had made him quite popular, both among the guards and their increasingly needy livestock.

Today, as the men fastened cups around her dark, swollen teats, Heather simply leaned back against the stall and let out a happy sigh, already feeling the pressure in her milf-stuffed tits beginning to ease as she reached around her giant belly to finger her dripping snatch. She didn’t even notice the Boss entering the pens until he was right on top of her, but the slim young woman at his side looking strangely familiar. It took a moment to place the girl, but then it clicked. She’d been one of the station’s newest recruits, fresh out of the academy and always pestering Heather for advice during her last few months on the force. 

Now, judging by the horrified look the girl wore as she stared down at the fertile cow her old mentor had become, it seemed as though the girl was starting to regret her decision to follow in Heather’s footsteps. Heather simply smiled up at the slender girl, trying to communicate to her the wondrous future that awaited her once she’d plumped up a bit and finally had a baby or two rounding out that flat tummy of hers. But the smile twisted abruptly, becoming a grimace as there was a sudden pressure between Heather's legs, accompanied by the sound of something splattering onto ground beneath her. Her water had broken.

“Understand? This is what happens to women who stick their noses where they don’t belong.” Boss said, forcing his newest pet to watch as Heather began pulling herself into a squatting position. “That’ll be you in a few months, just another fat breeding cow for my herd, happy to spend the rest of your pumping out milk and babies for the cartel. Don’t worry, the drugs will make sure you end up loving every second of it, even during childbirth.” He turned to Heather. “Isn’t that right, cow?”

The first contraction slammed into her as if waiting on his cue, the pain converted into a wave of indescribable pleasure that washed over her entire body. Heather came immediately, squirting all over the floor as the former policeman let out a long, throaty “Moooooooooooo!”, already feeling the first of her babies starting to slide out of her womb and into her birth canal.

The younger girl tried to recoil in disgust but the Boss just laughed, holding her in place by her hair. She'd soon learn to obey, just like Heather had before her. Like it or not, she was a cow now, a member of the herd, and cows like them belonged on a farm.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 25-The Final Train

Other Stories

Other Days

45318 puffed tiredly into Crovan’s Gate Works, her rods clanking as she went. She couldn't help the sigh of relief as she stopped. Of course the other railway hadn't repaired her tender properly. Why would they, steam was over. 

She looked around her, well steam was over on the other railway at least. Here she could see at least a dozen engines of various types being overhauled. 

A workman waved her forward, so she started again with a groan, moving deeper into the works. She soon was moved in front of another engine, one of her siblings she realized. 

‘That's probably why I'm here,’ she thought, ‘spare parts for them.’

She was honestly unbothered by the thought. She’d had far too long to get used to the fact she would be scrapped to be upset she would be disassembled instead. Besides, at least this way she would help one of her siblings out, even if she didn't recognize this one. The number 44781 was new to her, but that was unsurprising, with over eight hundred of their class she'd be surprised if she had seen even half her siblings.

44781 was being cleaned, properly cleaned at that. She hadn't even opened her eyes, so hadn’t seen 45318, but she could hardly blame her. 45318 couldn't even remember the last time she had a washdown, much less a proper one.

She felt her fire being dropped, probably for the last time, but the only feeling she could muster was relief she wouldn't have to move again any time soon.

Finally her sister opened her eyes, “oh hello!” she said excitedly. “I hadn't expected you to get here till later. I'm Excelsior, former LMS 4781.”

“Hello.” 45318 answered tiredly, “45318, former LMS 5318. The Other Railway ran me through the night, so people wouldn't see me.”

“Of course they did.” Excelsior sighed, “at least you're here now.” She smiled at 45318, it's good to see another of us. There are a few on the NWR but I wont see them as often.”

45318 frowned, “you're not North Western?”

“They didnt…what am I saying of course they didn't tell you,” Excelsior shook her head, “We were bought by the Suddery Railway Museum. Originally they only bought me because I was on the Fifteen Guinea Special…,” 45318 had actually heard about that, “but when they found out about you…”

“They couldn't pass up the cheap spares.” 45318 guessed.

Excelsior stared for a second, “they really didn't tell you anything.”

45318 frowned, “All they told me was that I had been bought and to get moving.” She winced as she stretched, her motion rubbing together uncomfortably. “I assumed when I saw you that I had been bought for spares.”

“You really don't know.” Excelsior said, tilting her head thoughtfully.

“Know what?” 45318 asked exasperatedly.

Excelsior hesitated, “so they bought me because I helped pull the last steam hauled service on the Other Railway…”

“Makes sense they would pick you.” 45318 agreed.

“That was a special. It took them awhile to figure it out but…you hauled the last regularly scheduled steam hauled train on the other railway.”

45318 starred, “no.”

Excelsior winced, “a few of us were kept around on pilot duties or to haul specials, or relieved failed engines…but you were the last time a steam engine was scheduled to haul a normal train.”

“I was the last?”

Excelsior nodded slowly, “there's a narrow gauge line they're keeping for tourists supposedly but…yes you were the last.”

She smiled at 45318, “it took them a few weeks but they finally got the Other Railway to sell you to them. We're going to be displayed together, once we're repaired.”

“I’m… I’m getting repaired?”

“And named. They were hoping you liked Intrepid, they like naming us after Royal Navy ships.”

Excelsior smiled gently at her, “we're preserved, we made it.”

Intrepid couldn't have held her tears if she wanted, she was finally safe.

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 11

Author's Notes: I hate that it took me so long for an update, but here it is! I'm ready for more magical shenanigans coming up ahead! But this one is a little more filler for now after all the action.

Warnings: Allusions to eating disorders/unhealthy eating habits. As Always, Read Safely.

Word Count: 6060

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

To Be A Demon

--

This was…torture. You knew the prince of the demons could be cruel, but you didn’t think he’d be this cruel. Simeon was bold with it too, taking you out into the open, making a mockery of you for all to see. An example. Proof of the fate that lies at the end of disobedience. To make matters worse, he dragged the humans into this too. They were probably nothing but toys to him. This was your fault…all your fault. If you had only done better…this wouldn’t be happening. 

A hand gripped your shoulder, trailing up your neck till the fingers curved around your chin and forced your face towards his. Simeon’s smile seemed to beam brightly as he took you in. You knew from the start that there had been something dark behind the softness in his face. He was the ruler of demons, master of mind games. This was only the beginning of the punishment, wasn't it? It could only get worse from here… The prince spoke up gleefully, a certain undercurrent in his tone you couldn’t place. “There we are. Isn’t that much better? How about another?” 

At this point, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. “Please…no more…” How had he gotten you here to the point where you felt you needed to beg? How humiliating… 

The prince looked at you, a light shining behind the vibrant colors of his eyes. He tutted a little, as if you should’ve known better than to ask. Simeon squeezed your face in one of his hands before placing another small bite of a sandwich into your mouth. “Now, now. This is what happens when you spend centuries subsisting off of hardly anything but magic.” He shook his head at you, dusting the crumbs off his hands. “You’re acting like I’m killing you, but this is for your own good.” 

The leaves above the picnic rustled gently as a short breeze blew by. Although anything that fell from the branches above seemed to be pushed away from your area, as if not even a leaf could disturb the Prince and his plans. This was far from what you had expected though. A picnic, in a public park, under the shade of a large maple tree. You might not have known too many things about this more human tradition, but you knew that this all was a bit…extra. Extra soft. Extra large. The blanket under your bodies was a pale mint color. It seemed to be created to seat over a dozen people, and yet there were only six gathered here. You, Simeon, Luke, Mammon, Levi, and…

A chuckle raised out of his throat. “Demons are always so entertaining.” The disguised angel picked up a snack from the veritable army of plates before you all, his eyes glancing over you, amused. Solomon. You hadn’t expected to see him here. In fact, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you’d been forcibly chucked in the Morningstar’s direction. Of course he shows up now at one of your lowest points. 

The lips of your mouth twitched in irritation. “If you think this is so amusing, maybe you should-” 

Your words were cut off as the Prince raised his hand. Even without saying anything, his power was commanding. The mark he had left around your wrist seemed to hum. Everything in your vicinity seemed to silence itself, including the birds in the trees and even the clinking of silverware. Simeon sighed a little, his smile faltering as he allowed himself to look exhausted. It only lasted for a moment, a gentle smile returning to his face, although there was a tone to his voice that implied it would be best not to make him upset. “Let us keep teasing and hostilities to a minimum, shall we? This was meant to be a memorable occasion.” A flickering hue of disappointment settled in the spiral of his irises. Although, he did his best to hide that detail. You weren’t sure if he was naive spoiled royalty, or if he simply had one of those carefully-planned personalities. If you thought hard enough, you could imagine how Simeon had wanted this to go. You and the humans would show up on time, each of them shaking hands with the Prince of demons and the envoy of angels. You’d all sit together, eat the endless amount of meals Luke had prepared for you, and a historical moment would forever be etched in the history of the realms. A meeting where humans, demons, and angels sat and broke bread- quite literally in one regard- and got along. Even if you had gone a bit rogue and created another pact, this would salvage that. Simeon would set things right. 

But that’s not quite how it happened…

First off, you had arrived late. Dreadfully late. The meeting had intended to take place earlier this morning, and yet it was well after noon now. Although, you would like to claim it wasn’t entirely your fault. Unfortunately, the night had not been kind to you after your mighty virtual battle with Lifia. Returning home, attempting to sleep to regain your energy, you had closed your eyes…and then hardly opened them again. The demands had been too much for your body, sending you into a downward spiral into an early grave, half-dead… Certainly your human disguise had been broken in your weak state. It’s a miracle you weren’t caught. The fine details were blurry seeing as how you were hanging onto life by a thin frayed thread. However, you recall Mammon freaking out, grabbing Levi, Levi freaking out, and then being wrapped in a blanket and snuck through the house before being dragged by the ankles into one of Mammon’s cars. Absconded away by the humans you’d formed a… obligatory attachment to. Then you woke up here, curled up far too close to the prince, Devildom food and potions shoved down your throat to save you. Now you were embarrassed and irritable, the humans were anxious and uncomfortable, Solomon was amused and intentionally stirring the pot, and Simeon was doing his best to keep his dreams, his plans, and his sanity intact. The only one that seemed to be fine was Luke, which was surprising. Every time you had met him before he’d been a little growly sort of thing. Now he seemed…happy… Excited even. Fluttering between people giving them his sweets before pulling impossible amounts of confectionaries out of a single picnic basket in the middle of the placement. 

“Hey,” a quiet voice rang beside you, trying to whisper even though it was clear everyone could still hear. Mammon shuffled a bit closer to you, although he still remained on his side of the blanket. You couldn’t help but notice you all were still so separated despite gathering together. Solomon on his side alone, you and Simeon on another edge, and Levi and Mammon on their own. The divide was all too obvious. “Feelin’ better?” 

Suddenly, you were the center of attention again, all eyes looking in your direction. You turned your head, your hands settled firmly in your lap. “I’m fine.” Your chin raised a bit, and while you may not have been so connected to pride before, you had the urge to hide your weaknesses, especially in front of the Prince…and in front of your- the humans. 

“Well, you might be fine now, but you certainly looked worse for wear when you arrived,” Solomon pointed out, another cheeky grin returning to his face before Simeon shot him a subtle look. The angel shook his head slightly. “You put far too much strain on your soul.” 

After having said nothing this entire meeting, Levi finally spoke up. His head was a little lowered, clear guilt in his eyes. Anxious thumbs tore at the loose threads on his hoodie strings. He figured this was his fault, that the blame lay on him, for why wouldn’t it? At least, that’s what you imagined he was thinking. “I’m sorry. Maybe making the pact was too much. M-Maybe we should break it or something…” 

One of Simeon’s eyebrows raised at the mention of the pact. His eyes narrowed at the human, but for the first time the prince seemed…relieved. Then he shook his head. “No, that’s not it. In fact, the connection should’ve reinvigorated MC.” His hand reached over and settled around the back of your neck. “This happened because they didn’t replenish their energy between magic uses.” His head turned towards you. “You overdid it. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t neglect yourself.” 

“I didn’t-” you started to hiss, but the curve of his fingers on your body tightened. No speaking back. 

Across the way, Mammon tilted his head a bit, confused. “But, they told us they wouldn’t die if they didn’t eat. Was…” His face fell, trying to cover up the stress with a scowl. “Was that another lie?” 

The touch of the prince dropped right before Simeon clapped his hands. Luke sprung to attention, moving around to give everyone another helping of…everything. Simeon straightened his back but dropped his shoulders. “Here is your opportunity to learn more about demons. Listen up. If you two are going to be Masters, you have to know these things.” The prince began to explain things, gesturing to you here and there like you were a display model. “A demon’s body is much stronger than a human’s. Same for angels. Not sleeping and not eating might not kill us but it still affects us. For example, humans feel vastly different when you only get three hours of sleep versus a whole night of sleep, yes? Sure, you might not feel great after only a few hours of sleep, but it won’t kill you. Similar concept for demons and angels. So, when you deprive yourself of rest and nourishment, it makes you weak.” The last line was heavily stressed as the prince’s gaze turned back towards you. The warmth of shame spread through your body. “Not to mention, you’ve been denying your temptations, haven’t you?” Two fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look right in Simeon’s face. In the corner of your eyes, you could see the humans behaving strangely. Mammon was gripping his plate while Levi was clenching his teeth. “We cannot deny who we are, MC. We are demons, and as such, we thrive off of our temptations, off the corruption of the world. We can control ourselves, yes, but you have gone far past that. Temperance is a virtue. One that’s poisoning you.” 

You wished you could smack Simeon’s hand away, to leap towards him and throttle him. However, not only was that treason, but…deep in the back of your mind, you knew it was true. ‘We cannot deny who we are.’ Yet, a very long time ago, you had come to the decision to isolate yourself, to defy everything a demon was meant to be. No souls, no sins, no selfishness, no slaughtering, no seduction, no superfluity. Nothing. All because of them. All because…maybe you didn’t want to be… a…

“Demon biology aside,” the angel spoke up again. “There might actually be another reason why our friend was so drained.” 

The strange tension between you and the prince fell flat as the other demon lowered his arm and turned towards the white-haired being. “You know something.” It was said as a statement, not a question. A confirmation of something he already knew. Solomon was hiding details. 

“I do, actually. That's why I suggested I come today.” For a moment, Solomon shifted in his spot, holding off on telling everyone right away. Perhaps he was slightly remorseful, or, the likelier option, he enjoyed building up the drama and suspense while relishing in the fact that he was the more knowledgeable one in this situation. “I had my suspicions before, but I’m nearly certain now.” Solomon’s glowing smile shrank ever so slightly. “The Morningstar house is being protected.” 

Two car doors shut in unison as the humans shuffled out of the car. You sat in the passenger seat, staring at nothing in particular, glancing through the tinted windows to observe Mammon and Levi attempt to push through the small crowd of people congregating in front of their home, making their way to the gate. It seems that the ‘incident’ from earlier had stirred up more people desperate for answers. For attention. Seems that streets being torn up wasn’t quite common in this world. Might as well have been a daily tradition in the Devildom. Curiosity always dragged humans into trouble.

On one hand, staying in here kept you from being observed. On the other hand… Simeon stopped the car for a moment, and despite your hidden admiration for him possessing the talent to control one of these things, you didn’t necessarily feel like sitting next to him alone. To make matters worse, his words didn’t seem to be as cheerful as they had seemed during the picnic. “I trust your performance will improve from now on?” 

“Yes…” Your voice was quiet, monotone, attempting to not allow the prince any hint into what you were feeling. 

Simeon’s fingers drummed on the steering-wheel. “‘Yes’ what? Repeat your new orders, please.” 

You unbuckled the clasp at your hip, allowing the seatbelt to whirl off of you, hitting the door before it slipped up into its proper place. A very mild insight into your frustration. “I will refrain from coming up with plans myself and notify you of anything suspicious.” Perhaps you had gotten ahead of yourself. Coming up with ideas that didn’t make any sense, leaping headfirst into situations without fully planning for the aftermath. Being bold, standing out, making pacts. Thinking that you were some main character in a novel about hope and rebirth or some such nonsense. That’s not what you were here for. It’s not who you were. You were Isolation. Invisible. Someone to fly under the radar. Someone who had failed their duties centuries ago. So why you? Why choose a demon who seemed the least qualified for this job? Sure, Simeon and Solomon seemed convinced you wouldn’t give into temptation, but now you were being berated for not following your instincts? Which was it? Mixed messages all around. Either these two were unaware of their contradictions…or maybe there was something they both weren’t telling you. What did they really want from you?...

“And?” 

Your hand held onto the doorhandle, waiting till this debriefing, this scolding was over with. “I will keep myself in peak condition.” 

Simeon leaned a little back into the seat. “Good. That means proper rest, proper meals, proper care.” Seven hells, he sounded like such a guardian in a strange way. “You are the representative of demons. Even if this plan is only known to a select few, you represent me. I will not have you making us look like fools.” His tone was rough, almost abrasive, each word scraping through your ears and down into your soul. Before you realized you were doing it, you were glancing out of the window, watching Mammon and Levi lingering awkwardly behind the gate, waiting for you to join them. They both glanced worriedly at the car, their lips moving as they discussed things you couldn't hear. Probably about you. Then the mood in the vehicle changed. The air of disappointment and shame twisted unexpectedly. “They’ve changed you.” As you turned your head to focus on Simeon, you found that his face was far too close to yours. He glanced you up and down, taking you in, as if he was seeing you for the first time all over again. “Have the Morningstars really reformed a demon?” No longer was there sternness in his face, but a pleased sort of softness, almost a glow about him. 

The sudden change in his personality threw you off, causing you to stutter a bit before you spoke. “Of course not,” you rebutted quickly. “I did what I needed to to follow your orders, that’s all. Don’t worry, I don’t plan on making pacts with any more of these infuriating insignificant humans. The sooner I’m done with them, the better.” Without excusing yourself, you opened the door and exited the metal carriage. You could’ve sworn you heard a soft laughter inside before the prince drove off. That demon… Was he upset or pleased with you? You weren’t sure you liked either of those options. All you knew is that he seemed to leave you with more questions than answers. 

Cutting through the crowd, you lowered your head, making your way to the gate as fast as possible. Questions were thrown into your face like stones, microphones threatening to jab out an eye. Like always, you felt the presence of lesser demons around you, hiding amongst the common-folk. They knew you were here now. You knew it wouldn’t take much longer before the word got out. Information amongst demons spread like a disease. While the prince was doing his best to keep the program itself a secret, you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole of the Devildom now knew you were with the Morningstars. Perhaps that was why Simeon was being so strict. With every day that passed, the target on your back grew bigger. And with every pact, the more bloodthirsty the others became. Not only the demons…but if Solomon was correct, your own kind was perhaps the least of your worries.

Mammon opened the gate and held the fence out for you to pass through, making sure it was shut and locked tightly behind you all. Subtle growls and hisses from the lesser demons in the crowd flooded your ears. Jealousy, rage, frustration hovered in the air as they watched you freely pass by the barrier they could not. 

“It’s like a jar,” Solomon had said. “A magical barrier to keep demonic entities and energies out. And for you, it’s as if a curious child shoved you inside and forgot to poke holes in the lid to let you breathe.” The analogy had made you scoff, knowing that Solomon himself was similar to that curious child, giving you this amulet to pass the barrier and not telling you that being in the house would drain you of every ounce of vitality. When asked how he knew this, he gave you infuriatingly vague answers, saying it was all mostly ‘just a hunch’. No. He knew about this from the start. 

“Did he chew ya out?” Mammon’s words cut through your thoughts. You raised an eyebrow curiously, not knowing what he was talking about. “Did ya get yelled at,” he translated. 

“Clearly,” you muttered, leaving the two humans behind as you quickly approached the doors to the home. Now that it was brought to your attention, Solomon was right. The air around you felt…dry, in a way. Strained. You’d no longer be able to get your energy back by just breathing in the magic. 

“But I found a curse inside the house. One of the demons cut off the power.” That was part of the reason why you had gotten yourself caught up in the mess in the first place. 

“Imagine if that jar was underwater. The barrier is cracking. Leaking. As of right now, little spells can drip through here and there. But with enough pressure…” Solomon had nodded his head, his finger curled around his chin as he imagined the possibilities. With a rather devilish smirk for an angel, he hummed. “How long before it implodes?” 

Just as you reached out for the door handle, the entrance to the home swung inwards, causing you to stumble forward awkwardly. As if your day couldn’t get embarrassing enough… Hands gripped your shoulders, catching you and setting you straight. You almost felt your feet leave the floor. Impossible… Stepping back, you pulled yourself from the grasp, pleading with yourself and the universe to let it not be Lucifer. 

Luckily for you, the fates had some pity. “My bad. I’m not used to anyone coming home this time of day.” Gluttony took a step back to let you come inside, glancing over your shoulder to see his brothers. He looked a bit taken aback, his eyes scanning over you and Levi and Mammon before flickering exclusively between his siblings. “You all went out? Did something happen?” 

“Why’s somethin’ always gotta happen?” Mammon sighed, almost as if he was insulted. He flashed a smirk as he briskly tugged at Levi’s hoodie strings, the hood over his head tightening shut across his face. The older brother quickly bounded forward as Levi cursed angrily, pulling the fabric back open and straightening it. “We just went out ‘cuz we felt like it!” 

A lie, but if anything, it seemed like Mammon was getting better at it. Beel’s face was rather hard to read. Was he confused? Skeptical? Both? As his eyebrows crunched a little, you were ready for him to say something negative or snarky like all these other humans you met did. “I'm glad to see you two getting along better,” he stated. Kinda threw you for a loop if you were being honest. 

“I wouldn’t call it getting along…” Levi grumbled. 

Mammon made a loud dismissive scoff before settling a hand on his hip. “What about you? Where ya going, Beel? I thought practice was tomorrow? And it’s too early for gym, isn’t it?” 

The other human’s expression fell, and a strange sensation settled in you immediately. It was almost as if… you wanted to lunge, but not in an aggressive way. Wonder what that was… Beel looked down at the floor. “I’m going shopping.” Not something you would imagine many humans had such a negative response to. 

However, Levi seemed more understanding. “Raid the kitchen again?” Beel nodded. “Lucifer find out?” Another nod. “Now he’s making you go out and replenish everything?” Three for three. Levi giggled to himself as he won the mystery game he set up for himself. After the humor died down a little, Levi moved to walk past his brothers, probably intending to head back to his room. 

Before he could, Mammon grabbed the back of Levi’s clothes, yoinking him back so hard you heard Envy choke a bit. “Why don’t we go with ya?” No…you knew where this was heading. Making the same moves as the blue-haired introvert, you took a few steps into the shadows. A hand snaked around your wrist, gripping tightly. The firm hold of a traitor, a turncoat hell-bent on dragging you down into the fires with him. The look in Levi’s eyes screamed, ‘if I have to go, so do you’. 

“Really? But you just got back home.” Beel hardly blinked at the sight of the three of you linked together, struggling against each other’s grasp. Either he was too caught up in his own mind to pay attention, or he was used to this type of shenanery. 

“We don’t have anything planned today! Besides, how long has it been since we’ve hung out with our adorable little brother? Right Levi?” With one firm tug, Mammon pulled the third-oldest to his side, forcing Levi to let you go. A whisper was shared between the two of them, the white-haired human muttering through shut teeth. “A nice selfless gesture like this might get dear old bro off our asses…” Yes, because doing something with an ulterior motive counts as selfless… What sort of humans did you make a pact with again? 

Frustratedly, Levi smacked Greed’s hand off of him, but his shoulders slumped. “I guess…it has been a while. And I suppose someone has to make sure you both don’t buy more than you need to…” 

Your first pact-mate let out a loud whooping noise followed by a prolonged cheer. “Yay, shopping spree! That’s what I like to hear!” Beel watched his older brother with a smile on his face, glad to see Mammon excited and probably pleased to have company. Too pure for his own good, this one. 

A little more color drained from Levi’s face. “Aren’t we just going for groceries?...” 

Before Mammon could respond to that, a loud clattering noise was made in the house, several rapid thuds of running footsteps followed after that. A body rushed over to the top of the stairs, almost sliding as they screeched to a halt. They leaned over the upper banister, pushing their hair out of their face as they kept themselves from unsightly panting. “Did someone say shopping spree?” You blinked as Asmo sprung down the stairs. 

Were you really going to get dragged outside like this? With two extra Morningstars thrown into the mix? You felt faint again…

Good news. Turns out you didn’t have to tag-along with four obnoxious humans. Bad news: you weren’t tagging along with four obnoxious humans. They were gone. All of them. Even Levi, who apparently was more eager to commence with the shopping trip than he let on. As soon as the car toting you all along had parked, it seemed as if they all were swept along by different whirlwinds. Even your two pact-mates got caught up in the feeling of freedom apparently. No house arrest, no crazy digital world, it appeared as if they needed a little break. Honestly, you didn’t feel like stopping them. However, needing to guarantee them all safety while they were separated like this was… stressful to say the least. 

So, you found yourself wandering, attempting to find them to make sure they were hale and whole. You decided on checking the largest store in this strange strip of buildings. The double doors slid open for you without you touching, causing you to jump backwards, making a passerby turn their head in a perplexed manner. You sheepishly shook your head a bit as the human moved forward. How were you supposed to know humans enchanted their doors? As you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to the polite panels as they shut themselves behind you, you looked up a bit in awe at the store. It was huge. Tall ceilings that towered above your head, huge spinning blades circulating the air across the entire expanse. Aisle upon aisle of shelves. Humans definitely had advanced past simple stalls in humble marketplaces. Bigger, grander, better. More, more, more. This place screamed gluttony. Hopefully Beel was in here then. Although, even if he was, pinpointing him would be the harder part. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing in a random aisle, wandering aimlessly. Human packaging was so interesting. All trying so hard to stand out amongst rows of other goods just like it. You were expected to eat like a human now too… “We’ll bring Devildom food once a week to really keep you healthy, but until those points, make sure you’re eating plenty of human food,” Simeon had told you. And after that whole spiel you had given, telling Levi and Mammon how it was essentially worthless to…consume. Means you’d have to eat a lot more than you ever had before. Sounded like a lot of effort… You reached out and picked up a bag of chips off the shelf. It was the same brand of the kind Mammon had given you while you waited for the bus. The ones you denied. Maybe you should…attempt to try them. 

“Oh, you’re here too.” 

It took you a moment to realize that the voice was addressed to you. You raised your head as the figure approached. “There you are,” you sighed a little in relief. At least one thing needed to go your way today. Beel looked entirely unharmed and unbothered, pushing a large cart already overburdened with items, an open bag of some sort of snack settled in a little compartment in front of him. He was snacking on it occasionally, looking around for other goods he might want to add to the collection. 

“I like that brand,” Beel suddenly announced, nodding towards the bag in your hands. “You can put it in the cart if you want so you don’t have to carry it everywhere.” He turned his head to the side, grabbing another large sack of chips and gently placing it on top of everything else. Without thinking much of it, you did as he suggested. “The others leave you?” 

“Huh?” 

“My bothers,” Beel clarified. “You look kinda sad that you’ve been left behind.” 

Air seemed to catch in your throat, your mind blanking entirely for a second. Was he being intentionally so blunt? “I’m not sad. They can do whatever they want, it’s not like I know them very well.” 

This human didn’t combat you, didn’t correct you. He simply nodded. “Yeah, you still haven’t been with us very long, have you? I think this is only the second time I’ve seen you. But it seems like you’ve been with Mammon and Levi a bit, right? They seemed happy to be around you.” A soft smile curled around the human’s lips. “I haven’t seen either of them look like that in a while. I’m really glad they both found a friend.” 

Deny it! Say something! Something inside you was screaming at you to refute these claims, but…for the life of you, you couldn’t do it. This human…was so genuine with you. And the smile…seemed so much like Mammon’s too. Like theirs. Pure. It was uncanny how similar it was. “I guess,” was what you finally came up with. 

The Morningstar seemed to sense your discomfort, so, attempting to mitigate some of the awkwardness, he pushed the cart past you. “Is there anything you need to get while we’re here?” 

You waited for a second before following after him, hands shoved in the pockets of the human clothing you were wearing. “I’m not sure.” Sure, Simeon gave you some funds, enough to support your “life” here, but you had never intended to use any of it. What did humans eat? What did you want? What did you even like anymore?... Could you remember the taste of your favorite food? Did you even have favorites anymore? Those had all been burned away from you. Time had chipped away at your personality until there was little left. You glanced down at the single bag of snacks you’d put in the cart. Beel said he liked them. Tilting your head up a bit, you stared at him for a moment. “What do you like?” 

The question left him frozen for a second, and you wondered if you had broken him. Then, a sort of sparkle shimmered behind his eyes. He began to take you through nearly every aisle, picking out all his favorite snacks, foods, ingredients for meals, desserts, etc. It was enough to make your head spin, but he seemed ecstatic about it. A few things you placed in the cart, a few other things he seemed to snag for you. You both eventually stopped in the baked goods section, Beel staring at the sprinkles and bags of marshmallows fondly, recalling a memory perhaps. “We would make all sorts of things in the kitchen.” Based on his tone, you figured they didn’t make meals as much as they used to. The human seemed to cling to those memories, refusing to let them go. 

You were about to pry your nose a little deeper into the past, but another human walked between the shelves, heading up behind you both. The stranger pointed his hand at the baker's chocolate that you were blocking off. “Pardon me. If I could just grab that behind you two there.” He smiled politely, but you were very aware of his green eyes remaining trained onto you. You took a few steps back and decided to not pursue the subject. You had gotten enough groceries, and you assumed Beel had gathered more than enough to sustain seven humans for a decent while. The two of you walked away, the human leading you to where you were meant to exchange the funds for the merchandise. 

After too much fumbling and confusion, you purchased your portion. Beel coated both of his arms with bags upon bags of food, looking mostly unphased. For a human, he seemed to have impressive strength. Not saying much, you followed him back outside to the car, helping him load the vehicle with your haul. After that…you stood next to him awkwardly. What were you meant to do in this situation? Without Mammon… The car’s lights flashed as the sound of the internal lock clicked open. “You can stay here. I’ll go find my brothers.” With a little flick of his wrist, he tossed a set of keys at you. “You can turn the AC on if you want. That way the ice cream doesn’t melt.” 

You turned the keys around in your hands. From what you knew from Mammon, this was a major sign of trust. “You really trust me with this? You don’t really know me at all.” 

Beel shrugged a little. “Mammon and Levi seem to trust you. That’s good enough for me. I’ll be back.” Before he turned to leave, he came back, opening the passenger side door for you with a small smile on his face. He waited for you to sit inside before shutting the door for you, walking off towards the other stores. You sat back in the seat lazily, sliding down a little and sighing. Guess out of all the humans you could’ve met, he wasn’t the worst. Too trusting though. That would be an issue. Your temple rested against the glass window of the car. What a strange day. 

A flash of light in the corner of your eye caught your attention. Of course, you’d learned by now that the human world was filled with shiny things, so you didn’t expect much. Perhaps it was the eyes-- headlights of one of the various cars in the parking lot. As you turned your gaze, another glare nearly blinded your vision. Blinking away the spots, you managed to see a long cylinder slip back behind the deeply tinted windows of a car parked partially behind the strip of buildings. The window rolled up before the car moved away. A chilling sensation slinked up your spine. What was… 

A hand smacked against the window, causing you to jump. Mammon looked all too pleased with himself for catching you off your game. He held up a few bags in his hands, proud of what he had done. “Hey!” He tugged at the doorhandle and opened the door, a little bit of color flooding his cheeks while you still stared in the direction the car drove off. “So, I figured since you saved Levi and I and all and haven’t been feeling the greatest and all, I might’ve– well, let’s just say I accidentally bought two of the same thing and instead of bothering with a refund, I decided to–” His words caught in his throat, choking on air as you grabbed the front of his shirt and fully pulled him into the car. The passenger side of the car was not well made to fit two people, both of you spilling out of the front seat. Cursing a bit, Mammon flopped into the back. “What?! What is wrong with you?” 

“Tell me, what human thing is cylindrical and flashes? It’s about this big.” You gestured the size with the curve of your hand. “What is it? What’s it meant for? Is it dangerous?” 

“Huh?” Mammon rubbed the back of his head as he caught his bearings. “Like a camera or somethin’? It takes pictures and stuff. Is that it?” 

“Takes pictures?...” So… someone was taking pictures of you? Was that it? Why… who?... 

Mammon noticed the look on your face and cleared his throat a bit. “Listen, not to toot my own horn or nothin’ but I am a model. Paparazzi follows me around sometimes I guess. It might not be anything too dangerous.” His voice sounded hopeful. “Unless you think otherwise…” 

“I don’t know… It was weird… I think they left. Maybe it was nothing.” You rubbed your forehead, letting the stress pass for now. You hadn’t sensed any magic anyway. You tried to look at him in your peripherals. “Don’t leave me alone like that again, got it? It’s not safe for you.” But maybe Simeon and Solomon were right. Nowhere was safe for you either. 

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[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

"Down By The River" - Neil Young & The International Harvesters, Pier 84, New York City, September 10, 1985

As I'm sure you've heard, Neil Young will release the third volume of his Archives project in just over a month. Weighing in at 17 discs (plus five blu-rays), it's a ridiculously large collection, with dozens of unreleased tracks. I've heard the whole dang thing via a promo stream and Vol. III will make Neil fanatics very very happy. And yet! It wouldn't be a Neil Young situation if there weren't some very questionable choices made ... As always, I've got quibbles! Quibbles, I say!

For one thing, the International Harvesters era ... Most of what shows up on Vol. III has already been released on A Treasure, well over a decade ago. The additions are great — a gorgeous live version of "Interstate" with a fiery electric solo from Neil and a sweet rendition of "Misfits." But Neil should've added this legendary "Down By The River" to the mix (in fact, he seemed to be considering it). It's a truly insane performance, with Old Black moving unexpectedly into almost Sonic Youth-y zones during the long instrumental sections. Neil duels magnificently with Nashville session pianist Hargus "Pig" Robbins (who you know from classic recordings with Dylan, Lightfoot, Parton and countless others), taking things to unreal heights. Over the rainbow, indeed.

And hey, one good "Down By The River" from the 1980s deserves another, right? Here's Neil and the International Harvesters doing it about a year before Pier 84 down in New Orleans — notable not only for its awesomeness, but also for its rare spoken intro, wherein Neil evocatively sets the scene:

I'd like to sing you a song about a guy who had a lot of trouble controlling himself. He let the dark side come through a little too bright. One afternoon he took a little stroll down through a field and through a forest, till he could hear the water runnin' along there. And he met his woman down there. And he told her she'd been cheatin' on him one time too many. And he reached down in his pocket and he pulled a little revolver out. Said "Honey, I hate to do this but you pushed me too far."

By the time he got back to town he knew he had to answer to somebody pretty quick. He went back to his house, he sat down on the front porch. About two hours later the sheriff's car pulled up out front. It started sinking in on him just what he'd done. The sheriff walked up the sidewalk. He said "Come with me son, I want to ask you a few questions." As he heard the jail door shut behind him he sat down on a little wooden bench — and he looked out of the door through those bars at this kind of wimpy looking sheriff out there. He started getting mad again and he realized what he'd done. There wasn't nothing he could do about it now though. He just sat down and put his head down and started thinking to himself — I'm all by myself here, there's nobody on my side...

Because I care deeply about you, there's another little bonus in the above download, too — a very early "Razor Love," also recorded live with the International Harvesters in 1984. Just wait 'til you hear the synth-pop version included on Vol. III!

[memetaped]

the blue bird taken from the 1940 film.

give me the stick.

please. won’t you trade?

it’s against the law.

poor mite. sick in bed all winter.

let me give you a piggyback.

then sleep. i’ll be back to wake you.

you’ve been dreaming.

that’s not true, dear. you have lots of things.

if you stay, i’ll bake you the biggest apple tart you’ve ever tasted.

you’re not big enough to get on by yourself.

another hug, a big one this time.

oh, yes, yes, but aren’t you sick enough, dear, without catching your death of cold?

one more word from you, and you’ll go straight to bed.

hop into your clothes and be off.

oh, don’t cry before you’re hurt.

you’re safe now. that’s all that matters.

that’s what you always say, that you’re sorry, but the next day you do the same thing right over again.

this place is bad enough in the daytime.

i’ve met dozens of ghosts.

just try it, if you want to get your eyes scratched out.

nothing but trouble. getting me up in the middle of the night.

you’d be fast asleep.

if you don’t mend your ways, you’ll never be happy.

anything you like. you name it.

don’t stand there staring. come along.

here, i’ll help you up. 

you must look for it yourself, in the past, in the future, everywhere.

i have pins and needles all down my legs.

don’t you like to talk things over with somebody before you go to bed?

get to the table. your breakfast’s all ready.

we’d better go someplace till this blows over.

and someday, i’m going to take you by the neck and shake your head right off.

keep climbing up and up as far as you can go.

you used to sing that to me in my cradle.

i’m beginning to feel quite strong.

don’t get stew like this in the army.

what did you do to your foot?

i’ve been shouting my lungs out for you.

stop that blubbering. save your weeping for the river.

you can have anything you like. you can do anything you like.

i’m going to earth very soon now.

oh, what’s come over the child?

don’t stand there gaping at me. answer me.

i’ll be in every moonbeam, in every star that shines, in every dawn that rises, and every lamp that’s lit, in every good and bright thought of your soul.

from your tone, one would think the world was coming to an end.

don’t you know that the blue bird means happiness?

you’ve done your best.

but now you can spend your christmas at home.

you can’t be unhappy inside yourself without making others unhappy too.

i've seen enough wonderful things.

now go on. off to bed you go.

don’t you let me catch you at it again.

oh, it’s been wonderful seeing you.

you have a roof over your head, haven’t you, and warm clothes?